Hey everyone! Random Appalachian here. I just wanted to check back in with you all and provide some updates, as well as some exciting, if personal, news. I have to type this quick, as my work break ends soon, so pardon any typos, grammatical errors, or weirdly structured sentences.
For those of you who don’t know, I’m a park ranger in real life, and work at a wildlife reserve in Ohio. We’ve been having some issues with vandalism in our northern woods for a few months, and despite our best attempts, haven’t been able to find the culprit. It’s been immensely frustrating, especially when more paint has shown up on more trails, ranging from slashes, lines, and crosses, to dots and even letters. Normally we wouldn’t get too bent out of shape over a few trees being painted, but it’s well over 60 at this point, and widespread throughout the forest. None of the official people who help us maintain the trails in that area say they are responsible, and yet many of the markings seem to be blazes for trails. However the markings are at times absurdly close together, or in abstract places that make no logical sense. One “trail” is no more than perhaps 30 yards long and runs right along a massive clearing in a semi-circle, within plain sight of the clearing, and goes to nowhere; it goes into the woods, and pops back out into the clearing only 30-ish yards away. Most of our established trails that have been painted already have well-made trail markings of our own, and the trails are well-blazed. There seems to be no rhyme or reason to why these things are there at all. I don’t think it’s anything sinister, though the painter has left his/her paint cans in the woods before, so at the very least, they’re a litterbug. There is the concern about potential poaching, which can be a problem in our area. Sure, deer and turkey are commonplace in my rural community, but they are only that way because of conservation and game laws that keep populations intact. Local hunters play a big part in conservation, and if someone starts taking more than their fair share through poaching, that means less for everyone else, and upsets the balance of things. The sad thing is, unlike legal hunters who often hunt for meat for their families, (food is expensive nowadays) poachers usually do it for trophies, antlers, or ‘fans’ from the turkey tail-feathers. But our painter has yet to take any game to our knowledge. We’ve found no gut piles, blood, or discarded gear anywhere. So, if he’s not poaching . . . what on earth does he want?
Then a few weeks ago, we did find a camera inside our central perimeter.
To put this into perspective, we have roughly 10,000 acres to our little reserve. Only 1/3 is fenced in, containing our exotic animals for our tours, and our buildings that we use to operate. Offices, mechanical garages, barns, and storage sheds, that sort of thing. Usually if we have trespassing issues, it's in the northern woods, which is open to the public for walking/biking trails. Sometimes in the southern prairie reserve we get some wanderers, but it's pretty open, so people tend to shy away from it. But our interior, the central area, most of which is fenced in, is sacred ground for us. We have a children’s camp in there for kids to learn about nature, we have our animal barns, and even some staff housing. For people to walk around in there would be like a stranger walking through your bedroom at night, while you’re in the shower.
Not cool. Not cool at all.
One of our ecology survey teams found the camera in a lesser-used section a mile or so north of the children’s camp. Naturally, they assumed it was one of ours, until one of the staff innocently asked another ranger why we’d put a camera by that lake. When the ranger told her that we didn’t have any cameras there, it began to sink in.
We either have two trespassers, or the painter has decided to move his game further into our land.
I’m hoping it’s the former, that I’m overthinking things, but after all, the mystery painter had to have seen a few of the trail cameras we put up in the north to catch him. Could he be doing this as a form of tit-for-tat? I don’t know, but it’s got us rangers frustrated, and our ecology team is spooked. It was fun and games in the unpopulated north, but now he’s getting close to our people, our guests, and our animals. This is serious now. We removed the camera, but there’s not really much we can do without more patrols, more cameras, and more rangers. With our budget already restricted, the last part just isn’t possible.
My foray into trail cameras yielded no results as to a culprit. In fact, the day I came in early to pull them out of the field, it seemed nothing went right. Only two came off the tree, as I forgot the keys for the locks for the other two. I couldn’t find the last one at first, and darkness fell before I could locate it, so that I was wandering around in the northern district in the blackness searching for it. Inadvertently this helped me find the camera in the end; I saw the red light flash as it took my picture and was able to retrieve the SD card. It was in my long return trek to the patrol truck that I discovered the marks on a remote trail I hadn’t walked yet. A capital O and a capital N were scrawled in various places, with dots over the letters. I took German in university, so I know they aren’t grammatical marks from that language, known as umlauts (pronounced as “oomlout” for my fellow English speakers; for all my German speakers, if I spelled that wrong, I apologize). I’d left my phone in the truck (stupid rookie move for a seasoned ranger, I know) so I couldn’t take any photos, and didn’t want to follow the trail too far in the pitch dark. I had a flashlight with spare batteries, as well as my gun (I’m not a complete moron after all) but I didn’t have time to do much exploring, since I had other duties in the park that were waiting on me. I had some VIP’s that were coming in late, and had to be escorted, which meant I had to clamber back to my truck, swatting at mosquitos the whole way. Nothing on the cameras showed any definitive proof, though we might have a lead on a guy with a bow case on his back. Could be nothing though; it’s not illegal to wear camo or carry things, and it could very well have been a camera case, a backpack, or an empty bow case.
In any event, we rangers are working on a strategy for changing up our patrol routes and putting more cameras in the field, as well as checking in on the children’s camp frequently throughout the night. So far, this mystery person hasn’t actually hurt anything that we know of, but even if this is just local kids having a prank, it’s not funny anymore.
Anyway, on to the other news. For the aforementioned reasons, as well as others, I’ve been super swamped this past month, and so writing on the third book in the Barron County trilogy has been slow. I wanted to release it at the beginning of June, but at this rate, I’m going to have to push that back to late June, possibly early July. I hate to think I’ve disappointed you all, but it’s just not ready yet. That, and I’ve been busy with something else . . . something big.
I’m getting married next week.
It’s been a long time coming, but my fiancé and I are super excited. We’ve known each other since kindergarten and have been best friends since forever. We’ve both been running like chickens with our heads cut off to get everything ready, and naturally, we’re both exhausted/somewhat nervous. Our honeymoon will require some flying, and since my fiancé has never been on a plane before, that’s a point of nervousness for her. I’m sure she’ll be fine once we’re in the air, but until then, she’s a bundle of nerves.
All that is to say, I am working on the story, it’s just taking a bit. I cannot wait to get back into the swing of things for all of you and thank you again for your supreme patience in this. You guys and gals are great, and entertaining you all is a massive privilege. Stay tuned for the third installment of the Barron County trilogy, and the epic conclusion of Hannah Brun’s journey into the unknown! Until next time.

I was recently diagnosed with a hip labral tear, but my pain in my hip is very mild. I actually initially thought it was a femoral stress fracture, but that has since cleared up as well. My sports doctor prescribed me physical therapy, but my insurance (LifeWise AC, Washington) requires pre-authorization for physical therapy visits. I had my physical therapist submit the forms and medical records for this. Unfortunately, my insurance denied me visits because they deemed physical therapy as not medically necessary. At this point, I would like to know if it is worth it to appeal the decision and bring in a letter of medical necessity from my sports doctor? Or if this is just a waste of time? Or if there are any other suggestions for winning an appeal? I only ever get soreness in my hip occassionally, but I am an active athlete so I don’t want to wait around for my hip to get worse. Thank you!

Besides the questions in the title I tired to elaborate a little and also each question(s) has two, a. and b. sections. Section a. is meant for sort of a broad understanding. Section b. is my personal, specific case example (active claim, CA ~10 months).
I'm sure who you'll see will depend on state law, your injury, among other things. Regardless of who you see, more importantly: How do we (the injured worker) know if who we've been assigned to is doing their job correctly or just having an off day, since we know it's not required to have good bedside manner, what are they required by definition AND law? That said:

1a. Despite case by case variations; who are personnel that everyone will see no matter what? What should you expect from them, and is there more they can do...but only if you know how to ask? I'm imagining a knowledgeable answer would be a long list of all the possible outcomes within the maximum allowed in WC, but probably more helpful is to address the most common. A small list may only include a companies HR, Claims adjustor, and an Occupational Health doctor for example. Then continuing the list after those essential people is there typically a usual process where if once your case goes for a certain amount of time or ______ happens, you could expect to meet these ______ job title? I'm hoping to help other people at least have an idea of what to expect out of said people.

1b. TLDR: Here's one of the biggest examples of not knowing who to talk to and whether that information is correct. I have not been given crucial test results from 3 months ago. Original test (Neuropathy) doc said to get my results from my doctor, who sends me to therapist, who sends me back to doctor, my adjustor says doctor, doctor sends me to "Specialist", turns out not specialist, who sends me back to my doctor...ummmm....WTF do I do at my next doctors visits in a few days??

1b (cont.) It has come to my attention that I'm completely unaware of exactly what a large majority of the people I've been assigned to see do. In fact, in what capacity do I "have to see them"? Can I request a swap, or how do I make a complaint? I have been MORE than patient, and I've given the benefit of the doubt for so long that I can no longer accept being passed along. I'm already back where I started, for the 3rd time. Uh...so, besides just wanting information for myself, I'd think the test results should help me heal. I've been denied more treatments (Appeal's denied too) where I'd think that those test results could play a crucial role. Where once I thought there has there been a miscommunication, now feels like I'm in an echo chamber, or worse. This is quite alarming as it also shines light into the fact that I am also unaware of how "my doctor" can best help me, if at all. "My doctor", the one I'm required to see at Occupational Health, (I'm told I not allowed to see my family doctor) doesn't seem to do anything other than fill out the "Return to work form". Is that correct? How would I know?? They seem to just write whatever I tell them. Similarly the same goes for what treatments I've gotten. Best I can tell, there is no indication they have reviewed any of the information from other doctors and therapists. It's now going on 3 months where I haven't been given test results.

Unfortunately it's not just my doctor who I'm not getting information from. "Generic Adjustor" Enters the chat. or maybe not, because to top off the confusion, I can't get ahold of my adjustor who so far been the one steering me into the .... direction. Unfortunately I believe I'm waking up too late. I've called multiple times a day for a week straight while leaving messages and follow up emails noting that I've called. They do respond to email, which usually consists of one line stating something like "call anytime, I'll be in the office all week".. Funny thing is I'm not sure what exactly they are even supposed to do or bare minimum required to do. Even when I get ahold of them, I'm questioning if I can even trust them. I'm not saying "it's conspiracy". However due to the most recent info I've gotten, I do think the run around could be very deliberate play. How do I know if they're simply bad at their job or leaving me in the dark. It sure feels like it's purposeful. This all came to a head when after reviewing our last few emails, I see a pattern where they only respond to some of the questions, and even have given verifiably incorrect, contradictory information. How do I check these facts? Should I talk to a supervisor? Is there a system to check and balance these things? Who do I talk to? It all came to a head when I opened mail to find: Request of QME with the reason being "Objection to Primary Treating Physician's determination regarding temporary disability, permanent disability, or the need for future medical care." Aggravating but I'm sure they followed the (rules I was unaware of) book. It's questions like this that have me really, really upset: What is even meant by "Objection to Primary Treating Physician's determination"? 1. Quick sidebar - is that decision made by the "my doctor" that I described earlier - or the "Provider"? > Meaning, those two terms have been used interchangeably, and I fear that, and why I used quotes for "my doctor" earlier, I'm wondering if this other name (who happens to be another doctor at the Occupational Health office) a person I have never met let alone seen is the one calling the shots. Either way I'm pretty worried. 2. Here is another example which shows only a part of the circle of "who do I talk to". Here is a quote from my adjustor 10 days after the letter had been officiated, but before I got it states "you have not seen a specialist, attended a QME, or have a clear treatment plan defined by your primary treating physician.". Am I wrong to have read that to believe I'd still be seeing a specialist? Doesn't it read that the information the specialist decides would be what determines the next step? Isn't it safe to say that by month 10 I'd have a treatment plan --of course unless your not privy to your own test results?
Ending note: There is so many more examples I could give which to me paint a picture of neglect. From what I can tell, I either already signed my rights away or it's just not worth the fight. I don't even want to fight, or believed there would be a reason for a disagreement due to my injury but since that bubble of disillusionment has popped, how can I reproach getting the best medical treatment. I was lead to believe that after seeing a specialist I would have the option to get a second opinion before the QME. I haven't even seen the first specialist (I was sent to an office with a specialist in it, but the person I saw was just a family practitioner).and since both my doctor and my adjutor are not helping ---Who the fuck do I talk to?

Ministers apologise and return £7,000 in benefits to woman, 93, with dementia
Government ministers have formally apologised and repaid £7,000 to a 93-year-old woman whom they held responsible for running up benefits overpayment debts even though they were told she had dementia and was unable to manage her affairs.
The case, which the minister for disability, Mims Davies, admitted was “disturbing”, was brought to light by the Guardian as part of its investigation into carer's allowance overpayments.
The agreement to write off the debt of the 93-year-old, whom the Guardian has chosen not to name, comes as ministers have promised to try new ways of sharing information with carers to try to prevent them building up months and years of overpayments.
Read the full article on theguardian.com
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DWP confirmed that it is developing an ‘enhanced notification strategy’ to alert carer’s allowance claimants to possible overpayments
Notifications designed to encourage claimants to report changes in income and so reduce the risk of being overpaid.
As part of its policy paper, Fighting Fraud in the Welfare System: Going Further, that was published earlier this week, the Department says (at paragraph 78) -

'In carer’s allowance we are progressing an enhanced notification strategy as part of our existing commitment to improve customer engagement, building on our existing communications with customers. As part of this notification strategy we are considering all forms of targeted contact to find the most effective and efficient solution, such as exploring the use of targeted text messages or emails to alert claimants and encourage them to contact the Department when the DWP is made aware of a potential overpayment.'

The Department added -

'The new strategy will help claimants understand when they may have received an earnings-related overpayment or are at risk of doing so, and will encourage claimants to contact the DWP to meet their obligation to inform the Department of changes in their income and other relevant circumstances. This will reduce the risk of those customers being overpaid.'

Note: having expressed concern that the DWP had 'done nothing' to stop carers building up huge overpayments of benefit despite knowing what people are earning, Work and Pensions Committee Chair Stephen Timms called on the National Audit Office to investigate problems with the carer's allowance system and, in particular, its failure to prevent or rectify overpayments.
Stephen Timms has also written to Secretary for State for Work and Pensions Mel Stride highlighting concerns about the DWP's lack of progress with overpayments since the previous committee's report in 2019. Mr Timms' letter repeats the committee's recommendation that the DWP increase the rate of carer's allowance and goes on to call for the DWP to review both the amount and the cliff-edge nature of the earnings limit and for the removal of the 21-hour study rule.
For more information, see Policy paper: Fighting Fraud in the Welfare System: Going Further from gov.uk
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Carers UK has welcomed the DWP's plans, noting this is the 'minimum' they've been calling for to tackle carers' overpayments. However, Director of Policy and Public Affairs Emily Holzhausen also highlights that implementing the strategy is 'urgent', asks that the whole issue be moved out of being branded benefits fraud, and that carer's allowance be reviewed as it should be 'modernised to reflect the realities of caring'.
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DWP-commissioned research highlights how the carer’s allowance earnings threshold influences decisions about how many hours carers work
Report also makes clear that the Department was made aware three years ago that there was room to improve claimant understanding and possibly reduce mistakes leading to overpayments by improving its communications.
The research, Experiences of claiming and receiving carer’s allowance, explores how and why people claim carer's allowance; their caring roles; experiences of combining paid work and care; and how well claimants understand the rules associated with the benefit. While carried out in 2020/2021, the research has been published today against a backdrop of calls for the wholescale reform of carer's allowance as a result of evidence that claimants who have earned above the carer's allowance earnings limit have been left with large overpayments and, in some cases, prosecuted for fraud.
While the research found that many claimants in employment felt there was a practical limit to the hours they could work, with many saying it was only feasible to be working part-time due to their caring responsibilities, it also found that -

• the earnings threshold appeared to influence decisions about how many hours some people worked. Even though claimants often denied that the threshold influenced their choices, they acknowledged being mindful to stay below the threshold. One claimant felt he had to refuse shifts at work that would take him over the threshold;
• in another example, the earnings limit led a claimant to reduce her hours as her wages increased, and eventually she was working so few hours that her employer felt it was not worth employing her due to her limited availability; and
• some claimants in paid work felt they might work more hours if not for the earnings threshold, and even suggested tapering the carer’s allowance earnings rule to encourage claimants to work more.

Published on the same day that the Work and Pensions Select Committee said that there has been insufficient progress in addressing the problems with carer's allowance that it highlighted five years ago, the research makes clear that the Department has been aware of the issues for some time. For example, it highlights confusion relating to the complexity of the earnings calculation, including how deductions such as childcare expenses and pension contributions are taken account of, and whether wages can be averaged if you earn more in a particular week.
In addition, with the Chair of the Select Committee Stephen Timms having said recently that the DWP has done nothing to stop carers building up huge overpayments despite knowing what people are earning, and the Committee having called on the National Audit Office to investigate the problems with the system, the research found that -

• poor communication on the part of the DWP meant that not all of those that had been overpaid benefit were clear on the reason for the overpayment;
• some said that while they were initially notified or questioned about an overpayment there was then no follow-up from the Department; and
• when the overpayment was initially raised, several claimants felt that they were spoken to or treated by DWP as though they had intentionally committed fraud when the overpayment had been a misunderstanding.

As a result, the research says -

'... there is room to improve claimant understanding and possibly reduce mistakes leading to overpayments by improving communications around eligibility criteria. Since claimants did not engage with the detail of their benefit regularly, possibly only considering it once a year when they received their annual letter, more frequent communications may improve clarity of knowledge around carer’s allowance.'

Other key findings include that -

• most claimants cared for close relatives, with two in five caring for a child (39 per cent), a quarter caring for a spouse or partner (25 per cent), and one in five (22 per cent) caring for a parent;
• caring was a long-term and high-intensity commitment, with half of claimants (52 per cent) spending 65 or more hours caring per week and more than half (54 per cent) caring for between 5 and 20 years;
• only 16 per cent of carer's allowance claimants were currently in paid work, tending to work part- time in lower paid jobs that they were able to fit around their caring responsibilities, with most (81 per cent) working 20 hours or less a week;
• of those not currently in paid work, seven in ten (69 per cent) said this was due to their responsibilities as a carer, with other barriers including a lack of flexible working options, claimants’ own health and confidence issues; and
• there was a lag between starting caring and claiming carer's allowance, with seven in ten claimants (70 per cent) caring for 5+ years, but only 3 in 10 (34 per cent) having claimed carer's allowance for that length of time.

For more information, see Experiences of claiming and receiving carer’s allowance from gov.uk
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Almost 135,000 people currently have an outstanding carer's allowance debt, with more than £250 million owed in total, according to figures supplied by DWP Minister Paul Maynard
DWP Minister also confirms that women represent 68 per cent of those with an outstanding debt.
Responding to a written question in Parliament from Work and Pensions Committee Chair Stephen Timms, Mr Maynard said -

'As of 14 May 2024, the volume of people who have an outstanding carers allowance debt is 134,800 with a total value of £251 million. This figure represents the total stock and as such the total monetary amount may have been accrued over multiple years. Those who have an outstanding carers allowance debt may no longer be in receipt of the benefit.'

Mr Maynard added that -

'Women make up the majority of carer’s allowance claims, and this is reflected in the proportion of those with an outstanding carer’s allowance debt. As of 14 May 2024, there were 42,800 (32 per cent) males, 91,900 (68 per cent) females and 100 (less than 1 per cent) not identified, with an outstanding carer's allowance debt.'

The Minister also confirmed that, as of November 2023, there were more than 991,000 people in receipt of carer's allowance, consisting of around 271,000 (27 per cent) males and 720,000 (73 per cent) females.
Mr Maynard's written answer is available from parliament.uk
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Total value of benefit overpayments in 2023/2024 increased to almost £10 billion, representing 3.7 per cent of benefit expenditure for the year
New DWP figures also show that official error underpayments remained at around £1 billion, and that people could have claimed more than £3 billion more 'if they had provided accurate information about their circumstances'.
In Fraud and error in the benefit system: financial year 2023 to 2024 estimates, the DWP calculates how much money it overpaid or underpaid as a percentage of total benefit expenditure for the year (£266.2bn) - for benefits including universal credit, housing benefit, personal independence payment, employment and support allowance and pension credit - and how many claims were paid an incorrect amount.
Note: the statistics no longer include estimates of claimant error underpayments as these are now published separately, as confirmed in recent DWP guidance.
In relation to incorrect payment rates across all benefits for the financial year ending (FYE) 2024, the figures show that the total rate of benefit expenditure overpaid was 3.7 per cent (£9.7bn), compared with 3.6 per cent (£8.3bn) in 2022/2023. In addition, the total rate of benefit expenditure underpaid was 0.4 per cent (£1.1bn), compared with 0.5 per cent (£1.2bn) in FYE 2023.
Looking in more detail at the figures for individual benefits, the statistics include data showing that -

• for universal credit, expenditure increased to £51.9bn in 2024 with an overpayment rate of 12.4 per cent (£6.5bn) and underpayment rate of 0.3 per cent (£180m), compared to expenditure of £43.4 bn, overpayments at 12.7 per cent (£5.5bn) and underpayments at 0.6 per cent (£240m) in FYE 2023;
• for personal independence payment (PIP), the overpayment rate was at the lowest recorded level of 0.4 per cent (£90m), compared with 1.1 per cent (£200m) in FYE 2023. However, the underpayment rate went up to 0.4 per cent (£80m), from 0.3 per cent (£60m) the previous year;
• for pension credit, the overpayment rate was 9.7 per cent (£520m) in FYE 2024, compared with 6.8 per cent (£330m) in the previous year, with underpayments remaining unchanged at 0.3 per cent (£50m) for both years; and
• for housing benefit, almost £1bn (£980m) was overpaid in FYE 2024 (6.3 per cent of expenditure), compared with £860m (5.7 per cent) in 2023. Underpayments remained stable at 0.4 per cent of spending (£50m in FYE 2024 and £60m in FYE 2023).

In addition to the fraud and error statistics, the DWP has also issued Unfulfilled eligibility in the benefit system: Financial Year Ending (FYE) 2024, in line with its decision to remove claimant underpayments from its main fraud and error estimates. The new statistics set out the percentage of benefit expenditure that could have been paid to people with unfulfilled eligibility 'if they had provided the correct information', and show key findings that include -

• the unfulfilled eligibility rate for 2024 is 1.2 per cent of expenditure (£3.1bn), compared with 1.0 per cent (£2.3bn) in the previous year; and
• universal credit, PIP and disability living allowance (DLA) account for around three-quarters of the total value of unfulfilled eligibility (at £730m, £870m and £750m respectively in FYE 2024).

The DWP highlighted that -

'PIP has the second highest unfulfilled eligibility rate [4 per cent] of all benefits and fairly high expenditure [£21.6bn], so due to this combination, PIP accounts for around one-quarter of total unfulfilled eligibility in FYE 2024. DLA has the highest unfulfilled eligibility rate [11.1 per cent] but relatively low expenditure [£6.8m], so even though its rate is higher than PIP, it accounts for a similar amount of total unfulfilled eligibility in FYE 2024. Universal credit has a lower unfulfilled eligibility rate than DLA and PIP [1.4 per cent] but its high expenditure means that it also accounts for a similar amount of total unfulfilled eligibility in FYE 2024.'

For more information, see Fraud and error in the benefit system: financial year 2023 to 2024 estimates and Unfulfilled eligibility in the benefit system: financial year 2023 to 2024 estimates from gov.uk
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Work and Pensions Secretary Mel Stride has set out the DWP's plans to scale up its 'fight against fraudsters'
New measures include using machine learning to detect and prevent fraudulent claims, as well as introducing a new Bill to enable benefit fraud to be treated like tax fraud.
Issuing a written statement in the House of Commons on 13th May, Mr Stride said -

'In the continued fight against fraud, today the Government will publish a new paper setting out the progress we have made in tackling fraud and error in the welfare system - Fighting Fraud in the Welfare System: Going Further. The paper sets out the progress we have made in delivering the commitments in the Government's 2022 command paper Fighting Fraud in the Welfare System and it demonstrates where we are going further to protect taxpayers’ money from fraudsters.'

Highlighting that the Data Protection and Digital Information Bill, currently before Parliament, will enable the Department to work with third parties such as banks to identify claims that signal potential fraud and error, Mr Stride says that the new measures being introduced include -

• bringing forward a new Fraud Bill in the next parliament to treat benefit fraud like tax fraud, by providing for the ability to make arrests and conduct searches and seizures by warrant;
• exploring a new civil penalty to punish fraudsters, potentially broadening the scope of cases that can receive a penalty when the courts are not prosecuting, and increasing the value of the civil penalty;
• tripling the size of the Targeted Case Review programme to reach almost 6,000 staff with the aim of saving £6.6 billion by 2027/2028; and
• making changes to universal credit including new partly automated checks on self-employed income, new online prompts for claimants to re-declare their circumstances (such as if they have moved in with a partner), and increasing checks on capital when people claim the benefit to ensure they are eligible.

Note: the Department confirms that final decisions on accepting or stopping a claim will, however, continue to be made by a member of DWP staff.
For more information, see DWP updates Fraud Plan from gov.uk
In response to the above article the Disability News Service reported that the government's fraud policy paper ignores coroner’s concerns over review of disabled woman’s universal credit claim. Read the DNS article on disabilitynewsservice.com
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Less than half of legacy benefit claimants who were sent a migration notice between July 2022 and March 2024 have made a claim for universal credit, according to new figures from the DWP
However, new DWP statistics also show that 60 per cent of households that claimed universal credit have been awarded transitional protection.
In Completing the move to Universal Credit: statistics related to the move of households claiming Tax Credits and DWP benefits to Universal Credit: data to end of March 2024, the DWP sets out figures for the period since July 2022, noting that -

'In the period covered by this bulletin, the vast majority of migration notices have been sent to tax credit households whose likelihood of claiming universal credit and receiving transitional protection may be different from DWP legacy benefit claimants, the majority of whom had not yet been sent a migration notice in the period covered in this bulletin.'

The statistics include that -

• a total of 824,050 individuals (in 540,070 households) were sent migration notices up to March 2024 - up by around 300,000 and 200,000 respectively compared to the totals for December 2023;
• a total of 400,940 individuals (49 per cent of those sent migration notices), living in 275,980 households, have made a claim for universal credit;
• of households that have claimed universal credit, 166,860 (60 per cent) have been awarded transitional protection;
• a total of 238,990 individuals who were sent migration notices are still going through the managed migration process; and
• a total of 184,120 individuals who were sent migration notices have had their legacy benefit claims closed.

Move to Universal Credit statistics, July 2022 to March 2024 is available from gov.uk
Note: the DWP has also published Universal Credit statistics, 29 April 2013 to 11 April 2024­ which show that there were 6.7 million people on universal credit in April 2024 (300,000 more than the 6.4 million in January 2024) and that half of households on universal credit that received a payment in February 2024 included children.
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Department for Communities also confirms that claimants in receipt of other legacy benefits will be issued with migration notices 'in the coming months'
The Department for Communities (DfC) has confirmed that the 'Move to UC' rollout in Northern Ireland has expanded this week to include people receiving tax credits along with housing benefit.
Announcing the expansion of the process, Deputy Secretary of Work and Health at the DfC Paddy Rooney said -

'We continue to take a measured and carefully managed approach to migrating legacy benefit recipients to universal credit. We have already successfully completed issuing migration notices to tax credit only recipients and we will continue to take every step possible to ensure that everyone receives the help and support they need during this next phase of Move to UC.'

The Department also confirmed that once it has issued migration notices to all those receiving tax credits with housing benefit, the following groups will be contacted in this order -

• people claiming income support;
• people claiming housing benefit only, and those claiming child tax credit with income-related employment and support allowance (ESA); and
• people claiming income-based jobseeker's allowance.

In relation to the bringing forward of managed migration for ESA and ESA/housing benefit claimants in Great Britain, announced by the Prime Minister on 19 April 2024, the DfC says that it is working to assess the impact of this on the region. It also confirms that it will align with the DWP's aim to complete the migration of legacy benefit claimants to universal credit by March 2025.
For more information, see Tax credit with housing benefit recipients next to 'Move to UC' and Rollout of Universal Credit for Tax Credit and Legacy Benefit customers - screening from ni.gov.uk
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57,000 adverse universal credit sanction decisions were made in January 2024, according to new DWP statistics
DWP statistics also highlight that around 95 per cent of decisions are as a result of failure to attend or participate in a mandatory interview.
In Benefit sanctions statistics to February 2024, the DWP reports on both the rate and duration of sanctions for universal credit claimants who are in conditionality regimes where they be applied.
Key findings include that -

• in February 2024, 30.1 per cent of claimants were in conditionality regimes that were subject to sanctions and, of these, 6.52 per cent were sanctioned - down 0.64 percentage points from the previous quarter;
• over the last year, 94.9 per cent of adverse sanction decisions were for failure to attend or participate in a mandatory interview; and
• in February 2024, there were 20,000 completed sanctions in the 4 weeks to 13 weeks sanction duration band, 4,800 in the over 13 weeks to 26 weeks duration band, and 4,000 of over 26 weeks duration.

In addition, while the total number of claimants in conditionality regimes where sanctions can be applied has remained largely stable since May 2022 (currently at 1.95 million), the total number of adverse sanction decisions stood at 57,000 in January 2024, the highest since March 2022.
The DWP notes that -

'Comparisons with universal credit prior to February 2024 ... should not be made. This is because the data sources, methodology and rules of the benefits differ from those used for universal credit currently.'

However, it adds that, following the reinstated duration measures and rate methodology improvements, the data is now determined stable and fit for purpose and, as of May 2024, it is published under the 'Official Statistics' label as opposed to 'in development'.
For more information, see Benefit sanctions statistics to February 2024 from gov.uk
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DWP has admitted missing multiple opportunities to record the 'vulnerability' of a disabled woman whose death was later linked by a coroner to failings at the heart of its UC system
The Disability News Service reported on the case of Nazerine (known as Naz) Anderson, from Melton Mowbray, who died of an overdose in June last year, after receiving a UC review notice.
According to a prevention of future deaths (PFD) report sent to the department by coroner Fiona Butler, the DWP missed six opportunities to record Anderson’s “vulnerability” on its IT system while it was reviewing her universal credit claim, and had failed to act on the mental distress she showed in phone calls about her claim. It also repeatedly failed to act on requests to direct its telephone calls and letters to her daughter.
The DWP admits multiple universal credit failures before disabled woman’s death article is available on disabilitynewsservice.com
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Number of emergency food parcels distributed across the UK by the Trussell Trust has increased by 90 per cent over the past five years
Food charity reports that it distributed more than three million parcels last year, with more than a million of them going to children.
In Emergency food parcel distribution in the UK: April 2023 - March 2024, the Trust says that it distributed 3,121,404 food parcels, the most parcels that it has ever distributed in a financial year, representing a four per cent increase on last year's record-breaking numbers for 2022/2023 and a 94 per cent increase since 2018/2019.
The charity also highlights that the number of parcels provided to children has continued to rise, exceeding 1.1 million in 2023/2024, and that food bank support is provided disproportionately to children, compared to the proportion of children in the UK population. In addition, it notes that pension age households are increasingly likely to need to use a food bank, with food bank support for these households having more than quadrupled between 2018/2019 and 2023/2024 (an increase of 345 per cent), compared to an 81 per cent rise amongst households without someone of pension age.
Also sharing statistics on the reason for referral for an emergency food parcel - which include health, benefit issues, work hour changes, insecure housing, changes in personal circumstances, immigration status and domestic abuse, as well as income and debt levels - the Trussell Trust says -

'Across all households the most common reason for referral was due to issues with income and debt levels. The vital role of the social security system in driving these trends is clear from the fact that the majority (78 per cent) of people referred to food banks were reported to solely have income from the social security system, with a further 8 per cent having earned income as well as income from social security.'

Trussell Trust Chief Executive Emma Revie said -

'It’s 2024 and we’re facing historically high levels of food bank need. As a society, we cannot allow this to continue. We must not let food banks become the new norm ... A supportive social security system is the bedrock on which we end hunger for good. Building on this, we need much more effective employment and financial support for parents, carers and disabled people, and action to ensure everyone can have the security we all need to access opportunities and have hope for the future, through more secure and flexible jobs and investment in social housing. Food banks are not the answer. They will be there to support people as long as they are needed, but our political leaders must take bold action to build a future where everyone has enough money to afford the life’s essentials. The time to act is now.'

For more information, see End of Year Stats from trusselltrust.org
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Employment Minister Jo Churchill has provided a House of Lords Select Committee with an undertaking that the administrative earnings threshold (AET) in universal credit will not be increased again without a 'sound evidence base'
However, Minister's evidence to Lords Committee fails to address its dissatisfaction with DWP's explanation for not publishing robust evidence to support previous increases in the threshold.
Further to the Lords Secondary Legislation Scrutiny Committee's report on new regulations that implemented a further increase in the AET from 13 May 2024 - that criticised the ‘inexplicable’ lack of data evaluating previous increases in the threshold in September 2022 and January 2023 - the Committee held a one-off evidence session yesterday to question the Minister and DWP officials.
Introducing the session, Committee Chair Lord Hunt acknowledged that the DWP had agreed to share its informal findings supporting its AET policy. However Lord Hunt added that -

'... similar, no doubt to the material that the Social Security Advisory Committee saw but correctly declined, if information is not available to the House and the public, then we feel unable to consider it either.'

The Committee then questioned the Minister about the Department's failure to publish evidence providing an assessment of the impact of increasing the AET either before or after implementing the change.
In response, Ms Churchill highlighted that the Department did publish a randomised controlled trial evaluation in 2018 providing the highest level of evidence on the impacts of increased in-work conditionality that Ministers have had sight of. When challenged that this evidence is somewhat outdated and 'a bit threadbare' - as it has been relied on for three increases in the AET - Ms Churchill indicated that Ministers also had early sight of unpublished research (a Regression Discontinuity Design (RDD) study) that compares the experiences of claimants who are just below and just above the AET.
When pressed on the expected publication dates for this and further evidence, Mr Churchill said -

'I have asked for [the RDD study] to be available as soon as it can be, and the date I was given was spring 2024 ... I would like it out the door as soon as possible, so you have more data ... RDD is the next piece, the next building block and then, the longitudinal study will come through in 2025.'

Concluding the session with a final question, Lord Hunt, speaking on behalf of the whole Committee, said -

'... we're looking for an undertaking from you, not to further expand the cohort until the Department can publish robust evidence of its effects. Are you able to give us that undertaking?

Ms Churchill responded -

'So are you alluding to us holding 15 hours or with this latest laying at 18? Because I could certainly say to you, I think with all confidence that at 18, we want to understand the iterations and make sure that we've got a sound evidence base from there.'

NB - the increase in the AET in January 2023 was based, for individuals, on the equivalent of them working 15 hours per week at the National Living Wage, and this week's increase to the equivalent of them working 18 hours per week.
Despite welcoming the Minister's reply, Lord Hunt went on to say -

'... we accept your undertaking, except we are still as dissatisfied as we were because you haven't provided, in the view of the Committee, sufficient explanation yet. We are awaiting this robust evidence, which I think that we now expect in June 2024.'

The evidence session Regulations to increase the Administrative Earnings Threshold (Legislative scrutiny) is available from parliament.tv
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Work and Pensions Select Committee has called on the government to bring forward proposals to compensate women born in the 1950s who suffered as a result of the DWP's communication failures when their pension age was increased, and asks that it does so in the current parliamentary session
Committee chair highlights lengthy delay and urgency for affected women and calls on government to act on Parliamentary Ombudsman recommendations before summer recess.
Writing to Secretary of State for Work and Pensions Mel Stride, Committee Chair Stephen Timms requests government support for 'urgent action' following the Parliamentary Ombudsman's final report in March 2024 which recommended a remedy based on level 4 of its severity of injustice scale, putting awards at between £1,000 and £2,950.
Mr Timms says that the Committee does not seek to question the Ombudsman's proposal for compensation at level 4, but instead has focused on what a remedy may look like -

'The evidence we received indicated support for a rules-based system. This would be a system where payments would be adjusted within a range (based on the PHSO’s severity of injustice scale) to reflect the extent of change in the individual’s State Pension age and the notice of the change which the individual received. This would mean that the less notice you had of the change and the bigger the change in your SPA, the higher the payment you would receive. While not perfect, the advantages of such a system are that it would be: quick to administer; applying known data to a formula to determine the amount due; and relatively inexpensive (compared to a more bespoke system).'

The Committee's recommendation also includes some flexibility for individuals to make the case for further compensation in the event that they have experienced direct financial loss, for example where a woman whose divorce settlement was less than it would have been because it was based on the expectation that she would receive her state pension at 60.
Mr Timms also asks the government to consider -

'... the need for urgent action, given that the Ombudsman started to look at this issue in 2018 and that every 13 minutes a woman born in the 1950s dies ... Implementing a remedy will need parliamentary time, financial resources, and the data and technical systems only available to your department. It cannot happen without government support. We would ask you to bring forward proposals for a remedy by the summer recess.'

Mr Timms' letter to the Secretary of State for Work and Pensions is available from parliament.uk
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More misery bird? More misery bird. Really miserymaxxing with these fics I have going, but hey, this one is not that miserable actually! Krekos is back and ready to be dense and downcast, but maybe not quite miserable? Read and see!
Big thank you to NoP community for being great and supportive of my endeavors!
Also, obviously, big thanks to SpacePaladin15 for creating this universe and allowing fanfiction well to flow free!
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Memory transcription subject: Krekos, Krakotl Refugee
Date [standardized human time]: May 6th, 2137
I stare at the foul creature before me. Normally staring at something directly head on like that would be too predatory for me to do, but after nearly dying of bread yesterday, I didn’t feel patient enough to be gentle. The creature stared right back, though in a much more natural, prey-like way, tilting its head slightly as it looked back at me with one eye and let out a long bwok.
“Are you doing this now? Really?”, I ask, knowing full well it cannot respond.
Well, it can, if another bwok it made is any indication. Of course, translators aren’t yet advanced enough to translate non-sapient speech, but the intention behind sound is intuitively clear. It’s telling me to back off. Well, I tried the diplomatic approach at least.
Raising my wing I begin sliding the bird out of its nest, careful to keep any delicate joints out of its reach. It started clucking in upset indignation, struggling back and even trying to peck at me, but after realizing that I will not relent, it hopped out of the box and rushed out of the cattle house, revealing a single dead egg in the nesting box.
With relief, I finally pick up the last egg and head back to leave them at the house. Turns out that while Reginald didn’t forget to both lock them up yesterday and let them out today, he did neglect feeding them both times, as well as collecting the harvest. So when I was driven back here in early morning, the first thing I did was making sure they were taken care of. I can’t say the horrid birds looked in any way hungry, but the moment I poured the feeding grain for them, they attacked it with more viciousness than I’d expect of an actual predator. And yet only thirteen were present at the feeding, as the one that’s usually the target of flock’s ire remained in the cattle house yet again, Reginald leaving it to it, being unaware of its undesirable habit of trying to hatch dead eggs.
With eggs delivered, I flew my way to my usual spot atop the cattle house and could finally relax. The loner beast first made its way to feast on the scraps of the grain that other birds already all have had their fill of, so I wasn’t too concerned. Instead I tried to reflect on the morning I had so far.
Waking up at the hospital did make me momentarily panic before I remembered the precluding events. Not that I could properly panic, feeling the most starved I’ve been my whole life, and too weak to try flying out of the window. Thankfully, the breakfast they provided was actually well made with krakotl needs in mind, algae soup alongside a few slices of bread, this time without any horrid human ideas like putting eggs in there. Eggs! Turns out they put eggs in some kinds of bread! That’s how I got sick! Eggs! The thought of what I consumed even now made me queasy, and it definitely made breakfast a much less appetizing affair than it would have been without that knowledge, but back then the hunger won over the disgust.
Lena did keep her promise and came to pick me up extra early. Her being a staff member at the hospital gave her some extra privilege, I assume, hence why I was released without any forms needing to be filled out personally. She did have important business today too, which probably explained the earlyness and urgency of her driving me back to her house.
That did not mean I escaped her ire, however. While I couldn’t pinpoint anything to identify the man, as Bob was apparently a common name, that offered me bread, we did come to understanding that he was likely either unaware of the nutritional contents of it, or of extent to which the Cure-induced allergy would be affecting a krakotl. Yet, Lena seemed much angrier at me for failing to take any precautions. Turns out that was the purpose of medicinal injectors, epipens as humans call them, that were provided to me. I was supposed to have them on me in case I accidentally ingested contaminated food. Nobody told me that, I was just handed them back when I first received the necessities at the refugee camp and I had no clue what they were for. Then she also berated me for eating random food from strangers and ignoring bad flavors. Turns out that brioche bread isn’t actually bitter at all, and that was my body reacting to an allergen in it. Reaction that I unwisely elected to ignore, to further ire of my host. By the end, several new rules of my stay here were made, including not eating things I don’t know and always having at least one epipen on me. Thankfully, these rules would be ones I’d start following even without them being established, so I won’t have to concern myself with being kicked out over accidentally breaking them.
As if following the rules will be enough to make them like you.
Trying to distract myself from thoughts of yesterday’s incident, I focused my attention on the flock. All birds accounted for, so at least I knew that my absence did not result in the predator coming to snatch one of them. I do not wish to insult my hosts, but Reginald is far from most attentive people in matters unrelated to his job, and I am not sure the birds were watched at all while I was out. Speaking of, my scannings of surrounding treelines revealed no sign of the predator today. Perhaps it departed to hunt elsewhere, or maybe it ventured too close to a more populated area and exterminators dealt with it.
Actually, did human exterminators work similar to Federation ones? I knew for a fact they had them, although they seemed like a market of private organizations if advertisements are anything to judge by. Still, what methods do they use? I know humans oppose fire, and do not believe in predatory taint, but surely they have measures to protect themselves? They are, by self-admission, far from the best natural predator, and I doubt Earth’s non-sapient predators would just leave humans be. Maybe I should call one of those human exterminator agencies and call them in to deal with that predator? I haven’t told Lena or Reginald about it, as I didn’t want to bother them, but it could pose a serious threat to the cattle, but maybe that’s the way I could resolve it without involving them?
I have not done nearly as much research into human culture and lifestyle as I should have, considering that I’ve lived on Earth for over half a year now, but the sheer width of the topic always overwhelmed me the moment I opened internet search app to the point where I just closed it right away.
And you expect to start studying again with that attitude? You’ll flunk out even from this primitive predator education course.
Extra loud call from the flock made me refocus my attention on them, but it was nothing. Just the loner getting pecked extra hard and lashing out against assailants, causing a small aimless stampede as all the birds ran around in circles, puffing up at one another. The assailants now looked a lot more like victims. I could understand those birds more than I could humans at least. The loner bird is clearly an odd one out. It’s the only one repeatedly trying to hatch unfertilized eggs it lays, and it seems to always avoid the rest of the flock. Humans may deny the existence of Predator Disease, but they can’t deny that prey and predator both can and will sometimes behave in unnatural ways that may threaten the herd's safety. Or pack’s, in case of humans. Birds must know on instinctual level that the loner’s behavior is unnatural and are attempting to combat the Predator Disease on instinctual level. And since that is natural, I still will not interfere in this, unless the loner bird actually becomes a threat to others or will start getting too injured. The first time I attempted to pick one of the birds up was the only time for a good reason, as I have learned their viciousness all too well.
DING-DING
The sudden loud ring startled me enough that I nearly tumbled off the roof. Who would be coming over now? Lena and Reginald have left together and shouldn’t be back until afternoon, and they’d never use the bell. That means someone must be here for them. But wouldn’t they warn anyone to not come over? Especially with their plans for today.
With nobody to answer these questions, I had no choice but to go and discover the answer myself, flying up and over the house, towards the entrance gate. The moment I passed the house roof, I already saw a familiar silhouette. It was the human child from a few days ago.
Thankfully, Lena’s insistence on me carrying an epipen at all times meant I also carried my satchel at all times too, so I didn’t have to go grabbing my holopad, and took it out. But before I could even launch the translator TTS app to type out a greeting, the child was already hopping in place with excitement.
“Mr. Krekos! Hi! I came over to visit!”, she exclaimed, showing off her teeth in an unnerving expression of human joy. I simply tried to avoid that and focused on the pad, typing out my response.
“Hello, Rosie. Why are you here?”
The question was genuine, as the child was not carrying any more of that honey substance from last time.
“I just came over to visit you! Is that okay? Are Mr. and Ms. Vince okay with it?”
Visit... me? Why? While I was confused, I did instinctively type out a reply.
“They did tell me visitors are allowed as long as there’s no trouble when I first moved in.”
And before I could type a followup message asking her why she’s here, she already let out a joyous roar and ran past me.
“Can I see the chickens?”, she asked, and not waiting for an answer, rushed past the house and towards the cattle yard.
“Wait! You’ll scare them!”, I yell after her, but of course without a translator she can’t understand me as she runs like she already knows where to go.
And indeed she has, quickly rushing up to the open field where the birds were grazing. Thankfully she didn’t start chasing them, instead just approaching the flock from a distance and swaying in place, watching them with what I assume was some sort of predatory excitement at the sight of prey. Maybe that’s where the contained hunting instinct of human children showed themselves? In chasing small birds? I was still more subdued, considering she stopped shy of causing a small stampede, but still.
“Grandpa used to take me with him! He helped watch this farm until Mr. and Ms. Vince moved in. I like chickens! I think they’re cute.”, the child told me innocently as she kept swaying and watching as the beasts grazed upon insects of the pasture.
That revelation was... interesting. I suppose it makes sense that between the original owner of this land dying in the bombings and Lena and Reginald moving in, it would be unattended. With nobody to feed and watch over those things, they would be long dead for sure. And it was Rosie’s grandfather... Speaking of. I typed out my words.
“Does your grandfather know you’re here?”
She seemed to get a weird look as she stopped her excited swaying, fiddling with her hands instead. Looks like I asked the correct question.
“...he knows I am out visiting neighbors.”
That did not answer my question. I squinted at the human child, and she dipped her head as she continued.
“...he doesn’t know I’m here specifically. Or that an alien even lives here...”, she explained, her tone suddenly more sullen.
I couldn’t help but squint at that, and it appears that my expression was readable enough that even a human could see the suspicion, as she continued.
“I’m sorry... But if I told grandpa, he’d tell me I’m forbidden from talking to you, like he forbade me from talking to hedgehog people in town... But I want to talk to you! You’re nice and you’re a space bird!”
The child was actually working around the rules established by her guardian to come see me. I don’t know if I should be glad or concerned. Clearly, the man is anti-alien in his opinions, and I’d rather that kind of man not know about how close he lives to one. At the same time, I’d rather not encourage a child for lying to their guardian in order to meet a stranger they know they aren’t allowed to interact with... So I just took the middle path with my next message.
“I see. What did you want to talk to me about then?”, TTS speaks for me.
Her stiffened body language disappears, replaced again with earlier excitement.
“I wanna know more about space! And aliens! It’s all so cool but grandpa says it’s all dangerous because mom and dad died. But it’s not! The hedgehog people were nice, and you’re nice too!”
I wasn’t sure about that logic, but my self-preservation told me I shouldn’t try convincing her to go confessing. Instead I focused more on her chosen topic.
“I am not sure I am the best person to ask about space. I am not a scientist or traveler.”
“But you’re from there! You know way more than me. I don’t even know what you are called. And there’s gotta be cool things out in space!”
I let out a sigh. I suppose it’s childlike curiosity at its finest. So unfamiliar with mundane that it is a wonder. I remember being like that about becoming a doctor.
And then you let your teacher die.
I quickly tapped on the pad.
“Okay, I can answer questions, but I may not know everything.”
The noise that came out of the girl was like a squeal of a panicked dossur as she started hopping and spinning in place.
“Yes! Yes! Thank you, Mr. Krekos!” Sudden movement did cause me to recoil a bit, which in turn caused her to cease her happy flailing and adjust her little dress. “I dunno where to start though... Hm... What are you?”
...for all my trepidation about not knowing answers, I should have anticipated that the questions she asks will be rather age-appropriate and on the same level as we learn in our first school classes. At least I won’t disappoint her then.
“I am from a species called ‘krakotl’. We’re avians, as is obvious. Our home is...” dead, gone, reduced to glass and ash by our own hubris “...was Nishtal. A beautiful planet...”
Thankfully she did not question my hesitant pause. Instead she just nodded along.
“What about the hedgehog people? I already know venlil, but they’re the only ones I know name of.”
Hedgehog people in town she mentioned earlier. The only species I could think of that could be seen there would be the gojid. I have no clue what hedgehogs are, but probably some creature with visible similarity to them.
“They are called ‘gojid’, and they’re from gojid Cradle. Both of our species are... well, used to be known for our might and protecting other species of Federation.”
I am not sure if that’s something to brag about, considering... everything. But I didn’t want this child to get brought down with depressing regrets of our species. Let her know something nicer instead. She clearly lost a lot, but there’s still joy left in her. I wouldn’t want to be the one to ruin that.
“Cool! What about other people? I wanna know more!”
And so I went on, telling her about various species, although I mostly focused on ones in this new human-led union, only mentioning kolshians and farsul beyond that. It’s weird explaining to a child what a tilfish or a harchen looks like, but thankfully my holopad isn’t just a method of communicating with implant-less children. With access to interstellar web, I could easily pull up pictures of various alien species to show to her, even if she struggled to believe that some of them were even sapient purely based off of looks. With how varied species in Federation are, and how some of us admittedly aren’t too far physiologically from our more primal ancestors.
Among other topics, she asked me to tell her interesting things, which I didn’t know much of. I told her about Venlil Prime’s tidally locked status, a rarity among habitable planets, much less homeworlds for species. I told her about the unique architecture of Mileau, designed to accommodate both species of regular size and dossur themselves. I told her about Colia medical academies, some of the most beautiful medical facilities in the galaxy.
I wish I was more well-travelled, but I just wasn’t. My whole life, I never left Nishtal until the extermination fleet took me despite my protests. That may have been what saved my life...
Not that I, of all people, deserved it...
“Hey! Stop that!”
I flinched as I heard the child yell, but quickly realized that it wasn’t directed at me. Instead, Rosie was rushing down towards the chicken flock, breaking up the fight in which the loner was being pecked by a few larger chickens. As the human child approached, the birds stopped their infighting and scattered in different directions, crowing in loud panic and discontent. On instinct, I found myself rushing towards the child, forgetting about translation entirely.
“What are you doing?! Don’t touch them!”
I didn’t want her to hurt the cattle accidentally, and I didn’t want her to get hurt by the angry birds in return. But, it seems like the moment the birds scattered, she was satisfied with her actions and turned back to me, wearing another one of her happy smiles.
“Sorry, Mr. Krekos, I just saw chickens being mean. Bad chickens.” She explained.
I was baffled. Why would she interfere like that? When I tried that back when I was just starting, that got me pecked! But with her, the birds just scattered. What if they pecked her?
I took the pad out again and started typing quickly.
“That was dangerous. Why did you do that? What if they attacked you? Why are you even interfering in their natural dynamics?”, questions flowed out of my pad with an artificial human voice.
The girl simply giggled.
“They’re chickens! They aren’t dangerous. They don’t peck that painful and I’ve been scratched worse before. And I have to stop it because bullying is wrong.”
Then she actually noticed that the one that was being attacked wandered close. She casually approached it from behind, the blind spot and just reached down and grabbed it, picking the bird up. I was ready to rush to help the bird when...
“Mwah! There, all better.”
She did a human ‘kiss’ on the back of the cattle bird’s neck before releasing it, the surprise of it causing it to rush off. I knew what kisses were, I’ve seen enough of them between Lena and Reginald, but I believed they were gestures of intimate affection, not... what was even that?
It seems Rosie noticed my confusion as she explained.
“You gotta kiss it so it heals better! That’s what mom taught me.” The child displayed that smile of hers shamelessly. With how much I was being exposed to it, it almost wasn’t unnerving anymore. Still, it was interesting to learn that kisses are seen as something that helps wounds. I guess some species do have saliva with mild antiseptic properties, wouldn’t be too out there to assume humans are the same. And if that’s the case, maybe that’s how the kissing tradition started? Exchange of protective fluid between lovers?
“I see. I did not know that.” I responded before letting my puffed feathers relax. Okay, this whole ‘watching a human child’ thing is turning out to somehow be even more stressful than I expected at first.
“Wait, Mr. Krekos, what time is it?” She suddenly asked, looking up at the sky.
“It’s nearly twelve.” I respond, holopad having a convenient clock for local time.
“Oh no! I need to be home soon! Was nice seeing you Mr. Krekos gotta go bye!”
Before I had even a chance at typing out an answer or my own goodbye, the child sprinted away and back towards the entrance. I had to take flight just to keep up, and even then she just turned around, waved her arm at me and then kept sprinting down the road after leaving the gate. I simply offered a small wave of a wing back before locking the gate again. I suppose it is hard to keep track of time without a device or clock nearby...
Well, at least I had the usual peace and quiet now. And learned a bit more about the creatures I was in charge of. I should really try to deal with my aversion to looking things up on the human internet...
Just as I was about to head back out towards the yard, I heard a loud car horn, a familiar one, getting my attention. Lena’s car. There they were, signaling me, probably having spotted me at the gate from afar. Deciding to make use of my presence here, and hoping to avoid needing to explain that I had a surprise visitor earlier, I went ahead and opened the large gate, allowing the car to enter.
Once it was parked in the usual space, the doors opened and three people came out. Lena and Reginald were both looking a bit disheveled, but their faces carried these smiles that seemed wider than ever before. And third person... Was a stranger. A human I knew of, but never actually met. As he exited the car, a large bag in one hand, he just stared at me, standing in the front yard...
“...okay, I expected many things when I was told you guys housed a refugee, but not this.”
Oh no. Oh no, he was not one of the ones that was willing to overlook an invader that partook in bombing of his planet being allowed to walk free, of course, Lena and Reginald were the weird ones like that, doesn’t mean their son won’t be... I felt the panic rising as I realized I’d need to return to the camp. Why was I upset about that? This was supposed to just have been a way to make money, but now I have a free education program. Do I need to stay? No, but... Why?! Why do I not want to leave?
“Ken, you said it’s going to be alright no matter what it is, right? Wanted us to keep it a surprise to meet a new friend?” Lena’s voice. She should have told him, that’d give me time to prepare why didn’t they give me time why.
“No, no problems, just, really surprised, that’s all... uh... hey, buddy, you okay? You’re really... trembly.”
He was approaching me, and instinct took over as I recoiled, before stuttering out my answer.
“I-I’m fine...”
...thankfully translators don’t translate voice cracks. I hope, at least...
“Hey, relax... I have no problem with you being a krakotl, I just didn’t think...” He looks over at Lena and Reginald. “Calm down... I can wear my visor if you want?”
Right. Those things humans use to hide their scary faces from us.
“I... I’m good...”
Why would it last? It almost felt good after all.
There was some emotion I struggled to read on the young human’s face, as he sighed and shook his head.
“I screwed this up, I’m sorry. Let... Let me try again.” He straightened out, and adjusted his clothing, before slowly approaching me and giving me a small smile, no teeth showing. “Hello. My name is Kenneth Vince and I'm son of Lena and Reginald Vince. I was told you’re a refugee they took in to help out. It’s nice to meet you. What’s your name?”
That... snapped me out of it. Right... He was... not upset at my existence. He was just very surprised that Lena and Reginald weren’t. That’s a reasonable thing to be surprised about, considering I was surprised about it to this day. I tried to compose myself as I responded.
“My name is Krekos. I live here as... hired help with the cattle. It’s... nice to meet you?”
The smile on Kenneth’s face widens, though he still refrains from showing his teeth. Instead, he extends a hand towards me. A handshake is a human gesture that I found far from comfortable, but I didn’t want to give him a reason to change his mind on acceptability of my existence, so I took it with a wingclaw. He gently took it and held for a few seconds before letting go and sighing again, turning to his parents.
“You know, I always thought you guys would be empty nesters, but I never thought it’d be that literal.”
That got all three of them laughing, as I just tilted my head in confusion. I was fairly sure there were no empty nests in the house until after I adjusted the attic room for my own accommodations. Still, I took the laughter as a sign that the tense moment had fully passed and let my ruffled feathers slowly rest.
“Let’s head inside. Krekos, we’re having dinner, you’re welcome to join us.” Reginald said, picking up Kenneth’s bag. I tilted my head a little and he followed up with elaboration. “We will be having meat... But there’s still going to be stuff you can eat too. It’s a celebration, so I prepared a bit of everything.”
“Dad, you shouldn’t have!” Kenneth responded with embarrassment.
“None of that! Our son returned from the war, alive and a hero, and we can have a celebration. Krekos, I know you’re still... uncertain about meat so you don’t—”
“I’ll join.”
Wait, who said that? And why did they say that in my voice?
Wait, that was me. Why did I say that?
“That’s great to hear! I’ve got some nice steamed broccoli and some vegetarian fried rice as sides that you’ll enjoy!” Reginald smiled at me and I felt myself shrinking into my feathers. That the humans didn’t notice at least, proceeding into the house instead.
Well, looks like I signed my warrant. At least my bag and my epipen were on me in case something at the table triggers the allergy again. Would be rather unfortunate to have it happen two days in a row.
And that’s how, in just ten or so minutes, I found myself sitting at the dining perch, while humans took seats in chairs, all consuming chunks of roasted flesh and somehow managing to also stuff pieces of equally roasted plants in, and converse with one another. You wouldn’t be able to tell on first look, but despite their mouths being relatively small, especially for a predator, it seems they compensate for it by having those be near bottomless in both hunger and small talk.
I am not sure how I managed to shift my focus away from them consuming animal matter in front of me, however vat grown it might have been, and onto their conversation instead, but I succeeded. I suppose that was just part of me going native around predators. Soon, I’ll be the one feasting along with them before I know it, and snacking on those epipens to not die of it.
Like you could ever be on the same level as humans.
“So, Fahl? That’s where you were sent after the Battle of Earth?” Lena asked.
“Yeah. From what I heard, we got a light posting compared to guys at Sillis or Mileau. The most I had to deal with was some exterminator insurgents.”
That’s right. Since harchen participated in the Extermination Fleet, they were one of those who were occupied by humans during the war. It makes sense that there was at least some ground resistance.
“Honestly, the worst thing out there was the heat. Not the flamethrower kind, the climate. The place was so damn dry and hot. At least exterminators you could subdue or evade. Not so much with the scorching sun!”
I couldn’t resist a small chuckle at the idea of a predator being more afraid of hot weather than flamethrowers as I slowly pecked at the vegetables on my plate. Thankfully it was set far enough aside from any meat dishes that no contamination should occur, but I was still examining pieces before putting them in my mouth just in case.
Seems like reacting was a mistake though, as that brought Kenneth’s attention onto me. He finished chewing latest piece of flesh and pointed a fork at me.
“So, Krekos... Where are you from? Cradle was my guess, but I do know there were refugees from other places like Sillis too.”
That’s a weird question. Isn’t it kind of to be expected for a krakotl to be from our actual homeworld?”
“I’m from Nishtal.”
“No, no, that’s not what I meant,” Kenneth chuckled, tossing a piece of broccoli into his mouth and swallowing before continuing, “I meant, where did you live? I kind of assumed you were born there, but it’s not like Nishtal had a chance to send refugees out, and if they did, this is the last place they’d be.”
Oh... I caught concerned looks of Lena and Reginald, looking between me and Kenneth from both sides. Not only did they not make him aware that I was a krakotl, they also neglected to mention just how I came by my refugee status... Which was just a legal workaround to grant me asylum without unnecessary complications or establishing undesirable precedent. Legally, I may be a refugee, but practically... I am a defector. Lena and Reginald know that, I told them my story before. And while they were weirdly accepting, Kenneth... Fought extermination fleet here on Earth. Personally.
Still, I wasn’t about to lie. It took a few moments and gathering mental strength to steel myself, and averting my eyes, focusing on the plate of warm vegetables in front of me rather than the human’s anticipating stare before I answered.
“I did live on Nishtal. I... I came with the extermination fleet.” I responded, doing my best to avoid looking at him. I did not want to witness his reaction, for some reason the thought of seeing it weighed heavy on my mind.
“Oh.”
The response was simple, and had no followup. There was no more clinking of cutlery against plates, or chewing. The only thing hanging in the air of the kitchen was silence, weighing down on me. It dragged on and on... until it just got so unbearable I couldn’t take it.
“I-I’m full... Thank you for the meal.” I quickly said, hopping off the perch and stepping out of the kitchen, quickly making my way to the yard and taking flight.
Fresh air of the outside and rush of it as I flew up and gained speed... I missed that. I knew it’s not safe to just fly over other people’s territory, so I corrected my course into doing large sweeping circles over the cattle yard and simply let my wings carry me.
Flying away from any danger is the only thing I’m good for anyway. The only thing I ever do.
I closed my eyes. With them closed and not focusing on my angle it feels like I’m actually flying away from all the troubles. Away from humans who barely tolerate my existence, away from gojid who see me as worse than a predator, away from Earth and all its incorrigible customs, away from horrid cattle, away from constant memories...
Flying feels nice. It may be a bit harder than it was home, but it’s still possible. I heard that on Venlil Prime or Mileau it’s much harder. But here? Just an extra flap of wings for every few paces and you’re just fine, free to soar the skies...
Alone. With no one to ever share it with me again.
Slowly I let my eyes open back to the bleak reality. Greenery of surrounding pastures and woods, bright blue skies and farmhouses dotted about here and there greeted me. I lowered my gaze down, focusing on what’s below. There they were, fourteen brown and black dots spread around the enclosed portion of the farm territory. I am not sure how much time I’ve spent flying in circles and trying to forget things but my wings were feeling a tad sore. Then as I just began slow descent, in same circular motion, I noticed that one of the birds, a familiar one, was being chased by several others. Recounting the morning, I tried putting the knowledge to action, and shifted direction of descent, swooping down. To my surprise, that actually worked, as the moment I got close to the ground, the cattle birds all got much louder and scattered in all directions, including the loner. Who, at least this time, got off unharmed. I suppose such pathetic flightless creatures would fear a flying one much more than they would when I just run up to them...
Swooping at them from the sky like a predator to intimidate them into behaving... Like an arxur warden.
With the fight preemptively broken up, I flutter up to the roof of the cattle house, to my usual position and rested my wings. I didn’t see any movement from the direction of the house, so I suppose the family is still busy unpacking. Since Kenneth joined the military just before the Battle of Earth, and Lena and Reginald only moved here after their actual house in city of New York got destroyed, it’d be the first time the human is seeing what is basically his new home. There was a room set aside for him since before I even moved in, and while there is also a guest room... That one did not have a large enough window to fit through, which did not feel comfortable. So when I asked for a space with a bigger window they only had an attic to offer. They seemed uncomfortable letting me live in a tiny room with slanted roof, but I found such space more comforting than I would have a large room with a window not large enough to fit even one fully spread wing through.
I wonder if Kenneth will need as much renovation as I did? The house is built for humans, but he never lived there before. Will he need to buy a more comfortable bed? Getting a proper nesting setup in place of a bed took a bit of effort, but I figured something out. Human sheets were comfortable enough for such, and sitting perches were thankfully not that hard to get thanks to help from the refugee administration. Maybe that’s the things that Lena went to buy yesterday? Kenneth’s preferred room decor?
I looked up to the sky to see the sun beginning to dim. I am not sure if it was me flying that long, or me losing track of time in my thoughts again, but the sun was beginning to set. I began my usual chores, putting out an evening meal and water for the beasts, and while they feasted, ate some myself. I was a bit hungry, having not properly finished lunch and about to skip dinner, but after the earlier conversation, I’d really rather avoid giving them the opportunity to talk to me.
After the birds had their fill, and by that I mean they emptied the tray as they always do, I let out the call, and they started funneling into the cattle house. The lonely straggler being first to go and hop into its nesting box. I bet tomorrow I will have trouble with getting her out of there again...
I took the moment to gather some eggs the birds left over course of the day, and once that was over and all of them were accounted for, I closed it up. When I flew down over to the house, there wasn’t anyone by the back door thankfully, so I just left eggs there, returned the basket, and returned to my room through the window.
Well, at least I didn’t get nearly killed today... That’s nice I guess?
I was about to check my holopad when there was a knock on the door. I approached and opened it to see... Kenneth. Standing in the doorway.
“Uh, hi, Krekos. I just, uh... Wanted to apologize again. I really wish mom and dad told me everything ahead of time... I just want you to know, I have no problems with you whatsoever, yeah? It’s just. Surprising, I guess, to hear all that. I didn’t think there were any defectors from the fleet at all... Just. Uh, please don’t worry about me?” He offered me a small smile, showing his canines before quickly correcting himself and doing a closed-lip one. “I didn’t mean to bring up bad memories or make you feel unwelcome.”
I had to take a moment to contemplate his words. Was Lena and Reginald’s weirdness hereditary? He almost reminded me of how Reginald talked to me early on, with constant stumbling over the words, as well as constant reassurances that he is fine with me being here. Couple that with failing to avoid predatory mannerisms like eye contact and smiles like Lena tends to and you get this human. But most importantly and least understandably, there was the general fact of him and them just... welcoming me. I couldn’t understand why. I should be one sorry to them.
“N-No, it’s fine... I’m sorry for... intruding on you and your family.”
“No, no, dude, you’re fine! I mean, hell, I was considering entering one of those exchange programs before the bombings happened, and even after, well, I did my best at Fahl to be the perfect friendly soldier just there to make sure no more bombs drop on my home and not kill or conquer anyone. And then mom told me your story, and I can’t believe it... Just... If you have any issues, feel free to tell me. I’m not one of those racist pricks that are too pussy to even call themselves HF anymore because they know they’ll get their teeth knocked. I get that there aren't good or bad species, just people. And you seem like a decent guy if mom and dad’s judgment is to be trusted.” His smile widened, though it was clear from tension on his face that he had to take conscious effort to keep teeth hidden. “So, what I said earlier stands. Friends, right?”
He extends hand forward, for a second time today. I wasn’t sure if I knew this human long enough to call him a friend... Any human really. But it also seems like human definition of ‘friends’ is anyone they’re cordial and peaceful with. Which is weird. You’d think translators would properly use ‘acquaintance’ for that.
Still... We will be living in the same house now. I can’t just say no, and... I can’t come up with a reason to say no. Even him being a predator and a human is not something I could really say I object to, considering how... mundane that became to me over my time here.
So, with naught on my mind but acceptance of the situation, I extended my wing and grasped his hand with my claw. This time he actually gripped it tightly and moved it up and down, as I saw other humans do occasionally.
“Yeah... I guess that’d be for the best.” I responded, shrugging off the hesitation. Fresh start for a third time, I guess?
The human grinned, forgetting to hide his teeth entirely, but I was ready for it somehow and avoided outwardly reacting.
“Cool! Anyway, I’ll try to get some shuteye early, I couldn’t sleep on the overnight flight home. See ya!”
And with that he left. Well... That meeting went well I suppose?
I returned to my nest and picked up my holopad, returning to what I was doing. And there it was, something I awaited every day. A notification that I was messaged on mailing app. Opening the letter revealed the schedule for the study program. Which... only had one day marked on it. And a note that the rest of it will be figured out ‘as we go from there’. So it’s not a schedule, it’s just a mark for the day of the first meeting.
While a bit underwhelming, it was still exciting. It would be an all-alien class so I wouldn’t have to deal with humans’ incomprehensibility nearly as much, and it would allow me to finally return to pursuing what I actually dreamt of. Even if I wasn’t entirely sure that was precisely what I wanted after everything that happened, it was at least something for me to move towards.
...just two days until start. I wonder if there’s some required reading to prepare?
[First] - [Prev] - [Next]

Inspired by MichaeltheSpikester's idea of a shared world, decided to add my variation of it. But with extra media that I think would fit well with this shared world.
-Several dimensions that were connected to Earth-199999 are not only the Astral, Dark, Mirror, K'un-Lun, Ta Lo, Duat, etc. but also consisted of Chronobowl (DCEU), Mount Olympus (DCEU), Axis Mundi (MonsterVerse), 4 Nations (Avatar: The Last Airbender), Spirit World (Avatar: The Last Airbender), Xadia (Netflix's The Dragon Prince), Heaven & Hell (Hazbin Hotel/Helluva Boss), and the Kraang Dimension (TMNT).
-The Titan's origins originated from the Celestial Tiamut from the Earth's core with the cosmic energy mutating small creatures into giant monsters. It is revealed that every planet in the universe not only has its celestials but also has its own set of Titans that play a key role in the planet's ecosystem. King Ghidorah is revealed to be one of the last few members of his species who survived his planet's Emergence and the reason why he and his kind terraform worlds is to rebuild the home they lost.
-Heaven and the Kraang played a role in the development of the Human race where it is revealed that Humans have various animal DNA, thus having the dormant gene that ties them to their animal ancestor.
-Lilith would be considered the "First Scarlet Witch".
-Due to Heaven's influence, their magic created the Gods and Goddesses in the universe. Adam would eventually create the Council of Godheads, where he is good friends with Zeus from Thor: Love and Thunder (aka Jupiter, the Roman counterpart of Zeus).
-The celestial's cosmic energy not only created Hollow Earth but also created pockets from the Earth's surface that created portals that allowed access to Hollow Earth from the surface.
-Asgardians, ancient Wakanda, Eternals, and Titans banding together with humanity, ancient Atlantis, ancient Green Lanterns, Olympians, and Themsycira in the fight against Darkseid, Steppenwolf, and their forces in ancient history.
-It is revealed that Titans, such as Sehkmet, Na Kika, and an unnamed Thunderbird Titan are responsible for Bashenga's, Talokanil's, and Chafa's origins and abilities instead of the Gods and Goddesses from Thor: Love and Thunder.
-The Titans and Startouch Elves would be labeled as "low-level" gods by the Council of Godheads.
-Atlantis, Asgard, Themyscira, Heaven, and Olympus (When the Greek Gods were still around) were aware of the existence of Titans and the role they play in the Earth's ecosystem. Similar to Asgardians, Titans were responsible for many legends and myths regarding mythical creatures and gods. The relationship between them and benevolent titans would be at best mutual notably towards those like Godzilla and Mothra but otherwise would be at odds with destroyer titans like Rodan and Scylla.
-The Eternals are aware of the Titans as well. Ikaris proposed killing them since they would be affecting the Earth's population and preventing the Emergence from progressing. However, Ajak talked him out of it as they observed Godzilla's species preserving the balance of nature, keeping the population steadying, keeping the other Titans at bay, and hunting/killing giant Deviants as well.
-The Eternals once met with Mothra, who Sersi and Sprite formed a close bond with.
-The animalistic Egyptian Gods and Goddesses (Khonshu, Anubis, Ammit, Tawaret, Horus, etc.) were once human-looking Gods/Goddesses before being exposed to the Kraang's Ooze, which mutated them into more animalistic creatures.
-Godzilla has a mixed relationship with the Eternals. While he approves them for keeping the Earth safe, he doesn't trust them due to their "unnatural" nature due to being from space, which is the same with King Ghidorah.
-Prior to his arrival on earth. King Ghidorah had a fearful reputation across the cosmos by civilizations, similar to that of Darkseid and Thanos.
-Both Thor and Rodan once fought each other in the past when Rodan at some point appeared in Scandinavia and terrorized the people, which prompted the Thunder God to engage. It was a long, withdrawn, and lengthy battle that eventually ended with Thor finally driving Rodan off. Like many legends and myths, this fight inspired one of those about Thor fighting a "Great Bird of Fire".
-Shazam was the first Sorcerer Supreme and taught the Ancient One magic.
-Wonder Woman and the original Shazam took part in imprisoning Ammit alongside the other Egyptian Gods and Goddesses.
-The radiation of Hollow Earth caused certain viruses and organisms to become more hostile when infecting their host while granting them various abilities. Examples include the T-Virus and the E-Series mold.
-Both Asgard and Mount Olympus are aware of Aaravos and his past crimes.
-The Ancient One visited both Xadia and the 4 nations once to learn more about both world's magic. The Ancient One also helped in imprisoning Aaravos.
-While Xadia is aware of dark magic, they are unaware of the Dark Dimension and Dormammu.
-King Ghidorah was without a doubt probably the only being that Darkseid and Thanos had ever developed a grudging respect. Both warlords are aware of King Ghidorah due to being just as feared by civilizations across the cosmos as they are. Despite classing Titans as "low-level" gods, the Council of Godheads also feared King Ghidorah due to his destructive nature.
-The Necrosword is made of the same metallic material used by the Exorcist Angels during their exterminations.
-Wonder Woman's presence in World War I inspired Johann Schmidt (aka Red Skull) to pursue mythology in hopes of creating weaponry for HYDRA.
-Captain America and Wonder Woman met during World War II when Steve was doing his USO Show.
-SHIELD is aware of Monarch and STAR Labs and has often collaborated with each other in the past.
-Packard is a relative of Nick Fury.
-Asgard and Krypton having had a history with one another and the former having tried to warn the latter of their inevitable doom, but were dismissed.
-Prior to Krypton's destruction. Zod and his soldiers had a run-in with Yondu and the Ravagers.
-Both SHIELD and Nick Fury were not only aware of the Titan's existence but also aware of Superman's arrival on Earth and kept close tabs on him since he was a child.
-Both Superman and Chris Redfield were Captain America fans when younger.
-After the T-Virus Incident in Raccoon City, SHIELD and Monarch helped with the clean-up.
-Bruce Wayne, William Stenz, Amanda Waller, and Chris Redfield were all targets of Project Insight.
-Alongside SHIELD, STAR Labs, B.S.A.A., and Monarch were all infiltrated by HYDRA Agents who sought their resources. They stole various technological weapons created by the Motherbox, samples of the T-Virus, and stole Titan DNA to create Titan clones.
-After the Turtles made their debut, SHIELD and Monarch kept close eye on them based on their mutation.
-After the Civil War, Amanda Waller proposed Task Force X to the government, in which Theaddeus Ross was among those who approved it while William Stenz opposed it. Abomination and Baron Zemo were among the possible candidates for Task Force X.
-Task Force X and Monarch weren't affected by the Sokovia Accords due to their connections with the government.
-After the Baker House Incident, SHIELD and Monarch not only helped clean up the situation but also got clues on the E-Series's origin. Not trusting the B.S.A.A. or Blue Umbrella, they gave the info to Chris, which led to his isolation from both organizations.
-Talokan would be considered one of the Kingdoms of Atlantis. Ocean Master would later try to recruit Namor, but decides not to as he was warned by the other rulers that Namor is more dangerous than Ocean Master himself.
-Karathen is revealed to be one of the lost Titans of Earth.
-Wakanda is aware of the existence of Atlantis but their ancestors have made a treaty with each other in not interfering. After the events of Aquaman, both T'Challa and Arthur meet in secret to discuss how to unite their kingdoms together and reveal their secret to the world. While Arthur respects T'Challa, he wants to keep Atlantis a secret until the time is right.
-Katolis would be aware of various magical humans such as Original Shazam and the Ancient One.
-Clark Kent/Superman, Diana Prince/Wonder Woman, Billy Batson/Shazam, and Mothra are beings capable of lifting Mjolnir.
-At the Senate hearing, alongside Serizawa, Nick Fury and Calvin Swanwick (Martian Manhunter) are among those who defended the Titans while Thaddeus Ross and Amanda Waller voiced against them.
-After the Titans were released, several Titans, such as Titanus Sehkmet, Behemoth, and Mokele-Mbembe all resided near Wakanda and all bonded with T'Challa/Black Panther while Titans such as Titanus Na Kika, Tiamat, and Amhuluk all resided near Talokan and bond with Namor.
-By the end of Infinity War and during the events of Endgame. Superman, Batman, Wonder Woman, Lois Lane, Martian Manhunter, Joker, Lex Luthor, Black Mask, Victor Zsasz, Black Canary, Renee Montoya, Huntress, Cassandra Cain, Bruce the Hyena, Bloodsport, Harley Quinn, Rick Flagg, King Shark, Ratcatcher 2 and Sebastian, Polka-Dot Man, Captain Boomerang, Savant, Javelin, Blackguard, Mongal, T.D.K., Weasel, Thinker, Billy Batson/Shazam, Billy's foster parents and siblings, Amanda Waller, Emilia Harcourt, John Economos, Adebayo Waller, Clemson Murn/Ik Nobe Llok, Goff/Sophie Song/Eek Stack Ik Ik, Casper Locke, Larry Fitzgibbon, James Gordon, Atlanna, Mera, Arthur Jr., Starro, Peacemaker, White Dragon, Hawkman, Doctor Fate, Cyclone, Atom Smasher, Adrianna Tomaz, Karim, Amon Tomaz, Ishmael GregoSabbac, Blue Beetle and the Reyes family, Victoria and Jenny Kord, Carapax, Madison Russell, Mark Russell, Illene Chen, Houston Brooks, Sam Coleman, Nathan Lind, Illene Andrews, Jia, Josh Valentine, Bernie Hayes, Travis Beasley/Trapper, Walter and Maia Simmons, Ren Serizawa, Alan Jonah, Godzilla, Kong, half of the known titans, Leon Kennedy, Chris Redfield, Claire Redfield, Ethan Winters, Mia Winters, Zoe Baker, Joe Baker, Mother Miranda, Karl Heisenberg, Lady Dimitrescu, Salvatore Moreau, Donna Beneviento, The Duke, Chris's Team, the Turtles, and Baxter Stockman would be amongst the survivors of The Blip.
-Flash, Cyborg, Aquaman, Perry White, Martha Kent, Stephen Shin, Deadshot, Deathstroke, Katana, Killer Croc, Ling Chen, Rick Stanton, Diane Foster, Jackson Barnes, Anthony Martinez, Lauren Griffin, Rodan, other half of the known titans, Jill Valentine, Ada Wong, Sensei Splinter, Bebop, and Rocksteady were amongst the victims of The Blip.
-Similar to Scott Lang, Black Adam, Mothra, Khaji-Da, and the inhabitants of the 4 nations, Xadia, Heaven, and Hell would not be affected by the Blip.
-The only beings that sensed the Blip were the Avatar (Aang), The Archdragons of Xadia (Zubeia, Rex Igneous, Domina Profundis, and Sol Regem), the Seraphim (Sera and Emily), the Goetian Hierarchy (Stolas and Octavia), and the 7 Deadly Sins (Lucifer Morningstar, Asmodeus, Satan, Mammon, Beelzebub, Leviathan, and Belphegor).
-The victims of the Blip weren't sent to Heaven or Hell, they were stuck in Limbo.
-During the post-Blip, due to Thanos' actions, Godzilla had a hard time in trying to keep balance of the Earth with half of the remaining titans running loose. Due to the world powers struggling, they helped fund Apex Cybernetics to stabilize their economy as well as unknowingly helping Walter process with his Mechagodzilla experiment.
-Because of Thanos, the Corto Maltese government took advantage of this by continuing their experiments with Project Starfish and the Intergang were able to operate and have full control over Kahndaq. Many crime organizations in Gotham have either been dismantled due to the disappearance of the leaders or have been absorbed into the Black Mask Crime Organization. Jaime's family and his community go through financial struggles from Kord Industries due to the effects of the Blip.
-Due to less hero activity, the I.M.P.s operated their assassination business.
-Kingpin met with Joker and Black Mask during the Blip where the 2 made mutual agreements in developing a partnership. However, this agreement was broken due to Black Mask's death.
-The Joker was on Ronan's list of targets. However, due to his powerful influence, he was forced to back down.
-Due to the effects of the Blip, the butterflies decided to start their invasion by infecting powerful humans.
-After the Village's destruction, SHIELD aids Chris in a war against B.S.A.A.
-After Doctor Fate's death, Hawkman gives the Helmet of Fate to Kamar-Taj for safekeeping so it doesn't fall into the wrong hands.
-The Avengers and Justice League team up and join the time heist to find the Infinity Stones. With Iron Man's and Batman's technology, they create a black and red infinity gauntlet. Hulk still snaps his fingers which brings every living being back. During the final battle with Thanos, the Justice Society, Black Adam, Godzilla, and the other Titans arrive to join in the fight.
-Victoria Kord and Walter Simmons are among the many people who also had a hatred towards Tony Stark and are joyful about his death.
-After the events of Blue Beetle, Damage Control tried to apprehend him but was forced to back down due to public support.
-Godzilla would grow hostile towards the Hex that Wanda made. Due to being composed of cosmic radiation from the celestial, Godzilla and the other Titans are revealed to be immune to magic due to their massive size as well as not being affected by the Hex's effects. However, once Wanda leaves Westview, Godzilla will leave as well.
-After Endgame, Apex Cybernetics not only seeks to eliminate Titans but also superpowered individuals as well. After the events of GvK, Damage Control cleaned up the damage and acquired their resources.
-Among the deceased that would be in Heaven based on Adam's rule: "Act selfless, Don't Steal, and Stick it to the man" would be Tony Stark/Iron Man, Natasha Romanoff/Black Widow, Peggy Carter, Ancient One, Ben Parker, May Parker, Pietro Maximoff/Quicksilver, Phil Coulson, Steve Trevor, Jonathan Kent, Chato Santana/El Diablo, Silas Stone, Rick Flag, Alberto Reyes, José Morales, Ignacio Carapax/OMAC, and Nuidis Vulko.
-Among the deceased that would be in Hell and have the potential to become Overlords are Obadiah Stane/Iron Monger, Ivan Vanko/Whiplash, TrevoThe Mandarin, Alexander Pierce, Dreykov, Xu Wenwu, Quentin Beck/Mysterio, Roman Sionis/Black Mask, Victor Zsaasz, David Kane/Black Manta, and Walter Simmons.
-Wanting to reconnect with his daughter, Mark Russell resigns his position as leader of Monarch and Bruce BanneHulk becomes the next head of Monarch due to his knowledge of Nuclear Physics.
-Both the Great Protector and Dweller-in-Darkness are revealed to be Titans who stumbled upon Ta Lo.
-In Xadia, Viren was resurrected 5 years later rather than 2 (Events of S1-3 take place in 2019-and S4-6 take place in 2024).
-Due to the effects of the Emergence and the Deviants, Godzilla would ally with the Eternals in hunting down and killing the Deviants as well as stopping the Emergence from happening.
-The Benevolent Titans have gained a reputation due to their involvement in keeping the planet safe and healthy.
-Driven by vengeance, Overlord Quentin Beck/Mysterio pays the I.M.P.s to assassinate Peter ParkeSpider-Man. However, this is during the events of No Way Home and when Doctor Strange performs the spell that erases everyone's memory of who Spider-Man is, the I.M.P.s were affected as well and called the mission off due to their amnesia.
-Maya Lopez's/Echo's Powers awaken the ancient Thunderbird Titan that lives near her hometown. She successfully bonds with the Titan.
-Ms. Marvel would not only be a Captain Marvel fan but also a Wonder Woman and Mothra fan as well.
-Riri Williams is a huge fan of both Iron Man and Cyborg which influenced her to create her own enhanced suits. While she has an intense hatred towards Apex Cybernetics after their dirty secrets were exposed, Riri started making concepts on how to build a giant-mech suit to combat hostile Titans.
-Thor recruits Wonder Woman and the Shazam family to help them stop Gorr the God Butcher. They arrive at Omnipotence City where Wonder Woman exposes the Greek Gods being the Roman counterparts with Zeus' real identity revealed to be Jupiter. After the mission, Thor gives Shazam the Thunderbolt.
-Wonder Woman then encounters Marc SpecteMoon Knight where she sees and speaks with Khonshu.
-When Doctor Strange and America Chavez arrive on Earth-838, they meet the Illuminati which not only consists of Captain Carter, Blackbolt, Captain Marvel (Maria Rambeau), and Mister Fantastic but also consists of Christian Bale's Batman and Brandon Routh's Superman.
-Same with Wakanda, the U.N. held a conference on whether the Titans should be contained or killed. Director Fontaine would state that the Titan's radiation helps balance the ecosystem of the planet and propose a solution where they can imprison the Titans and drain this energy they embody to help sustain the ecosystem, thus having them alive, but tortured.
-After Shuri takes the heart-shaped herb and becomes the next Black Panther, she communicates with Sehkmet, Behemoth, and Mokele-Mbembe for the first time. She convinces them to take part in the battle against Namor by battling against Na Kika, Tiamat, and Amhuluk.
-After the battle, Wakanda becomes harmonious with their Titans as they are welcomed in Wakanda and become its protectors alongside Shuri.
-After the alliance with Talokan, Aquaman visits Shuri on the same beach where she meets her nephew, T'Challa II, and warns her about her deal with Namor. Then he introduces his son, Arthur Jr., where he and T'Challa II develop a brotherly bond with each other.
-Due to the Secret Invasion, Superman was affected by the Anti-Alien Act and was forced into hiding.
-During the events of Secret Invasion, the Turtles were forced into hiding due to being confused for Skrulls.
-After the events of The Flash, Doctor Strange and Clea confront him that his actions in altering time created more incursions and recruit him to have them fixed.
-After the events of the Marvels, Monica Rambeau not only meets Binary and Beast but also meets Michael Keaton's Batman and Sasha Calle's Supergirl.
-After the events of Lost Kingdom, Atlantis revealed its existence to the world by joining alliances with the UN and Wakanda.
-Ms. Marvel's Quantum Bands and Shang-Chi's Ten Rings start behaving weirdly as they detect a signal from deep within Hollow Earth, signifying a war cry from ancient Titans known as the Skar King and Shimo.
-As Namor is preparing for the war against the surface by aligning themselves with Wakanda, he commands the Titans he bonded to gain strength. However, one of the Titans, Tiamat, is killed by Godzilla, and Namor is saddened when hearing the news.
-Ms. Marvel's Quantum Bands attracts the attention of Mothra, who believes that Mothra may be the key to bringing back Monica Rambaeu.
-The Avatar's (Aang) awakening was sensed by Doctor Strange.
Overall, this is my take on how this shared world would go. If you have any suggestions on how the shared world would go, feel free to reply!
Special thanks to MichaeltheSpikester for the idea!

Let’s make it aware that there is a job offer scam that lies and take you to Scam Factories and you become a slave, and you may even die. Post here all cases of Disappearance of people who may be associated with this type of scam.

Know The Signs! Have you been trafficked? * Did you apply for the job via Social Media (e.g. Facebook, Instagram), WhatsApp, Telegram or an online platform? * Did you have an online interview? * Have you been promised a job with a company in Thailand? * Were you promised a lucrative salary? * Did you receive a letter of confirmation for your new role? * Did you investigate the company you applied to and are they registered? * Do you have an agent or consultant handling details for you?
How to prevent yourself or someone you know from being trafficked * Never give anyone your passport! * Research the company you are applying to join. For example, check their website, search for them on social media and LinkedIn, check the legal registration of the company. * Ask for references (face to face or virtual) from current employees. * Ensure you received an official letter of offer and check the email addresses match the companies contact information. * Research the visa requirements for working in a foreign country. * Notify your countries Immigration Office of your intention to travel or contact your countries Embassy once you arrive at your destination. * If you are about to cross a river in north-west Thailand don’t, it is likely you are being trafficked into Myanmar.
Could this be your situation? If you or someone you know has been trapped in forced criminality, contact your nearest embassy or email the Global Alms Counter Trafficking Unit at admin@globalalms.com with the details.

This is a post for awareness. Let’s help each other. Only serious comments.
Below are more links to other related posts.
https://edition.cnn.com/interactive/2023/12/asia/chinese-scam-operations-american-victims-intl-hnk-dst/
http://chinascope.org/archives/32233
https://youtu.be/m6qFCdHvYuI?si=rs2J71V1XIeFF7we
https://www.reddit.com/Thailand/s/L8OTm9Lvye
https://www.globalalms.com/protection
(My account created recently for privacy/scam concerns)

Hi All, long time lurker, just wrote up a post but somehow it vanished while typing. I used the search and the sub knowledge base but didn't see my question. Looking for some guidance/advice or a success story.
I recently went to a Veterans Center to see if I was eligible for counseling. While there, I shared some traumatic experiences over my 30 year Army Reserve career. The Advisor encouraged me to file a claim for PTSD/Anxiety/Depression.
I retired from the Army Reserve in 2013. In 2008, I was promoted and, that summer, received orders for a 6 week qualification course for my new position. When I returned to my civilian job, my supervisor and manager retaliated in every way possible, making the workplace and life a living hell. My primary care doc knew what was going on and prescribed antidepressants and anti-anxiety meds just so I could get through the workday and not harm anyone or myself. In Jan 2010, my supervisor and manager did something that caused me to have a total stress breakdown. My doctor took me out of work and referred me to the outpatient psych clinic. I was in a really bad way and remained out of work and taking meds and getting treatment for almost 2 years. I won't bore you with all the details, but I was pissed that I burned all my vacation and sick accruals for something they could have prevented. I filed a worker's comp claim which my employer challenged and I won. The judge wrote in the decision, "There is disparate treatment... because she serves in the Army Reserves...She was singled out and harassed due to her military service... her supervisor retaliated against her because she took military leave in 2008... (she) was exposed to a pattern of harassment and retaliation due to her Army Reserves service and an increased level of stress..."
I have a load of civilian medical records related to this, and I believe the psychotherapist (PhD) that I saw for 3+ years would write a nexus letter for me but according to everything I've read, I'm not sure I have a "nexus" to connect PTSD to the military. I was IN the military, and what happened at my job was because I was fulfilling my military obligation, but can I actually make a "service connection" if the stressor occurred at the hands of my civilian employer and not actually the Army? How might that read?
I had stress in my military position-- I lost a deployment opportunity and my records landed in front of a retention board and they were going to chapter me out because of my psych profile, causing me to fear I'd lose my Army career and pension. I was stressed out all the time worrying that I'd be asked to do any additional or special duty outside of drill weekends (my position required a lot of travel) due to fear of how my civilian employer would react or retaliate if I presented orders. When confidentiality was broken and my psych profile/issues were revealed to Soldiers not in my reporting chain, that led to a lot of embarrassment probably other things I'm forgetting.
Is there any hope I might be able to make a nexus-worthy connection between my service and my PTSD/Anxiety/Depression diagnoses when the stressor(s) actually primarily occurred in the civilian workplace?
Thank you!

I first started noticing that something was wrong around 3 months ago. At the time, I was working from home and would usually light a scented candle while I worked, which usually helped me relax and stay focused on my work. I would usually burn through a candle a week, but over time, the candles started to take less time to fully burn up. At first, I thought that this was because of a change in ingredients the company that made the candles used, but the problem persisted after I switched candle brands, which I once again blamed on the candle manufacturers.
I kept this belief for another week until the first incident. While getting up from my computer desk, which faces away from the candle, to take a quick bathroom break, I caught a glimpse of the lit candle. A two-inch layer of molten wax rested on another three-inch layer of solid wax, the wicks rising out at first and being somewhat visible through the molten layer, finally breaking the surface and being slowly burned away. The flames flickered as I swung the door open and walked out of the room. When I returned 10 minutes later, the molten layer was gone, and the wicks had been shortened so that the flames rested right above the solid layer of the wax. At first, I thought that the glass jar that contained the candle was leaking, but after a short inspection, I was only able to find two small drops of candle wax that had solidified right next to the candle on the bedside table. I still had 2 hours of work left to do, but I was too lost in thought and was unable to do any work for the rest of the day.
Every night before I go to sleep, I like to read for at least 30 minutes, and while reading, I usually light a candle. Around 4 days later, I had mostly forgotten about the incident and went back to using candles. Due to my naivety, it returned.
I fell asleep while reading with a candle lit on my bedside table. I woke up to loud slurping noises. As I opened my eyes, the brightness of the light I had not turned off almost blinded me. As my eyes tried to readjust to the light and focus on what was in front of me, I saw a somewhat humanoid dark gray to light blue blur that contrasted with the white paint on the walls behind it. Another gray line stretched from the shape's head to the candle on my bedside table. I could feel my heart skip five consecutive beats. I opened my mouth and tried to force out a scream for help, but the pressure I applied to my throat was way beyond what it was able to handle, leading me to only produce a light wheezing sound. I tried to sit up or to at least prop myself up, but my muscles failed me. Trying to push myself up with my arms felt impossible. As I stared at the figure that had suddenly appeared in my room, my eyes finally managed to focus, making it possible for me to see the intruder who was now staring at me. The figure was a man at least 7 feet tall, fully naked; he looked bloated; his eyes were bloodshot and looked like they would pop out of their sockets; at any point, his skin was a grayish light blue.
HIS LIPS
His lips extended from his mouth like an elephant's trunk, which had been split in half. The lips extended from the man's face to the candle; the flames had been put out. He was using his lips as a makeshift straw, slowly sucking up all the molten wax from the candle, which had fully liquified while I was asleep. I laid in bed, unable to move, unable to scream for help, staring until he emptied the jar. His lips retracted back to his face, the molten wax solidifying on their tips and cracking, flakes of wax falling off the man's lips and falling to the floor. The man grinned, staring at me. The ridges and gaps between the teeth were filled in with wax, making it impossible to make out where one tooth ended and the next one began. The man opened the door he was standing next to, but instead of walking out of the room, he stepped behind it. His face peered at me from above the door, and then once again, like he had done to drink the wax, the man puckered his lips, which stretched from his mouth and floated to me. I shook and tried to roll over away from him. I wanted to get up and run, but my fear had taken over my body. Tears flowed from my eyes. He kissed me on the cheek, leaving flakes of wax and light moisture. He retracted his lips and lowered his head behind the door.
I don't remember falling asleep, but when I woke up, I saw the empty glass jar, which at one point contained the candle. Even though I had hoped that what had happened was a dream, it wasn't. I still had flakes of wax on my cheek, and on my bedroom floor, the wax in the jar had disappeared. I called the police, but they were unable to find anyone in my apartment; they also could not find any evidence of a break-in.
After the break-in, I started looking for a new apartment to move to, thinking that the man was tied to the building I was in, but even though I had thrown out all of my candles, I could not stomach spending another hour in my apartment, constantly looking over my shoulder or walking around with my back pressed up against the wall to not allow it to creep up on me. Thankfully, my friend Emma was able to let me stay over at her apartment while I looked for a new one for myself.
Me and Emma have been friends since we were 8, and we've been there to support each other when times get rough. This isn’t the first time I've had to stay over at her house for an extended amount of time; in fact, I have had to stay over at Emma’s as many times as she has had to stay over at my apartment, whether it was because of evictions after losing a job, breakups, or a candle wax drinking squatter. I didn't even know if it was human. I mean, sure, it looked like one, but human lips are not supposed to do what his did, and somehow it didn't have a reaction to molten wax being poured down its esophagus. I didn't tell Emma about what happened—the details at least—I just told her that a man had broken into my house and was watching me sleep. The only people I told the truth to were my therapist and the cops, and all of them disregarded what I told them as my mind making things up after a traumatic event.
For a while, I believed what they said—I mean, why wouldn’t I?—but then I started seeing him again. For a few days, I thought it was my mind playing tricks on me again like it had done during the night of the incident. For split seconds out of the corner of my eye, I would see the outline of a tall, bloated figure. At first, they were hours apart, but after a while, it became constant. He was standing in each room I passed, in every single dark corner I glanced past, and then he spoke.
“FeeD MeEeee”
It stood in the kitchen, peering over from a small gap between the fridge and the sink, where the trash can that had been knocked over onto its side usually stood. His voice was raspy, and every word that came out of his mouth was distorted as if he were gargling water, but still, I could somehow clearly make out each word he said from over 15 feet away.
“Please just leave me alone I… why are you following me?”
I shouted at the figure, the same fear that had taken over my body during the night I saw him for the first time paralyzing me, making it impossible for me to move anything other than my eyes, eyelids, and mouth.
“i’M sTarviNg, I nEEd You To FeEd ME”
It replied again. Now, stepping out from behind the fridge, he stepped directly onto a rotten banana. Its mushy brown content’s seeping out of the peel under the pressure of his decomposing foot, which was covered in scabs, and took up the same grayish light blue color as the rest of his body. He mostly looked the same; his bloodshot eyes bulged from their sockets, but now his tongue was swollen. It peeked out from between his bloated, cracked gray lips; it stared at me, waiting for an answer.
“Ok, I’ll.. I’ll feed you, but please just... leave me alone.”
I replied, the tone of my voice shifting into high-pitched squeals with every quick breath I took. He looked satisfied by my response. He somehow squeezed his bloated body back into the gap that was at least four times smaller than him. After peering over at me from above the fridge, he bent over backwards, his spine releasing a series of sickening cracks until he was fully obscured by the fridge, and then he vanished.
Still barely in control of my body, I limped over to the couch tucked away in the back corner of the living room, it took me at least 10 minutes to steady my breathing and 20 more to fully regain control of my body again but as soon as I did I ran out the house and to the nearest store, during the 15-minute walk he stared at me through dark windows and the backs of cars, peered out at me from gaps between leaves in the trees and bushes, he even followed me into the store staring at me from the middle of deserted isles before disappearing right before my eyes were able to fully catch him, once I finally got the candles I randomly picked four off of the shelves and rushed to the self checkout.
When I arrived home, I had 2 hours before Emma got off work. I didn't want to feed it while she was home, and I didn't want her to see it. I pulled out two of the candles from the black plastic bag and placed them on the kitchen table, the first a light blue candle named “Garden Rain” and the second a red candle named “Juicy Watermelon." I pulled out a lighter from one of the drawers Emma used after her stove stopped lighting on its own and lit each of the 6 wicks on the candles. As soon as I started seeing the wax melt under the heat of the burning wicks, I dropped the lighter onto the table next to the candles and ran out of the room. I could not stomach seeing that thing again; even just thinking about it made me shudder and hyperventilate. The paralyzing fear that seeing him caused me made me want to vomit.
At least 30 minutes later I started to hear it drink even though the living room and kitchen were separated by a wall, even though I had closed the door I could still hear what at first started as slurping sounds which were followed up by loud gulps, then it stopped, and once again 30 minutes later it started drinking, as the slurping started once again I heard the door to the apartment crack open, it was Emma, as she stepped through the door I saw her carrying two large brown paper bags of groceries in her hands, she was headed to the kitchen.
“Hey let me grab those for you”
I said running over to her, my voice shaking.
“Oh, thanks. Are you… okay, you look scared?”
My eyes shot wide open in a mixture of fear and surprise. I said the first thing that came to mind.
“Yeah just umm… I didn't expect you to come home so early and I got a bit spooked”
“shit sorry, I know I should have called you, work let me off early today,”
I started to turn away from her walking to the kitchen.
Trying to keep her away from the kitchen I told her to wait for me in the living room because I wanted to talk to her about something. I didn't know what I would talk to her about but that was a problem for future me to resolve, somehow it worked.
“What's that sound?”
She called out to me while walking towards the living room couch. It took me a few seconds to come up with an excuse.
“I think it’s the sink, or the pipes at least”
I opened the door to the kitchen with my eyes closed at first hesitant to look knowing what would be greeting me. slowly prying my eyes open I started to see its outline, my muscles started to lose strength as the details of the man came into my view, I felt the grocery bags start to slip from my arms, my knees buckled, face first I fell onto the kitchen floor scattering the groceries all over the floor, I mixture of a light scream and a yelp escaped from my mouth as my body made contact with the floor, Emma concerned for my safety ran into the kitchen, she didn't scream, using all of the strength and mobility I had left in my muscles I rolled over expecting to see her face drenched in terror, her body frozen still unable to move just like my body had done the first time that I saw him, but Emma looked concerned, the man was gone, she crouched down beside me.
“Oh my god are you ok? What happened?”
I looked around observing my surroundings.
“I um… I… I tripped on the little thing at the bottom of the doorframe”
I finally managed to blurt out another excuse, not being able to remember what the name of a door sill was. I started to sit up using a part of the energy that had returned to my body, pain pulsed through my chest and arms, Emma looked at me with a concerned face.
“You've been acting really weird since I got home, are you sure you're ok?”
“Yeah… I think I’m just having one of those days you know”
The confusion on Emma’s face said that she didn’t know and to be honest I didn't either, I guess my luck of pulling random excuses out of my ass ran out, Emma thought that she triggered some sort of PTSD response after barging into the house unannounced at first apologizing then trying to change the subject to stop my trembling which I was still unsuccessfully trying to hide from her.
“Did you buy candles?”
Emma asked picking the groceries apart from the garbage that spilled out the can that the man had knocked over, placing them on the table next to the now half-empty glass jars, the flames flickered above the inch or so of molten wax the man was unable to finish drinking.
“Yeah I’ve been struggling with work lately, they usually help me focus”
“Huh Interesting combination you’ve got going on here”
She looked at me and smiled slightly, I smiled back and chuckled to seem normal.
“Yeah even I don't know what I was trying to accomplish here, to be honest”
I tried to help Emma clean up the spilled groceries but she did not let me, she told me that I needed to recover like I had been in a car crash instead of having taken a little tumble. After a few seconds of silence, Emma spoke again.
“Anyway, what did you want to talk to me about earlier?”
A quick jolt of stress shot through my body, in a jumbled mess of lies and fear I had forgotten what I had told Emma, I sat there in silence for a few seconds unable to come up with an excuse
“I…umm… I don’t remember, it wasn't anything serious though”
“Damn did you hit your head too?”
She said once again proudly smiling at her joke.
At this point Emma picked up the last bag of potato chips from the floor and placed it on the table, then she opened the fridge and started loading the groceries into it.
“Anyway I gotta go get back to work’’
I blurted out after a few more seconds of awkward silence.
“Alright well good luck”
I walked over into the living room and sat down in front of my workstation, which now consisted of a laptop sitting on a small foldable TV tray that had just barely enough room left on it to fit a small USB mouse.
The last thing I remember, before I fell asleep, was me mindlessly scrolling through apartment listings while Emma watched a random 90’s horror movie I’m positive only had a budget of $500.
I woke up with a light stinging pain shooting through my dry throat, and a dim hissing sound caused by thousands of water drops striking the ground outside filled the room. I pressed the spacebar on my laptop, the brightness of the screen blinding me temporarily, after taking a few seconds to let my eyes readjust I managed to make out the time, 3:45 AM. A strong smell I was unable to make out the origin of assaulted my nostrils. Lavender.
The smell hitting my nose had the same effect on me that I would expect smelling salts would have on a weightlifter right before they set a world record. Before I knew it my legs were moving on their own at an almost uncontrollable pace, fighting back against my mind which was telling them to slow down after years of being used to navigating both mine and Emma’s apartment as steadily as possible to not bother the neighbors.
Finally, after what felt like an eternity I stood before Emma’s bedroom door, a faint, yellow, pulsating light radiated from a lamp and snuck out of a small gap between the door and the doorframe, reluctantly I pushed my left hand up against the door, my right hand grasping onto the door frame for a sense of stability, once the door was fully agape I scanned the inside of the room my heart skipping a beat for every humanoid shadow cast up onto the wall by the lights from the wicks which were set ablaze and were being slowly burnt away.
I walked into Emma’s room and made my way over to her bedside table to put out the candle, as I stepped closer towards her, her face became more defined, I could finally make out her features, she was awake, but no she could not have been, even though her eyes were wide open they never blinked, she didn't even move slightly, as I moved closer I finally managed to fully make out the expression of pure terror on her face, her mouth wide agape as if she was about to release a deafening screach, but she could not have, a single drop of solidified wax dribbled out of the corner of her mouth and clung to her cheek, my eyes traced the cream colored path back towards her mouth, first up her cheek then between the corner of her mouth and finally behind her teeth, there instead of her tongue or the roof of her mouth I saw a wall of wax which had filled in the entirety of her mouth.
I fell to my knees and hunched forward supporting my body weight with my arms, I was too late, I resisted the urge to vomit and got back up onto my feet, a mixture of tears and snot slid down my face and onto my lips, shaking now I slowly started limping over towards my phone which I had left on the couch next to where I had awoken just minutes before, just minutes before my life was destroyed because of my lies if I had just told Emma what I had gone through, if I had just told her what had happened on the night of the incident which now seemed trivial, even if she thought that I was crazy, I know that she would have complied just to make me feel comfortable.
It took me at least 30 seconds of repeated attempts to stabilize my hands enough to properly dial 911. “Someone broke into my apartment and hurt my friend” was the only reasonable explanation I could come up with that would not get the operator to hang up on me thinking that this was a prank call.
I sat there in the living room for an agonizing 10 minutes, crying, my sadness slowly transformed into anger towards myself, and my mind raced thinking of all the lies I’d told, I kept thinking that if I had just told her the truth she would not have been laying there in her bed, her body bloated, “every single orifice has signs of forced penetration and has been filled with what seems to be candle wax” is what was written on her autopsy report.
For a few days I was the main suspect in Emma’s murder, but due to the almost unstoppable crying and the unresponsive state that I was in when the police arrived, mixed with the lack of evidence of me having a way to produce 30 pounds of candle wax led to me being released out of police custody, but because I was the main suspect I was not told any details about what had fully happened to Emma, for days all I had to work off of was the image of her face frozen in terror, and a short glance I caught of her bloated body as she was being carted out on a stretcher.
I recounted every single word of our last conversations over and over again until they became permanently etched into my brain.
Emma’s parents originally wanted to cremate her, as that is what she had somewhat jokingly asked for whenever the topic of funerals came up, well she had joked about wanting to have had unpopped popcorn shoved down her throat before she was sent off to “scare the shit out of the guy cremating me” but due to all the wax which would have been impossible to get out of her body they were forced to bury her.
A few days before Emma’s funeral her body disappeared.
After Emma’s death, her parents took me into their home, after reading the autopsy reports and seeing her corpse they had thrown out every single candle they owned which made their home the safest choice I had, still, this did not stop me from buying a machete and keeping it under my bed, just in case.
I was laying on the bed in their guest bedroom The day that the police informed Emma’s parents about her disappearance, the bedroom is right above the front porch of the house, at first I heard them ring the doorbell which was followed up by 3 powerful knocks on the door, for about a minute I laid there on the bed listening to muffled voices exchanging distorted words I was barely able to make out which slowly transformed into distorted weeps, curious I lifted myself up from the bed, made my way over to the window and carefully lifted the bottom panel making Shure to not make too much noise, the distorted muffled sounds started forming into coherent words “We checked the security footage but the only strange thing we could see was a 5 second time jump” one of the officers spoke in a serious and almost monotone voice “which meant that the security guard who was the only person in the building had to climb down 2 flights of stairs walk through a 40 foot long hallway and then drag her body back up stairs and out of the building in 5 seconds” Emma’s mom let out yelp “ but don’t worry ma'am that’s actually good news because we know that her corpse is still somewhere within the building and was probably brought to the wrong floor by an intern, we’ve already warned all of the staff at the hospital to keep an eye out, and we also sent 5 officers to search the hospital”
I could not believe what I was hearing, my breathing quickened, but this time instead of fear I felt anger, that fucker stole her corpse and was probably in the weird separate plane of existence he always went back to after terrorizing me, cutting off chunks of her body, melting her, and drinking her.
I closed the window Emma’s mom's cries once again turned into a muffled rumble which was only possible to make out if you knew what to look for, I took a few steps back away from the window planning to lay back down, not wanting to bother Emma’s parents. I bumped into something, not something, someone, its fleshy towering form as solid as a wall sent me tumbling forward, I knew it was him, he had returned to take me too, to stretch his swollen cracked lips, push them down my esophagus, fill my lungs and stomach with wax. But despite all of that this time I was not scared, I was angry, and I was not going to stand there in terror like I had the last time I saw him.
I fell forward onto my knees my face missing the window sill just by mere inches, I put my hands onto the floor, lifted one of my knees, and rotated 180 degrees now facing the monster, to the right of him pushed up against the wall was the bed, light from the sun reflected off of the metallic button which kept my machete in it’s sheathe, the man started to stretch his lips, they were moving towards me, waving a wiggling through the air like a snake slithering towards me.
I dove towards the bed one of my feet pushing off of the floor and the other pushing against the wall which creaked under the pressure applied to it, I flew for a few moments before slamming down onto the carpet and sliding forward, the heat generated by my skin brushing against the carpet released a sharp stinging pain throughout my body, my outstretched arm landed just a few inches short of the machete, I quickly bent my arms, pushing my body up and crawled towards the machete. my fingers wrapped around the handle I spun around, my back pushed up against the bedside table, once again facing the man, he was still facing the window but his lips faced me and were just a few feet away from me, for what felt like minutes but was most likely no longer than a second, I struggled to hook my finger under the strap securing the machete into its sheath, as the lips inched towards me the man started producing gurgling noises, he was regurgitation wax.
I finally pulled the machete out of its sheath, I swung the blade at the man's lips, the blade was not met with any resistance as it sliced through the man’s lips which landed on the carpeted floor with an audible thud, the man did not have a physical reaction to my counter-attack, his lips kept creeping towards me, once again I slashed at the lips, still no reaction, I repeated this at least 3 more times.
I wanted to kill him, I wanted to take revenge for what he had done to Emma, but fighting back was pointless. I realized that no matter how much I tried to hurt it, I could not kill him, I could not get rid of him.
My rage dissipated and a mixture of fear and sadness crept in, and soon took over my body, I screamed for help, I screamed in fear, in agony, tears streamed down my face as the man's lips finally reached my face, he wasn’t met with any resistance as his lips snuck between mine, pried my jaw open and finally started to slide down my esophagus.
I heard the cops run up the stairs, they started banging on the door asking if I was okay only to have been met with muffled screams, hot wax started to pour down inside of me, the stinging pain of the heat made me want to plunge the machete which I had dropped onto the ground next to me into my stomach to create a gaping wound that the wax would hopefully funnel out of, the texture of the man's slippery, oily lips matched with the poison like flavor of the wax caused me to start gagging, I felt my insides bulging like at any moment my intestines would have been filled to the point where they would pop, I wanted to vomit, the drain myself of the filth I was filled with, but his lips had plugged my throat not allowing anything to get out.
Hearing my muffled screams the cops started kicking the door down, the man retracted his lips, the suction aided my attempts at cleansing my insides, I got onto my hands and knees streams of molten wax pouring out of me, solidifying on the the carpet, with another loud thud the door swung open slamming into the wall, the man was gone.
That’s the last thing I remember before I passed out, but according to one of the doctors who was in the ambulance that brought me to the hospital, I was still semi-responsive during the first 10 minutes of the ride to the hospital.
Approximately 13.4 pounds of wax were removed from my body, the doctors said that I was in a critical condition and some of them did not expect me to make it.
One of the officers who was there the day the man attacked me took a report of what had happened to me, due to the unmistakable evidence of what had happened to both me and Emma, and the fact that this was the 3rd instance of me reporting something like this the police finally started investigating who this man might have been.
Around a month later I was discharged from the hospital and once again have been staying in the living room of Emma’s parent's house.
I’ve been seeing the man again, candles were not allowed in the hospital I stayed at, which means that he’s probably very hungry, he’s close to attacking me again, I know it, he wants to finish what he started and I don't know if I have the power to fight back, I’m not sure if defeating him is even possible, I’m tired.
I’ve been seeing Emma too, her bloated, reanimated corpse often appears to be standing next to the man. If I let him take me will I get to join them? I’ve tried asking but they don’t answer, they just stare, I can’t keep living in constant fear, always looking over my shoulder, I miss Emma.

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Suzanne thought it was absolutely brilliant of me to put books on a flash drive for Sun. She explained that Sun wasn’t as sophant (her word, not mine) as she might seem, more of a repository of information, but she was fairly intelligent. It was how she was able to connect Andrew being in pain to the fact that I was friends with Andrew, and that I would want to know that he was in trouble. Apparently some of Sun’s species had given some ‘wisdom’ to others in the past and it had made its way into mythology.
The key fact was that she was not smart enough to protect herself and her kind from the clever, organized poachers. With that information in mind, it was fascinating for me to think of how Sun took in and organized what she learned. It was almost as if she was a walking, talking library.
On the topic of tours, my first one went wonderfully, and I’m almost hoping Suzanne lets me do more of them. I know not all the tourists are going to be as awesome as these people were, but Suzanne gave me a lot of slack when it comes to dealing with them. She actually said that being a smartass is not grounds for dismissal, and that if I’m sarcastic or facetious to guests who are being ‘daft’ and they complain, she really doesn’t care. Is this the perfect job for me or what?
There were four guests in this party, two adults who were sisters and two children of one of the women, brothers aged thirteen and seventeen. The tour was a birthday gift for the older of the boys from his aunt, since apparently he was passionate about animal protection and conservation.
When they arrived at the front gate, I was sitting at Andrew’s desk, going over the booklet of information one last time. When the visitors pressed the button that sounded the alert buzzer, I tucked away in a drawer and let them in. I did have a cheat sheet with information about the animals on my phone just in case, a brief notation of each of them and which enclosure they were in, but I really didn’t need to use it.
Exiting through the front door, I saw them walk up the path toward me. “Hi, I’m Ripley,” I said, holding out a hand toward the woman closest to me.
She shook it firmly. “I’m Denise. This is my sister Carla and my nephews, Wesley and Jason,” she said, motioning to each of them in turn.
“I heard it’s your birthday,” I said to Wesley, giving him a smile. “You’re interested in animal conversation?”
“Back where we live, yeah,” he said, nodding. “The animals that you’ve got here are incredible. I can’t wait to see them.”
“Well, I can’t wait to show them to you,” I said. “Right this way.”
I led them on the path around the building, toward enclosure one. Despite the horrific memories of the animal killing Stanley’s friends, I knew it was just an animal, and I had to push past my feelings on what had happened. Keeping a small smile on my face, I motioned to the enclosure. “Fiercely territorial and amazing hunters, despite their large size, they’re arboreal and known to dart from tree to tree with barely a sound. This is one of only about two thousand left in existence.”
“Two thousand, three hundred and fifty six at last count,” spoke Wesley, his eyes on the trees.
I blinked, surprised and impressed. “Well that was fantastic. Do you plan on stealing my job when you graduate?”
Wesley looked at me with a grin. “Nah, everyone knows Suzanne only offers humans this gig. And I want to help animals like this one get off the endangered species list. The zoos are great for awareness and fundraising, but then the money has to go somewhere. I want to be doing the real work.”
“That’s really great,” I told him. “I wish you all the best in that career path.” At that, we saw the animal climb down from the tree, wandering a few yards from the tree line. This was because 90% of the time, when humans were at their enclosure and making noise, whether it was speaking to each other or calling out to the animal, it was someone bringing them prey to eat. Or, in my case, enrichment toys to play with.
“Whoa,” Wesley whispered.
“How close can we get?” spoke up Jason.
“The warding starts at the fence,” I told him with a small gesture. “So, just there.”
Both boys wandered closer and I glanced at their parents. It seemed that Suzanne’s zoo had a serious reputation for high quality invisible walls, because they didn’t look worried in the slightest about the boys being hurt or killed.
“They prefer dense forest as their home and have been known to make their nests in trees up to twenty meter in the air,” I continued. “And when hunting, they’ve been seen dropping eight meters straight down. They have incredibly dense yet flexible musculature, which allows them to tackle their prey without injuring themselves.”
There was more information about the animal that I continued to rattle off, though Wesley chimed in at certain points with the info I was about to convey. That was highly entertaining and very cool. When I’d been in school, I’d never met anyone who had my level of passion about endangered animals. I wondered if things were better where these folks came from, but realized that considering there were so few of these animals left, I guessed not.
The animal paced a little bit, seemingly waiting to see if we were the kind of humans that came bearing food, before deciding we weren’t and climbing back up into the trees as easily as I would climb some stairs.
As we moved onto enclosure two, Jason spoke up. “Are there any animals here we can touch or feed or something?”
I sighed inwardly before slowing to a stop. “Well, can you show me your hands?” Jason looked bemused, holding out his hands. “I mean…they both look like they’re in great shape. You can stand to lose one.”
The two women chuckled and Wesley smirked as Jason shoved his hands into his pockets. “Very funny.”
Grinning, I started walking again. “The animals here are all carnivores and all predators. You get to see them, but that’s it.”
“Alright.”
When we reached enclosure two, I started on my next spiel. “We’ve got three reanimated dead in this enclosure,” I spoke. They were just coming out from the trees as we arrived, presumably having heard our approach. “Marissa, Connor, and Bradley. They were donated by families who knew where they would be exhibited. Their next of kin, whoever they are, can’t stand the idea of putting them down. But we need to make sure they don’t have access to corpses, because one of them plus one corpse equals two of them.”
“They eat flesh though, don’t they?” Wesley asked.
I nodded. “Oh, yeah, but it’s from bodies that have already been dismembered. There’s no chance of them being affected by the transformation because it’s all parts.”
“Oh, got it.”
The creatures with blueish-white skin had superhuman strength, which is why they qualified for the security of Suzanne’s zoo. They also were likely the source of any Earth tales of people being brought back to life as zombies, specifically draugr, according to my research. They smelled like rotting flesh, so even as I kept talking about them and giving a background to the people they used to be, we were quick to move on once Wesley had gotten a good, long look at them.
“Enclosure four’s animal is a vampiric spirit. He’s a small, hairy humanoid creature with pointed ears. He wears a hat, and if he somehow loses it, he freaks out,” I said.
“They eat horses,” Wesley noted. “Also anything that gives them the chance to sit on it, usually catching them by surprise while they’re sleeping.”
The creature came out from the brush, giving us a suspicious look. He wasn’t in his humanoid form though; for some reason, he’d chosen to shapeshift to a dog.
I nodded. “Yep, indeed. Once the prey is dead, then he’ll eat it, and he has a voracious appetite. We have two wolves and two bears in the forest, which is one of the reasons I’ve got some self-defense items,” I said, patting my belt where my pepper spray (rated for bear) and my taser. “But the wards keep them out of this area of the zoo, so it’s really not much of a worry. It’s also a known shapeshifter, preferring the form of a dog, as you can see, as well as a cat, a snake, or even white butterflies, though the last one is rare.”
“The white butterflies are supposed to be a sign of good luck,” Wesley said, glancing to me. “Too bad we got the dog.”
“Yeah, otherwise you might be able to talk your mom into getting scratch-offs on your way home, huh?”
Wesley smirked at me.
The next enclosure was Spike, and he was waiting for us, dripping wet from having just emerged from the lake. I gave the introductory information about him, which included his propensity for eating animal eyes, nails, and teeth. “Recently, I’ve given him some enrichment activities, and I learned he likes artichokes, pecans, and hazelnuts,” I said, taking a bag out from my cargo shorts. “Wesley, do you want to toss this bag into the enclosure?”
The boy’s eyes widened and he nodded excitedly. He took a look into the paper bag before wrapping down the top to make sure nothing would fly out. Then he chucked it underhand past the fence. It landed a few yards from Spike, who waddled over to it quickly and tearing the bag open, spilling out the prizes inside. As the animal ate the pecans and hazelnuts, Wesley asked, “How’d you figure out he likes those?”
“It’s not all about taste,” I told him. “It’s mainly the difficulty of getting them out of the shells. He’s used to having to work for the parts of his prey he likes the most, so this mimics that activity, and he enjoys the process. I tried a bunch of different foods to find a few he liked.”
“Cool,” Wesley murmured, staring at him.
We watched Spike eat until he’d finished and then he went back into the woods, leaving us to move onto enclosure five. Japanese camellia were plentiful here, a type of pink flower, and that was because they grew anywhere near one of his species made their den. “This girl spends most of her time in the lake also,” I said, as the creature made its way toward the fence separating us from it. “But as you can see, she’s just as curious as the rest about what we’re doing here and whether we have food for her. She eats fish mostly, but she also regularly gets live prey.”
This creature was a spider-like monster, having six legs with long claws on each, and the head of an ox with two sharp horns. She was capable of shapeshifting to look like a human, but I guessed that she wasn’t fond of it, since I hadn’t yet seen her in that form.
“She prefers the easy way of catching prey, so to speak, by hiding in the lake and pouncing when something comes for a drink of water,” I explained. “Apparently humans are some of her favorite prey. She has an advantage of being able to spit poison, which often hits her prey in the eyes. But it’s usually used in defense rather than offense, since it secretes a limited amount.”
“What kind of animal would even go after something like this?” Jason asked, staring at her.
“Never discount one of its own species when you’re thinking about what might attack an animal,” I replied. “There are places that are breeding all of the animals here, but competition for mates is common. That means an advantage in a fight, like poison or venom, can make or break who the winner is.”
“Ah, gotcha.”
“It can’t spit past the warding, right?” Carla suddenly asked.
“Oh, no,” I assured her. “We’re fine. The wards wouldn’t let anything cross over.” She nodded, appeased.
The animal in enclosure six was the ginormous seal-hippo, Fiona, and she was looking at us as if she was imagining sprinkling us with herbs and spices and stuffing us in an oven. “This girl is one animal I’m going to work on enrichment activities for next,” I told them. “She prefers to feed on crayfish, though she’s happy to eat any humans that wander into her territory. She’ll even make a sound like a baby crying to reel us in. I’ve heard it a bunch of times.”
“Can you get her to make the sound?” Jason asked, perking up.
I grinned. “Not on command, sorry.”
“What enrichment are you thinking of trying?” Wesley asked.
“Possibly food placed in puzzle feeders,” I told him, “since she has claws that are pretty dexterous. Maybe a piñata made out of newspaper with flour inside, or a scarecrow that mimics a human.”
“Awesome,” he muttered.
After a little more educational tidbits, we moved onto Yui’s enclosure. “What is that?” Wesley asked, smiling.
“I got Yui the closest thing I could to a ping-pong ball,” I replied. “She quite likes it.”
“That’s so funny,” he said as she came out of the trees in her spider form. “I mean, the idea of her being a bloodthirsty hunter who seduces men to their deaths and eats them alive, but then on the other hand, she likes playing with something like this.”
“It is a little funny,” I agreed. “But when it comes down to it, all the animals here enjoy activities besides hunting.”
“She can shapeshift to look human, right?” asked Jason, trying to be casual about knowing something factual like his nerdy brother.
I nodded. “She looks like a woman from a region of Earth called Japan. And she’ll use strategies like holding out a hand to shake to get you closer. She tried that on me when I first got here but, as you can see,” I said, holding up my hands and waving them, “I didn’t fall for it.”
The boys both laughed as they got closer to the fence, watching her slowly pace near the trees.
Next was Sun, but she didn’t make an appearance as I spoke about her species. “Well…unfortunately we can’t guarantee that every animal comes out to say hi,” I sighed. “But…oh wait, here she is.”
The green lion with several horns and many eyes along her flank came out from the forest. “Hello,” she spoke.
“Hi, Sun,” I replied. “We have visitors.”
“What’s that?” Wesley asked suddenly, pointing at the small plastic bag that was still where I’d left it.
“Oh! That is Sun’s enrichment,” I said with a smile. “I put dozens of books on a flash drive and found that she can read them just like she’d read a shelf of books.”
Wesley’s eyes widened. “Wow. I don’t think I’ve read about anyone trying that before. That’s really cool.”
“The books are new and interesting,” Sun spoke, drawing our attention. “I’m grateful for them.”
I nodded to her. “You’re quite welcome.”
The next animal, unfortunately, wasn’t there, and we waited around for ten minutes as we discussed him. He was large and reptile-like with red eyes, with its hind legs and tail making him look vaguely like a kangaroo. Then, enclosure ten was a terrifyingly disturbing creature, the not-a-centaur with no skin, that I’d only seen a few times while walking my route. It gave a good demonstration of its ferocity, showing its sharp teeth and snapping at us a few times.
“I’m thinking of trying salt licks and other horse enrichment like a big bouncy ball,” I told Wesley, whose eyebrows went up at that. “Maybe give him more things to forage like scattered grains or a box filled with pinecones and seeds. Foraging is a huge part of a horse’s life in the wild, and humans have to do a lot of activities like that to keep pet horses busy. Of course, he also loves the little salt-water lake that was built for him.”
We spent some time looking at the animal before moving past our last stop, the empty enclosure of the animal was stolen. Carla glanced at me with a sad smile, knowing what had happened, it seemed. I gave her a nod as we continued on our way, walking into the office. “So, I hope everyone enjoyed themselves!” I said with a smile.
“That was the coolest birthday present I’ve ever gotten,” Wesley said, looking to Denise. “Thanks so much, seriously.”
“It was my pleasure,” she said with a nod. “I’d never been here before, and knew I’d find it fascinating. Thank you for the educational aspect,” Denise said, glancing at me. “I learned quite a lot.”
“Happy to hear it,” I said, returning the nod.
As I escorted the guests out of the zoo and locked the door behind them, I reflected on how much I’d changed. The first time I’d seen Yui’s tarantula form, I’d nearly passed out from fear. Now here I was, walking tourists around like it was no big deal. Humans really can adapt to anything, it seems.
That afternoon, Suzanne had texted me that she was coming by after my shift, and I met her in Andrew’s office, shutting the door to the security room behind me. “How’s Andrew?” I asked first thing.
“He’s doing well,” she said with a wide smile. “Back on non-hospital food. He’s allowed to order food on his phone, and to hear it from him, that’s the best news he’d received in a long time.”
I chuckled. “I guess some clichés are true for a reason.”
“Indeed.” She took a breath. “All right. Ripley…I would like to discuss something with you.”
My face went slack at the serious tone in her voice. “I’m not… Am I being fired?”
“What? No!” she exclaimed. Then she chuckled softly. “No, it’s nothing like that. Just, here, let’s have a seat.” Suzanne walked over to the couch and sat at one end, and I took the other. “There’s something I need to tell you. Something I’ve kept from you, that I wanted to keep from you until you found your sea legs here.”
“Well…I have,” I said with a nod. “So, what is it?”
Suzanne took a breath. “I knew your mother.”
The words hung in the air for a moment before making their way to my ears. It was a perfectly logical sentence, and yet it didn’t make any sense. “What?” I finally managed.
“When you graduated college, I decided to move the zoo from Italy to within driving distance of your home,” she said softly. “Near enough to your town that you’d see the advert. We ignored any other applicants and I hoped you’d apply. Actually, I expected you’d apply. Not just for the money, but considering the field you wanted to go into. As soon as I’d found out your major, I knew.”
“Wait, wait, wait,” I said, holding up a hand. I pinched the bridge of my nose. “How do you know Patricia?”
“She owned the zoo before I did,” Susan explained. “Fourteen years ago…she was working to track an injured animal that we could bring into the zoo and she was killed by poachers.”
My heart calcified in my chest and a lump lodged in my throat. As my breaths became shaky, I stared at her in shock. “She…she’s really dead?”
“You suspected?” she asked softly.
“It…” I swallowed hard. “We had her declared legally dead after…I don’t know, seven years I think. My dad wanted to go after her for child support, but the police said…they said they couldn’t find…” Tears came to my eyes and I blinked them back before I met Suzanne’s gaze. “She owned the zoo?”
Suzanne nodded. “It was her baby, you’d say. When Patricia passed, I inherited it, which we’d discussed beforehand, a legal just-in-case that I never expected her to need. I’m under the impression that you were told she went to Africa for her photography career, but she was in fact going to remote areas back in my home world almost every time.”
“But I-I saw the photos,” I said, my eyes narrowing. “You’re telling me she put on a show of getting pictures that someone else took for us to see every time she visited? Did my dad even know?”
“I suppose that’s an accurate way to put it, putting on a show. And no, your father was never told. It’s not the way of things to tell humans unless it’s necessary. I won’t bore you with the details, but us and humans, we’re distant relatives, so we can still have children. But it wasn’t planned. Your mother fell in love with your father despite herself; she hadn’t meant to find love. Then she became pregnant with you and…well, the rest is history.”
“I think she had a different definition of love than the one I have,” I said tightly. “You’d think she’d have put her survival as more of a priority. Put being with the man she ‘loved’ as a priority. Her kids needed her. I needed her. She signed up when she became a mom. She could’ve screwed up all the time but she couldn’t even manage that one job: be there. When I was in the hospital, I kept thinking, ‘Where is she?’ and now you’re telling me that she put these animals above being there for her kids, and this whole time she’s been dead.”
“The hospital?” she asked, furrowing her brows.
“Never mind,” I said tersely, averting my gaze.
Suzanne hesitated before she nodded slowly. “I’m sorry for your loss, and not just for her death, Ripley,” she told me. “Patricia was…well, a ‘free spirit’ would be putting it gently. She always assumed the world would be there for her whenever she needed it.”
Staring at her for a long moment, I shook my head. “Why? Why come here and hire me?”
“I thought that would be obvious,” she said, smiling. “Your mother was so passionate about this place and once I found out your college major, I figured you would be as well.”
“Did you know that I hate her?” At that, Suzanne’s expression froze on the edge of shock. “She…she left us,” I whispered. “Didn’t tell us who she was or what she really did for a living and gave us no closure. And even when she was here, it was just visiting. Her real home was her work. She could give me all the presents she wanted, but even when she was here, half the time she was still on her computer doing work. It’s not like that stereotype of never making it to my tennis practice or something; it’s that it always felt like she was only partially here, even when I was sitting next to her. I don’t even know if I appreciate her turning me into a wildlife fanatic because it…it…makes me feel like I’m close to her in a way that’s just infuriating. She loved the animals more than she loved us.”
“Oh, Ripley-”
“Don’t,” I said, shoving myself to my feet. “Don’t try to convince me otherwise.”
“I wasn’t going to,” she said quietly. I pursed my lips. “I was going to say that I’m sorry that was the case. Your mother was…flawed, just like any other person. She had two loves in this world: her family and her work. And often, her work overcame her, her zeal for environmentalism getting in the way of being a good mum. She left your father trying to fill the role of two parents, holding your family together. You and your brother and your father, you all deserved better than that.”
My lower lip quivered but I bit down on it hard. It would’ve been a lot easier for me if she’d been speaking from a place of clueless reassurance about all this. But everything she said was making sense and that meant I didn’t have someone in front of me to be angry with.
“Why didn’t you tell me when Andrew hired me?” I sighed, sitting back down on the couch.
“Well, like I said, I wanted you to find your sea legs,” she said with a small smile. “I didn’t want the truth affecting whether or not you wanted to work here, whether you wanted to stay here after finding out about what the animals are. It would’ve complicated things, the emotions you’ll have to work through now that you know the truth. Whether or not you decide to give another tour, you also know what they’re like. That’s the benchmark I wanted you to reach before you found out about who you are.”
I narrowed my eyes. “Who I-” My face went slack. “Wait.”
Suzanne nodded slowly. “You’re only half human. Your brother too.”
The room seemed to tilt on an axis for a moment. “That means I’m also half…what?”
“We call ourselves Eldritch, these days,” she replied.
My eyes bugged out. “What?” I exclaimed. “So you’re all, like, gods or something?”
Suzanne burst out laughing. “Oh no, goodness, no,” she chuckled. “It’s just a word. We live in a very different world from this one, and a few generations ago we discovered the word and it made its way into our lexicon. But it does mean you can see all the animals. Indeed you did, on the tour you gave.”
“Wait, no, I had the glasses that…” I stopped. “Did those glasses do anything?”
She gave a sly smile and shook her head. “Not a thing. You made incredibly quick progress, and then when it came time for the tour, all you needed was to expect to see the animals, and you did.”
Genetics. That’s what Andrew had said during our interview, that part of how many animals you could see was determined by genetics. I guess having a mother who was originally from the other dimension gave me all the genes I needed to see everything here. “Could I…visit your world?” I asked tentatively. “You said that my mom took photos of the animals there. Could I…” My voice trailed off, not even sure if or how I wanted to finish that sentence.
“Those who are half human, especially those who are raised on Earth, don’t come visit,” she said gently. “I could show you some photos of other animals, and I could loan you as many books as you’d like, but it’s simply not a place where you’d be safe.”
“Oh,” I said, leaning into the couch cushion as I pictured the animals in the zoo. “Yeah, actually that…makes sense.” I paused. “So, what now?”
“It’s up to you,” she said. “I wanted to wait until I was sure you were comfortable with your position here, and then put the ball in your court. And so it is. What do you want to do now?”
What did I want to do? It wasn’t that difficult a question, just a deep, serious one.
I wanted to thrive, as the animals did. This is my enrichment now, working at an incredible, wonderful, terrifying zoo. The experience so far hasn’t been perfect, and I know there are risks, but life isn’t about staying safe. It’s about learning new things and making a difference in the world. And, if you’re lucky, having a job that’s something really special.
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THE END
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Guys I can’t believe I watched most of Gypsy and Nick’s interrogation for the first time. I don’t know how I got through her’s, but both were quite interesting and telling. They were NIGHT AND DAY differences in Gypsy’s understanding and intelligence and Nick’s.
I’m just going off of memory so correct me or jump in and add details to discuss:
Gypsy: 1) They gave her a comfy sofa, pillow/stuffed animal, blanket. She was super polite to the officers and kept saying “thank you sir.” She made random small talk with them about movies and shows she was interested in. Idk how girlie kept it together knowing her mom was DEAD. I truly believe she felt her superficial charm and southern politeness would get her out of there and she’d “get it over with/behind them.” (something Nick said in his interrogation about her.) 2) At one point she says how people look at her in handcuffs and says, “I didn’t kill nobody, I don’t smoke, do drugs, drink. I didn’t do nothing! I’m a good girl.” Which seems like a normal sentence, but the way she said it you could tell she was trying to convey that SHE didn’t belong. She’s worried about how she appears to others. 3) She lies a LOT starting with her age. 4) She keeps saying she doesn’t know why she’s there 5) Once the detective says the mom is dead, she puts on a performance of shock and feigns concern. She is like omg did she have a heart attack? She has health issues. Omg don’t tell me it was suicide!!! She had bipolar disorder. Girl, WHAT?! 6) She doesn’t give up any information until the officer mentions Nick and he knows Nick did it. He still pushes her to answer “why.” She finally is like “he didn’t get along with my mom.” She didn’t let them be together, and “that’s why Nick hated her.” (Noting: no mention of abuse. She basically says it was to be with Nick, which Nick also says in his reason why.) 7) I skipped a lot and saw how she listens under the door. 8) the detective gives her MANY chances to come clean and basically in the end he says she might face murder charges and girly pop is SHOOK. He tells her he knows she pulled the strings and she is soooo offended and keeps denying. She cries some more and yells out “I want a lawyer, sir!” 9) At some point she claims Nick raped her and “how she hopes he can get the help he needs.” 9) They give her time to put her boots on and take her away in handcuffs.
Nick: 1) He hasn’t slept in however many hours they were detained. He said he was worried about Gypsy the whole time meanwhile his princess is taking naps on a comfy couch. I don’t know how long they had them there, but he’s handcuffed and has a desk and a chair. That’s about it. 2) They do both get the same food, but Nick didn’t eat it since he ate something before and he was worried sick about Gypsy. The way Nick starts describing it was my first hint that he may be a bit more “different” (intellectually) than Gypsy. He says something like “They’re called ham sandwiches. Sometimes they make those with Mayo.” 3) He doesn’t know what coercion means. He says it’s punishment and the female detective says “yes, like trickery“ while reading him his Miranda rights. He clearly should’ve had a lawyer present during this. 4) He gives the clean version of events that she was kicked out of her home and they ran away together. 5) The detective clearly knows this guy loves her more than she loves him. She says “Gypsy told us everything and you’re not saying it. I know you love Gypsy but don’t put her in that difficult position.” So this is when Nick goes into detail about everything, at least his version of events. He talks about the events leading up to, during, and after. He says many times he loves her so much he did this for her and there’s no one else he’d do this for. 6) Basically Nick tells this detective everything, or in MUCH more detail, likely closer to the truth than Gypsy’s version. They take pictures like they did with Gypsy. What stuck with me is how this man can accurately remember numbers over everything else. He remembered his hotel room number, which I don’t think most people remember after checking out. His story consistently stays with 4 stabs and neck slash. 7) Towards the end, the detective leaves and he’s muttering to himself a lot. I skipped over much of it since it was repetitive, but it’s very sad and he’s clearly worried about Gypsy. At one point he questions to himself besides being honorable, where will the truth get him. 8) At the end of the video, he’s taken away in handcuffs barefoot. He asks to see Gypsy one more time.
My opinion: At first I was happy she was being released and getting a second chance at life. I didn’t know much about the case so I looked at her interviews. I soon felt like things were off with Gypsy, I just couldn’t put my finger on it. My bullshit radar went off when I finally heard her say she didn’t identify as a murderer and she pinned everything on Nick. Looking at the interrogation tapes, it’s my opinion that he struggles with something developmentally. His parents said he was diagnosed with autism in grade school. It disturbs me how he didn’t want to murder, but Gypsy talked him into it multiple times. I fully believe he was done dirty in the interrogation and outcome of the case. He did seem to tell much of the truth during his interrogation. Gypsy’s interrogation was lie after lie until she realized it wasn’t going to work with the detective who interviewed her. He knew and you could tell he was getting increasingly frustrated at her trying to manipulate and detail the conversation. If you haven’t, please go watch the videos. Let me know your thoughts.

I was evicted by my own parents on Christmas Eve via texting war with my step day during a 10hr shift as a barber. I was informed my youngest daughter (6) wouldn’t be returning from her fathers house for Christmas that same day. My oldest daughter (16) and I were casted out of our family’s traditional Christmas festivities and we spent Christmas Eve and Day alone. The day after she went to “lunch” with my ex mother in law and never came home. I was devastated which caused a pain flare up (fybromiaga/myofacial pain syndrome/stage 4 endometriosis, degenerative disc disease). I couldn’t get out of bed. I had to call off. I was fired on January 3rd. On January 6th I was pulled over and arrested because the passenger of my vehicle had put 3GS of crack in an old prescription bottle of mine she stole from my house earlier that day. January 8th my phone was turned off. On the 10th my car broke down and I just got it back yesterday morning.
While my phone was off I missed every call and message sent to me by Child Services. I missed every opportunity to defend myself against the lies and accusations made by my ex. My mom had started forwarding my mail to the post office without my knowledge. I received not 1 certified letter. I missed my first 2 court dates.
I spent almost a month alone in the house I was abused in as a child/teen. The house I shared with my daughters, no car, no phone, no money, and eventually no food.
In a span of two weeks, I lost my kids, my family, my house, my job, my phone, my car, and was arrested.
I’ve never been in trouble in my life. Always had full custody of all three of my children find the age of 17. and for the most part without any involvement of their fathers outside of the weekends. But I lost all of it. My ex had manipulated my family in believing complete lies about me. Smear campaigns surround me every day. Every morning I wake up and realize where I am, and how far away from my children I am and I lose it. I cry every time I open my eyes. It’s been months. And every day it hurts more. Because I can’t afford a lawyer, there’s a very good chance I won’t get them back.
My son (22) lives in a different state but calls almost daily bc he knows he is the one that is keeping me here. But if I lose custody of my youngest daughter, like I did my oldest, there’s no way I can continue living like this, feeling this much pain, physically and emotionally every single day. My little one. I cry all day every day. She was my sidekick . We went everywhere together. She was right by my side since the day she was born, She is my best buddy and they ripped her away from me. Without a single conversation. Not one. My exes, vindictive, hateful actions can only possibly be fueled by his desire to not go to jail for the $15,000 he owes in back child support. Up until a week before this, he was still trying to come back home. Still making advances on me. Leading me to believe that we were friends. But now I know it was all part of the plan. He had been plotting for months. Because my family operates in such negativity towards me they happily took the bait. I will never speak to any of them again. And the only reason why I haven’t been able to get my children back is because he dismantled my life by ensuring that I couldn’t afford a lawyer. Nothing in the report was true. It was all lies based on hearsay. So I’m here to warn you… no matter how good of a mother you are, if someone is determined to take everything away from you, they will. All I have left to do is pray to whatever God will listen to me. A lawyer shows up at my doorstep, expecting zero payment, and they fight to bring the truth to light. for me. Otherwise this is all going to end soon for me. I just can’t handle the sadness. I haven’t seen my daughter since December 20, 2020 23. I never gone more than two days without her before that. my heart aches more at the thought of her being alone without her mother than it does for myself. My teenager is not trapped with her abusive narcissistic, father. Being treated like dog shit. Unable to speak to me or her brother. All my family invites that monster and his mistress to Easter and breaks bread with them. It’s all so twisted. I just want this nightmare to end.
Thank you for allowing me to vent.

So I recently tried to enter the US at Houston airport and got pulled into secondary for entering and staying in the US too much and using it as a home base for travel and basically residing here.
I’m often visiting my partner who is doing a (fully funded) research PhD and she is a Canadian on a F-1 student visa.
I work remote while I’m in the US (which I realize is against the rules).
However: since my partner started school in August, I don’t believe I’ve been in the US all that much. Here’s a full rundown:
Arrived August 9, 2023. Exited August 12, 2023. Arrived August 12, 2023. Exited August August 16, 2023. Arrived August 16, 2023. Exited August 23, 2023. Arrived September 6, 2023. Exited September 14, 2023. Arrived and departed October 14, 2023. Arrived November 27, 2023. Departed December 15, 2023. Arrived December 18, 2023. Departed January 4, 2024. Arrived February 5, 2024. Departed February 23, 2024. Arrived February 26, 2024. Departed March 3, 2024. Arrived March 31, 2024. Departed April 2, 2024. Arrived May 6, 2024. Departed May 14, 2024. Arrived May 17, 2024.
On my most recent arrival, I was pulled into secondary after failing to present a return flight ticket and the officer generally saying I’m using the US as a home base because I keep leaving for only a few days and then returning.
In secondary, the first thing I was told was that I was being denied entry and would be banned for 5 years. After explanation – I’m here visiting my partner a lot and they’re a Canadian – and I work remote which I admit is illegal on B-2. There was a lot of questions about my job and I do hold a full-time remote job at a Canadian company.
He also asked me what I think about how powerful China is (I’m a naturalized Canadian citizen) and my opinion on BRICS and US being in debt to China. He told me he considers himself an American and America is the most powerful country in the world.
He also asked if I’m carrying illicit substances in my backpack (no suitcase). I said no. I also live with my parents when I’m in Canada so no ties I guess (I’m realistically a digital nomad)
Without looking at any documentation regarding my job or anything else and without searching my backpack, he told me he would grant me entry for 2 weeks and I am not to return for the rest of the year. (For the record, his attitude was extremely hostile the entire time)
—— I realize that I was in the wrong and the US is allowed to deny entry to anyone for any reason.
I do have a few follow-up questions if anyone can help.

1. I have a flight transiting the US in August and would connect for a few hours. Is that now off the table?
   
2. My partner is willing and wants to legally marry so I can enter as F-2. As a Canadian, I don’t interview for an F-2 and instead show up at the crossing with the I-20 and enter. Would it be unwise to try this before end of year?
   
3. If I try to enter the US next year, will I be pulled into secondary and be pulled into secondary for the rest of my life? I often book connecting flights in the US (to and from Canada) because of price.
   
4. Can anyone shed some light on the situation? CBP said I’m residing here 50% of the time (which isn’t true based on my enter and exit dates) and trying to illegally work. But I enter and exit so often, what job would let me take so much time off?
   

Edit to add: the agent specifically said “I don’t care that you work remote. You’re basically living here.”
Thank you if you made it this far and thank you for reading.

Today I sat down and sent out letters to the media about how the independent monitor who is overseeing the APD's consent decree has announced that they have met all the requirements, and he is recommending that Albuquerque police be released from further review. A judge will decide if that is the case in early June.
The issue that I have with that??? The Albuquerque Police Department TOPS the nationwide list per capita for officer involved shootings. Population wise they killed more people last year than any other US law enforcement agency, and their rate of shootings has gone UP rather than down over the past decade.
APD is also currently being investigated by the FBI for the DWI scandal, which involves numerous corrupt officers not showing up to court (assumingly in exchange for bribes) over many years... offenses which were not uncovered by the committee put in charge of policing the police, nor the department supervisors.
These things do not suggest that APD is now REFORMED and can be trusted with handling investigations of their own department internally. If anything, it makes it clear that whatever oversight they have been receiving isn't working. Not only do they need the federal oversight to continue, they need someone else put in charge of monitoring their department... obviously anybody who thinks that the APD is currently 'all good' doesn't have very good judgement.
So here is the letter that I have been sending out to local news agencies and government officials. I encourage everyone to research this situation themselves and write their own letters or make phone calls voicing their concerns about the APD being released from federal oversight even though they are literally the countries #1 killer cops and their department is steeped in misconduct.
"I'm writing you today because I simply can not believe that the independent monitor that is overseeing the DOJ order for Federal oversight over APD has recommended that it come to an end because they have supposedly met their goals... The statistics say otherwise.
Albuquerque police top the nationwide list of officer involved shootings per capita - looking solely at population, they killed more people in 2023 than any other US city! Their rate of shootings has gone up over time rather than down, and the increase isn't comparable to a growth in population.
They also have an unreasonably high death rate of incarcerated people, an enormous number of unconvicted people being held for low level offenses while violent repeat offenders are left roaming the streets, and a disproportionate number of arrests of POC that reveal a department wide racial bias.
Albuquerque has an atrocious level of crime for a city this size, and APD has a horrible response time with many people across the city complaining that they NEVER SHOW UP AT ALL to 911 calls for assistance. When they do show up they are incredibly likely to murder people who are unarmed, experiencing a mental health crisis, acting out due to being under the influence of substances, or just because they are Black/Hispanic/Native.
The department has a high number of complaints against officers where nearly none are found in favor of the civilian victims upon internal review - it's an unusually low number in comparison to other places. There are numerous instances over the past decade when they have lacked transparency regarding misconduct, refusing to release the names of officers involved or hold them accountable for their actions. These things alone should be reason enough for them to continue being monitored... proof that they haven't improved enough to be released from review.
But the Albuquerque police are also literally in the middle of a FBI investigation due to the DWI scandal. That's a great big red flag! Why wasn't this independent oversight committee able to spot that multiple officers weren't showing up to court hundreds of times over many years, with all the cases connected to the same attorney? Instead it took a citizen doing their own investigation to break open the corruption, and it required the media covering the story to make sure that this controversy wasn't buried. If the monitors couldn't catch this misconduct and abuse of power, what else is going on in the department that has either not yet been revealed or is being purposely hidden?
None of this sounds like "REFORMED" to me - if this is how the APD behaves while under the microscope, what will they do when they have independent power over their own misconduct again? How can this monitor group see all of this happening yet still recommend that the consent decree end? They are responsible for overseeing a police department that is currently at the TOP of the list for police killings and one that is engulfed in a conspiracy involving many officers, yet they are giving the APD 'the all clear'? Make it make sense!
I'd like to see more news stories pointing out all the reasons why the consent decree shouldn't stop and how they need a new monitor instead - the current one didn't fulfill his promises and hasn't been able to bring the APD into REAL compliance. We citizens obviously cannot bring our complaints directly to the APD or the oversight committee and expect transparency or action, so the burden falls on to the local news agencies to investigate this topic and release their findings to the community.
I've recently seen some news articles that were critical of the head monitor Mr. James Ginger, saying that his office isn't accessible to the public, he's usually out of state, he's been paid many millions of dollars and wasn't able to get the job done in the amount of time that he originally stated.
So it seems suspicious that almost immediately after news agencies investigated his role and uncovered some pretty disparaging stuff about his job performance he suddenly declares the department to be in compliance of the consent decree and announces that his oversight role will end.
Is there a connection? Is he giving them a passing grade after years of putting in the minimum amount of work just so he can write down a win on his resume? Is James Ginger attempting to back out of his responsibility over this police department by painting them as "cured" when they obviously aren't?
Please talk about this issue more, the public really needs to see the facts about APD that suggest that they shouldn't be released from DOJ oversight. It's especially important that some articles about this get published before a judge reviews this claim of the department being in compliance and possibly signs off on it at the beginning of June. We cannot allow the nation's top killer cops, a department chock full of misconduct, to be responsible for policing themselves!
I would love to see the mayor, city council, or some concerned citizens petition the court for a continuation of the consent decree with a new independent monitor in charge, as well as an investigation into the current monitors' performance and reason for declaring the APD in compliance when it's obvious that they have not improved enough to be released from oversight.
But that isn't likely to happen without the media pointing out the facts about APD's performance and reiterating the failures of Mr. Ginger over the past decade. We've got to put some pressure on city officials to do the right thing and stop the APD from being given free reign over their own affairs again... literal lives are at stake."
Thanks for taking the time to read all of that! I really hope that we as a community can prevent this from happening and finally bring some meaningful and much needed change to our police department.

I say "apparently" because... well... you'll see.
This happened decades ago now, back in primary school. I only remembered it because I was recently catching up with old friends from back then, and we got to laughing over old stories and then someone mentioned, "The wildest was when you organised that whole protest against our teacher."
"The time I did what?"
The consensus was I did, indeed, organise the entire class to rebel against our teacher that resulted in her being deposed and our class getting a "substitute" for the rest of the year. I almost fell out of my chair hearing this story from their mouths. It wasn't that I didn't remember it, of course I did--that year was awful. It was just that it existed very differently in my memory.
Two important pieces of background knowledge to understand here:

1. I went to a very very small, very very rural school. How small? Each classroom was composed of the entire year level, and the largest had at most 30 kids in them. My class/year level was on the smallest in the entire school, with a piddling 14 kids in it altogether. While we still had our cliques and factions, our small size caused our class to be very tight knit and protective of each other. How rural? The school building itself was incredibly small, but one thing we were not short on was gigantic empty fields surrounding us on all sides. Great for sports, great for (it turns out) student protests.
2. I was, at the time, undiagnosed autistic. I mean I still am autistic, I'm just formally diagnosed now. But back then I was just seen as being a very quirky kid. One of the ways this quirkiness manifested was that I really had trouble adapting to the rules and structure of grade school and how it differed from what I was used to. At home if I wanted to pee, I just went to the toilet. Now I have to put my hand up? Now I have to ask permission to piss? Then I went home and put my hand up to ask my mom for permission to pee and she told me I didn't need to! Madness! Chaos! I don't care what the rules are, please just be consistent!

But one of the main parts of my brain and the way it works is that sometimes my brain, separate from my will, would just make a decision about a course of action and I would very calmly commit to it come hell or high water. Like, it is vitally important that I stay true to this course of action. I can't explain it. It's like I set a rule for myself and if something disrupts that, I just shut down and stop functioning.
So when the school said, "Okay, when this bell rings during recess/lunch, that means you have to leave the playground and go back to class", I was a confused child already struggling with all these completely nonsensical limitations and guidelines imposed on me. So when that bell rang, I got that calm little voice in my head that said, "Hmm, no, I'm good out here actually. I don't think I will go back into class." So I would just continue to sit out on the playground, playing with my plastic spider toys or sitting on the swing. Teachers would realise what was going on and come out to get me and tell me I have to go back to class, and I would just very calmly hear them out and then smile at them and politely as possible tell them, "No thank you, I want to stay out here."
They really didn't know what to do with me. I wasn't getting upset, I wasn't throwing a tantrum, I wasn't yelling, I wasn't being rude in any way. I was incredibly docile and would let them explain things to me with endless patience and then just politely refute them and go back to what I was doing, like this was just a very normal and reasonable negotiation between two equal parties. I have memories of sitting on the swing while three very confused and flustered adult staff huddled around me trying to bribe me with candy to go back to class. It would take a whole lesson block to lure me back to the classroom, and then at lunch the whole thing would start over again. It took me three years at school to finally accept the status quo thanks to a religious nutter I got for a teacher, and finally went back to class when the bell rang (was never happy about it though).
I eventually settled into school life. Excelled at subjects I liked, at least passed subjects I didn't, followed the rules, was seen as intelligent and obedient and was often liked by my teachers. Until my final year, when we got the teacher I can only rudely monniker Mrs Bigmouth.
Mrs Bigmouth should not have been a teacher. She had a trigger temper and would explode into long, verbally abusive tirades against us if we ever did anything she felt was disrespectful behaviour. What was disrespectful behaviour? Damned if I know. It changed day by day, depending on mood. You could disrespect her to her face one day and she'd laugh and say you have such razor wit, and politely ask a question the next and she'd scream at you for ten nonstop minutes then give you a week of DT for talking back. The absolute peak moment of her boiling temper came when she threw a dictionary at a girl's head because she was whispering to me in class. When I tell you it missed her by half an inch...
But believe it or not, this wasn't what made her such an awful teacher. It was so hard to get teachers at rural schools back then, there was almost nothing you could do to get fired, so we had experience with teachers with nightmare tempers. What made her such an issue was her big mouth. She used us, her trapped audience, as free therapy. She would infodump, traumadump, about her very personal, very private life to us. All day. She'd be two words into a spelling list and launch into an extended story session about her marital issues with her husband. We'd be heads down doing fractions and, unprompted, she'd declare to the class that her adult daughter no longer talks to her and then diatribe to us about it until the bell rang. She had money issues, a contentious relationship with her parents, her marriage was on the rocks. She once pulled me aside after school and spoke with me, at length, about how she was thinking of having another child to try to repair her marriage. I was like, okay lady, I'm 11, about to miss my bus, and my house is a 4 hour walk on foot from here.
We weren't learning. We'd hadn't had a complete lesson since the first week of the school year. We were behind on the cirriculum and frustrated. One kid had brought a stopwatch into school and would time lessons vs her monologues and kept detailed lists, and we would come to school each morning and do betting pools on them. What subject would she interrupt, what would she talk about, and how long would it go.
But all that still wasn't the breaking point if you can believe it. No! Still not! The problem was it wasn't just her own private life she couldn't keep her mouth shut about. It was everyone else's. Because parents would make the reasonable assumption that she should be told things as our class teacher that would be important to know, and that she would understand these things were said in confidence. Instead she would veer randomly off in the middle of talking to us about her horrible weekend to let us know whatever private or traumatic thing was going on in a classmate's life that she had been made aware of. That was awful. That was what made that year hell. It wasn't even about when my secrets were shared with the entire class against my consent. It was watching the faces of my small, lovely, supportive class of 11 year old children go pale and scrunch up with held-back tears as things they never wanted to share were announced like morning news. God we hated her.
Then one day that voice came. The one I hadn't heard in years. The bell ring to go back into class and that voice said, "But I don't want to be in that classroom. I'm not even being taught there." So I just... didn't. I didn't go back to class. I just sat in the playground in a daze eating grass (don't eat grass, it's not good for your teeth). Despite how small my class was, I don't think Mrs Bigmouth even noticed I wasn't there. Others did though. Come lunch and everyone came out, my friends asked me where I was and I said, "Oh, I didn't go back to class."
"Why didn't you go back to class?"
"Why would I go back to class?"
Lightbulb moment for my schoolmates. Yeah, why would they go back to class? What was the point? From a practical standpoint, they weren't learning. From an emotional standpoint, it was horrible to be there. A friend who had had her family's dirty laundry aired to the entire class just last week, things even she didn't know because her parents tried to keep it from her, asked if she could sit with me rather than go back to class. I just stared at her, vacant and confused.
"Sure? I mean, I'm just eating grass though."
Over the next few days, two kids turned into four, turned into ten, turned into the whole class. The whole class was doing a sit-out protest on the field rather than go back to class. Of course Mrs Bigmouth tried to do something about it. She'd come out, screaming at us and threatening us with DT and internal suspension, but six months of that behaviour had totally vaccinated us against her. I'd become the de facto leader and spokesperson of the protest by merit of being the first to sit out and also because I was well known to not give a shit (autistic brain: I actually just frequently had trouble reading and reacting with the correct social behaviour but it gave me a cool and aloof bad boy mystique I guess). I gave her the exact same treatment from back in grade one. I would let her scream, let her holler, let her threaten, let her spittle rain down on me, and then I would give her a sweet and innocent smile and nod in acknowledgement and say, "No thank you, we're going to remain out here." And thirteen pairs of eyes would stare at her in total silence. No one, not even the most gobbermouthed little shite in the class, would volunteer a word. The unspoken agreement was all negotiations were my responsibility.
The thing about angry people is that they feed off conflict. They get you angry so they can respond with even more anger and it nourishes them. She had no absolutely no plan of action on how to deal with me patiently hearing her out then refuting her in the gentlest of terms.
Another thing that ended up helping down the line is that we made an attempt to conduct our own classes. I mean, they sucked and we didn't learn much because we were kids with no supervision, but it was really cute in retrospect. We'd have groups of people assigned to subjects, with some people bringing in words they found in a dictionary for spelling lists and others bringing in old 6th grade homework from older siblings. The heart was there and it served a purpose, if not educational.
"Okay, but how did no one else notice this was happening? Surely people would notice 14 kids sitting on the lawn, not in class?"
Rural school. Big. Empty. Fields. Even screaming at us, the most other classrooms would hear would be muffled voices, and everyone was used to hearing her yelling at us or taking us out onto the field abruptly to make us do laps as group punishment. Plus the way the school buildings were arranged was that it was actually all in one straight line of adjacent rooms, and ours happened to be at the very end of the building. No windows faced the field we all sat in except that of our own classroom. It was just a very lucky arrangement of coincidences and preconceived notions, at least for a couple weeks. I couldn't tell you the exact number, this was so long ago and as a kid I definitely had a more stretched idea of time. Minutes felt like hours, especially during that year. But there was definitely at least two weekends that passed by since the "sit-out protest" started.
Eventually someone cottoned on to what was happening, or maybe Mrs Bigmouth humbled herself and finally confessed to her boss that she had lost control of a bunch of 11-year-olds, so we were called into the principal's office to sort this out. As the representative of our class, I was of course chosen to attend the meeting, flanked by the girl who'd had the dictionary thrown at her head and my friend who was the first to sit out with me. Since I understood that this meeting was one where we were probably going to be yelled at for doing the wrong thing, a thing I had ample experience of, I felt like the easiest way to mitigate things (especially since I felt guilty for being the instigator) was to explain in a very rational and logical way the series of events that led up to our bad behaviour. As well, for my entire life my mother had always taught me that it was no good complaining about things unless you were also willing to think of solutions. "I'm hungry!" - "Well, what's a solution to that problem?" - "Uh, make myself a sandwich?" - "Great! Let's do that together!"
So what did I do? Of course, to make things as clean and concise as possible, I interviewed my class one by one to hear each individual story of why they didn't feel comfortable going to class anymore, itemised them under categories (Verbal Aggression; Interruptions of Lessons; Oversharing Student Life) for easier discussion because my little quirky brain loved itemising things, and then as a kind of olive branch came up with solutions (we wanted to finish lessons unhindered, we wanted our personal privacy to be respected, we wanted to be able to catch our bus on time rather than being held back with unfair DT or long "chats"). So many things sort of came together in this beautiful, wholly accidental way. We had months of records of timed rants and monologues, noted down to the millisecond thanks to that kid's stopwatch. We had records of us trying to teach ourselves during the protests, showing this wasn't us just not wanting to go to class but due to us feeling as though we did not have a class to go to. When the principal heard all this, her jaw it the floor. A lot of it was stuff she knew, peripherally, but things had just never been laid out so neatly before. Some of it was stuff we'd complained to parents about, but it was one kid coming home and telling one parent one time, weeks ago. There was no real sense, up until now, the sheer scope of her behaviour. She didn't even answer us. She just said, "Okay, I need to call your parents."
We got the rest of the week off school. That weekend, every parent of every student came to a meeting between them, Mrs Bigmouth, and the principal. Stories were swapped. My exercise book with my tidy little lists and the records of the betting pool and monologue times were confiscated and brought into the meeting. I don't know what went down, but when my mother came home she just told me that Mrs Bigmouth would not be our problem for the rest of the school year, and more importantly, that she was incredibly proud of me and that I did the right thing. Rarely in my childhood had my inability to integrate into normal society led me to doing the right thing, so I just remember crying and hugging and feeling vindicated about, I don't know, just existing or something.
So yeah. From the outside perspective here is what it looked like: I, the ringleader with a history of dismissing school rules, organised a sit-out strike amongst my class. I kept the protest peaceful and non-disruptive to other classes. When negotiations with the principal were finally arranged, as the representative I compiled a clear list of greivances, with evidence, and a list of reasonable demands. I mean, holy crap, yes, yes I clearly organised a student protest.
The actual results of it are mixed. We got a revolving door of substitute teachers of varying quality for the rest of the school year, occasionally being bundled into other classrooms entirely when they couldn't find someone. It wasn't a great learning environment and we continued to struggle a lot, but it was better than before. Mrs Bigmouth was not actually fired but put on leave for the rest of the school year, then returned and was put in charge of a different year level (which happened to be the class of the younger sister of a guy in my class: according to him, she was quiet as a church mouse that entire year so I hope at least she learned her lesson, or at least finally got divorced and went to actual therapy). The entire ordeal caused our already small and close class to become really really supportive and like family to each other and we all remain in touch until this day. And we became fierce about standing up for ourselves.
I kind of learned to parse the difference between when it was appropriate to go along with set societal rules even if I don't understand them, and when those rules were just straight up unreasonable and nobody should be required to follow them. I did, years alter, lead an actual (very small) strike at work but intentionally that time. My mother was proud of me then too. :)

Chapter 3
Hurricane Georg.
Our first contact with the new world was a colossal hurricane. Veins of lightning shattered through the black, swirling clouds. I had just tried to calm the nerves of the ship when I saw Suri sitting in the hall beneath the control room.
She was in a lounge corner with her suitcase opened and her supplies scattered across the small table. The little light from the window illuminated her drawing for me to see over her shoulder.
The black and white sketch began at the bow of the ship. The figure of a man in facing the open ocean. Ahead of him, the familiar despair of Hurricane Georg. The man had his back towards the artist, but his stature sailed through the fierce storm without worry. His gaze only in the beautiful sight of home on the other side.
Her pencil began to etch the details of his crewmans jacket, "You have a gift, Suri. Truly, you do."
She was ahead of me, she did not jump or gasp as I had expected, "Thank you, Capi. I saw you in the reflection. Im hard to get the jump on."
"Then this shouldnt surprise you," I smiled and approached her table. "My capi stars are on the right side, "I stepped back and tapped my shoulder."
Disappointment inked her face, darkening her mood, "Dam."
I laughed and pulled up a chair. She had captured the view from the window perfectly and I made a point to tell her. As we talked the storm outside began to fade. The world around us was healed and the worries of yesterday had never existed.
Her eyes were near black, in color, and her skin was incredibly warm. Physical characteristic were useless to determine where a person was from, but 500 years ago, she would have fit at home with the people of the Middle East. Had I been a different man, her beauty and brain would make a perfect partner.
The longer I stared, the darker the world around us became. Until she broke my gaze and looked shocked at something through the window.
"Did you see that?"
"No, what was it?"
"I-Im not sure..." her face drained of color as the harsh rocking of the storm was interrupted by something else. Suri and I were flung off our chairs onto the floor, her supplies pelting us as they flew through the air. I tried to stand, but my legs were too soft to make it easy.
I struggled to a kneel using the bolted-down desk. Suri gasped and I looked down. The longer I looked, the itchier it became. Once more the world grew darker and I only had enough energy for a simple joke.
"Mr. Morgs was right about those things."
"Gud morning, Capi!" Ennay cheered from the wall-mounted screen.
I struggled to sit myself up. I was in the infirmary, only Ennay was there to greet me. My jacket was gone. All I had on was a white t-shirt and grey shorts.
"Officer Angelhart had your attire taken to be cleaned," Ennay chimed in, "Today is Wednesday, sir, 4:13am. Its the morning after you lost consciousness."
I thanked him and asked him to catch me up on the happenings in the passed half day.
"The reality is unclear, Capi, but Helmsman Archer believes we were attacked by a... a sea monster, sir."
"Archer? Hes no storyteller. Why?" I swung my legs over the bed, "get him down here or tell him im on my way."
Ennay surprised me with his fast response, "No. Sir, We had a breach. Ms. Aziz told the Doctor you had severed and artery during a spell of turbulence. The New Horizon had actually made contact with something what breached the hull. Damage Control responded in 4 minutes and were quick to contain flooding. However, we sustained a second breach."
Before he could continue, I dropped back onto the bed, "Whats the status?"
"On the New Horizon? Operational. A few sections had to be permanently sealed until we are out of this storm."
"And Damage Control?"
Ennay did not respond as quickly as he had been. It felt like an eternity before he told me, "6 casualties," the room fell completely silent. I couldnt even hear my heart beating, "5 fatalities. Sergant Franccigo Blanco is recovering in Infirmary 4C. He is unconscious, but has sustained gruesome wounds. Officer Angelhart declared a S.O.E. to assume your position. Otherwise,..."
"Yes, yes, the prosthetics. I hate that system."
"Well, sir, you are able to disable it."
"What?"
"Its not a very common scenario, but since we are not in International Sea, the law requiring your presence does not necessarily need to be enforced."
I sat back and thought for a second, "Ill discuss it with Dr. Mally. Where are they all?"
"Dr. Mally is in Infirmary 4C with Sergant Blanco. Officer Angelhart is your office filling out an incident report for both your accident and the breaches."
"Thank you, Ennay. Tell Max I am on my way and then let Dr. Mally know I will meet her shortly."
"Of course, sir."
My office was silent except for the fan gently spinning from the ceiling. Across from me was a young man, mid-twenties, with dusty blond hair. His uniform was perfect, he has even removed his hat on the perfect beat upon entering the room.
The appearance and demeanor any ship captain would be beyond proud to accept on his ship. It had just been dumb luck that he had lost both of his eyes to shrapnel sealing off the lower corridors during the state of emergency yesterday.
I poured Mr. Blanco a drink, 2444 Geoff Russel - The Hearty Mans Drink. I needed to finish the incident report, but Id never ask a man to relive what he had without a bit of buzz to his bite.
"So, Sargent Blanco, I-"
"You can call me, Fran, Capi."
"And you can call me Santago, for tonight anyway," I continued my questions. I tried my best to stay shallow and not dive deep into the pain Fran had endures just hours ago.
We talked about the 5 fatalities.
"Did you... see... them die?"
The gauze replacing his eyes stared at me, blankly. His face was uncanny, unhuman. Like the man inside may actually have been a 6th dead body.
"No," he quickly took a drink, "I did hear them, though. They yelled and screamed for me to open the door. I- I couldnt see. I thought the sea water had poisoned me somehow. I kept rubbing and rubbing my eyes hoping to get whatever radioactive stuff out of my head..." He took a breath. He was remarkably calm. Agitated, of course. But calm.
He continued, "I looked through the window on the bulkhead and the last thing I saw was Aleks staring back at me. His eyes were... he was calling out for me, I am sure of it. But something got him and he was sucked out."
"I am so sorry, Fran," I tried to write as quietly as possible to not remind him of the formality, "Do you know what got him?"
He finished his glass. As he set it down, he missed the table. The cup did not shatter, but it had jolted Fran from his memory. He lost his composure.
He started yelling at me about a horrific beast he had seen. How Aleks, Private Aleksander Igorsen, had been encased in blood and black sludge. He swung his hands wildly at the table in a rage, but had only managed to knock over a lamp.
Pity does not begin to describe what I felt watching him. Like a bleeding animal continuing to run from the wolves despite not knowing he was already surrounded. In him, I saw death. I saw anger. I saw fear. I saw what he was feeling imaging the creature that killed his men.
I grappled with him, trying to make my location known and always talking to him. I was not some monster from the unknown blackness set on hunting him and he needed to know that. He continued to struggle until I had completely engulfed his whirlwind into a hug. The screams turned to cries and then to whimpers.
After some time, I dismissed him back to his room and instructed Ennay that he was on suicide watch. Sergant Franccigo Blanco had earned a promotion or a permanent dismissal, whichever he wanted, but I needed him to take time to himself before I reminded him where we are.
The storm was intense, but at least it was consistent. By Katzs reckoning, we are approaching the halfway point of this hurricane. We had entered it 51 hours ago and Katz had said we are another 50 away from clear skies.
Unfortunately for all of us, Katzs theory was not seen through.
It began with our solar panelling being severed from their operating power banks. That was not a major issue, hydropower was our primary source. The issue arose when the New Horizon began to spin.
I had radioed the Helmsman demanding why we are weighing anchor, but the anchor was still resting above water. He said no one dropped the anchor. Something else entirely had us. We rushed to every window, every pane of glass to search for whatever it was that was stopping us.
Ennay spoke out, "Capi, Major Gorlammi has spotted our snag at 129 degrees. Nearest viewpoint is Residential Room L3D, assigned to L-"
I ignored the rest, I needed to see what was in that window. Luckily for me, Lucy Partridge was not home. I burst through the door and, for the first time, I saw a behemoth of a serpent-like creature sticking out of the water. I could not see a head, nor tail. I also had no idea if what I saw was the body or an appendage connected to some inconceivably large beast.
After enough time, I manage to figure out one of the ships heavy guns had pierced the creature and was holding us together. Our best bet was to either rotate the gun and hope its dislodged or to remove the gun entirely.
I relayed this information to Ennay to alerted the Gunner Teams and Damage Control. Yet, none of them would be given the chance. In the distance, silhouetted by sparks of lightning the size of the ship, I saw the head of the creature. It must have been miles away, but the size was unparalleled. Its head leaped from the water and swiveled back towards us. It was like a colossal eel. Flashes of light showed through its skin like veins until it sent a surge into the gun and into the ship.
The lights went out across the boat. The only light was the occasional flash from outside. It was completely dark, but I knew it was still coming for us.
I ran out of the quarters as emergency lights slowly burned. The hallway must have been 100 feet long before Id reach the staircase, but when I was halfway through, my feet left the ground.
I felt weightless for a moment. The lights burned out and all around me was darkness. My heart was incredibly slow or maybe time had slowed. I felt the doorframe to Mrs. Partridges room snap against my elbow. There was no pain. I didnt even feel pain when glass cut across my back as I was hurled through the shattered window.
I crashed into the water, it must have been hundreds of feet below me. I was in shock. I looked around and all I saw was darkness. Then, suddenly, all I saw was light. The eel sent a pulse through its body and for the first time I saw the monster entirely. It surrounded the ship above water, coiled all about the waves, and entangled the entire ocean as deep as I could see.
This is not a colossal eel surviving a hurricane.
This colossal eel is the very being causing the hurricane.
A cosmic terror named Hurricane Georg.

ACT 1. Sunday afternoon after visiting the local market two brothers wait for their train to arrive. If they were even a minute late, they knew their mother would surely scold them and scold the elder of the two far worse. The idea of another beating did not bother the elder brother; he had been through far worse just dealing with the brat and his attempted jailbreaks, though something did begin to make him painfully nauseous forcing him to feel pressured by the light breeze as if gravity had suddenly been increased tenfold. All his senses were heightening beyond anything he had thought possible.All around him he saw that the once energetic and hyperactive passengers had become little more than mannequins; their movements slowing to a standstill. They had all gone silent. The station was no longer filled with the cries of children or the gentle laughs of their parents. He had never heard such silence in such a crowded location. He did not feel panicked, nor did he feel a need to act for this silence was oddly comforting to him. However, the newly calm atmosphere would quickly be the source of a lifetime of suffering.His hand began to reach for his brother in an attempt to call his attention. Though in a moment of both unprecedented shock and exhaustion John shoved his younger brother onto the rails of an oncoming train. Local news would report the incident as nothing more than a tragic manic episode of a young sixteen-year-old. However, for John this single visceral instant in which all of his brother's bones were instantly crushed was stretched into hours. He was painfully aware of how every bone in his brother's body contorted in inhuman ways some nearly resembling perfect right angles, until eventually, they snapped and sent insurmountable pain throughout his nervous system. His blood curling screams were made mute by the screech of the train coming to a halt, though, by the time they stopped, his brother had torn his every vocal cord and had long ago lost consciousness. Still on the platform, the elder brother stood still, attempting to process what exactly he had done. He had no idea what force had compelled him to push his brother, but that instant would forever define what he saw as reality.That however was nineteen years ago, in present day he lived in isolation far from any person. He spent his isolated days wandering the land around his cabin completing house chores that distracted him from reminiscing about his days in the asylum or as he liked to call it “The Echo Room” where he was transferred after the incident. He headed inside after spending a portion of his morning counting all one-hundred-and-thirty-two trees that were showing signs of life after the harsh winter that nearly forced him to cut down two of them for firewood. Once inside he began preparing his morning coffee when he heard a loud creak come from the hall. He (after many incidents) learnt to avoid the boards that creaked, so in his mind immediately an intruder was breaking into his cabin searching for food or his stash of special edition coffee. Deciding to investigate he walked towards the noise when suddenly he heard two knocks at his front door. Confused and slightly worried, he proceeded to walk towards the door making sure not to step on any of the annoyingly loud floorboards.He approached and looked through the peephole and saw only what remained of the melting snow outside. Opening the door, he saw that only his steps led to the doormat. He glanced around and saw no indication of any life aside a few dark patches on the snow. He was about to close the door when he noticed a tiny red package wrapped in a radiant red bow placed clear from where the door would open. Cautiously picking it up, he noticed how it had almost no weight to it; as if empty. He walked inside and sat at his desk planning to journal later about the weird morning he had been having. He examined the exterior of the package and saw how not only was it near perfect condition but it was also slightly warm to the touch; as if recently held. He undid the bow and cautiously opened the package, half expecting an explosive of some sort. Though, all he found was a ragged ripped piece of paper. Unremarkable aside from the fact that it was inside such a carefully constructed package. On the other side he saw that it had some scarlet lettering inscribed into it reading.“Ouroboros”. At first believing it to be a prank by the kids who had heard rumors about him, and his incident, nearly caused him to dismiss it entirely deeming it little more than a slightly humorous event. He decided to put it aside for now as he had coffee left to drink that was quickly getting cold. He walked back towards the kitchen still distracted by the idea of no trace being left by whoever had left the gift. Was it even a gift? Maybe it was just some well-executed prank? In any manner he would later have a better look at it. He absentmindedly, reached for his cup and immediately pulled his hand back shocked by the temperature of the cup. It was frozen! Almost to a complete solid. He thought himself slightly distracted but not enough to freeze his morning coffee especially not his special edition coffee. First The Box and now this, it was all adding up to an annoying morning. Was it still morning? No, that’s not right. He had just spent the day counting trees. How could it still possibly be morning?The thought of Dr. Lumis being correct about his mental condition after so many years sent a chill down his spine especially since last time they talked, he did not exactly behave amicably. He was sure that both incidents had been isolated events that could never happen again. Sure, he had heard the echoes every once in a while, but he was never insane like the others; this he knew to be a fact. If he was insane, how could he have ever left? Disoriented and beginning to sweat, his legs suddenly gave out causing him to fall backward landing on the cold wooden floorboards. He looked around hurriedly expecting to see an intruder that had somehow found him. After seeing nothing but his pristine furniture, he steadied himself and began to control his breathing. He slowly got up causing the wood underneath to creak under the sudden release of weight. Deciding to further assure himself he went around the cabin checking in all four rooms. He found nothing aside from his own disturbances. Still feeling slightly nervous and disturbed he headed back towards the living room in search for The Box with the red bow determining that it had somehow triggered his current situation. The Box was still where he placed it; much to his relief. He sat down. He looked once again at the scarlet lettering.
Act 2. Back in the asylum he would often spend his days wondering how he could have ever been grouped alongside individuals who had purposefully and viciously committed heinous crimes against innocent victims. He was not insane like them. Whatever had caused his hand to shove his brother had long abandoned him. His routine now consisted of cleaning whatever mess the older residents made in the halls and transporting lab waste to the crematorium. He would clean from the southern stalls all the way to the northern cemetery and make his rounds gathering the waste from the rooms. It was a simple job but lonely, nonetheless. The halls were often only illuminated by tiny flickering red lights that indicated the position of the cameras through which Dr.Lumis would often monitor John during his nightly crusades. Though incredibly distasteful, John did not mind, he accepted that odd situations would be easier to explain if someone of credit had seen them. Yet despite this, he felt he was being watched by someone other than the doctor. He assumed that this feeling was due to the paranoia he had been diagnosed with a few months back. On a particular night, moments after dumping another bag of soft solids and dense liquids down the chute, he heard footsteps, just outside the room. Expecting to see the doctor he begrudgingly walked towards the door. Exiting and seeing no one he called out for the doctor but got no response aside from the echo of his own voice. He began to walk towards where he had heard the footsteps come from when he suddenly collapsed out of exhaustion. The same exhaustion that had plagued him during the moment of his brother’s death. He tried to reach for his panic button (a gift from Lumis) but it had disappeared from his chain. He tried to scream but not a single whisper was heard. He gazed into the dark corridor where he had thought Dr.Lumis had gone, but saw nothing but soft shadows. Though something was unnervingly wrong about them. They moved as if following an order, all synchronized, all heading towards him. That night in the asylum had left him scared to even return to the disposal area; he feared that The Shadows might eventually be able to reach him. The Shadows did not haunt him unaccompanied: they followed alongside The Echo tormenting his nights. While The Shadows could not reach him during daylight, he could never escape The Echo. It followed wherever he went and tracked everything he did. Dr.Lumis explained that he merely suffered from an extreme case paranoia but John saw the others; who yelled and who screamed true nonsense, he was perfectly aware of himself and the ones around him. Dr. Lumis secretly believed patient #132 experienced Hyper-sanity though this he would never verbally confess. It was term he decided would for now adequately describe his patient’s acute awareness of The Shadows and The Echo. John would for many years go without hearing The Echo after that night, only ever hearing what seemed like the final moans of a dying voice. Back in present day, he hoped he wasn’t suffering another hallucination as they tended to leave him in an embarrassing shocked state. He questioned what “Ouroboros” could possibly mean in relation to himself. He considered the possibility of it being an early warning of some threat to the sanctity of his home. He quickly dismissed it as he had not interacted with anyone long enough to possibly annoy them. Weird them out? Sure. Offend them? Maybe with his sense of fashion. Following his incredibly fine-tuned survival instincts he put on a light coat and went outside to walk among the trees. A mundane task, but one he truly enjoyed especially since he hoped it would distract him for a short while. Just before he closed the door behind him, he took one more look at The Box sitting on his desk and decided to take it with him in case he met the person who had left it. The sun had begun to set marking the end of the day. He watched the sun hide behind the mountain range letting the world bathe in darkness for another night. John did not dislike the night (he had worked nightshifts in The Echo Room for years) but he didn’t find the freezing cold to be ideal. He had not left his land for what was a few years now and the idea of even slightly stepping out of his comfort was making him incredibly anxious. Still, he walked forward towards wherever the path took him. The night only got darker and quieter, and he only got colder. He did not see the lightning bugs that usually warded away the dark near the edge of his hill. Without the soft hum of bugs or soft breeze that would brush against his beard he felt alone. Even the nights back in the asylum did not possess this level of quiet. He kept moving hoping that eventually he would find something that could break the uncomfortable silence. As he continued down the hill, he realized he could no longer distinguish the path from the dirt surrounding it. He considered heading back when he realized he had not kept track of where he had come from. Not only was he lost but alone with his thoughts and whatever had been watching him from the start. He walked a step forward and then another one back repeatedly. What he was attempting to achieve was beyond reason. Had he gone mad? No, he was perfectly sane. “Wait, I can hear them clearly now” he spoke, his voice dried from the cold.“This is not a hallucination” he spoke softly.“i-I AM NOT HALLUCINATING” he proclaimed. He heard The Echo once more though they were not of his voice but rather of Another. He had long been aware of “The Echo” but he could never fully determine whether it was a dream or an effect of the chemicals but this Other was undoubtedly real. “I don’t know where you are but please. Are you real?” he asked the night. He could now hear The Echo or rather feel the pressure of its words upon his reality. Had it been trying to hide the Other? He walked forward and pulled out The Box. “You gave me this right? What for? What purpose does it serve?” No one responded.Annoyed, he threw it as far as he could down the hill. “THERE! THIS CAN’T CONTINUE WITHOUT IT, RIGHT?” He shouted at the endless empty. That’s when out of the darkness emerged a faint light. Was it a lightning bug or maybe a sign of civilization?
Act 3. Cautiously, he approached the cold light and saw that the light was artificial. The tube inside flickered before another appeared a few feet ahead, and then another and then another and then what seemed like an uncountable amount more. He took a step forward and noticed that the ground underneath had turned to hard white tile. Accepting that this was not the weirdest occurrence that had affected him he proceeded to walk forward making sure to keep a mental note to journal about it later. The surrounding landscape transformed into white walls that every so often had a window that let him peek at the other side. At first, he could still see the snowy landscape, but it to slowly changed; first having scattered papers and then chairs, cabinets, and desks until they eventually resembled a typical office. Its purpose was not obvious to him, and neither was the hallway but if they were changing surely, it possessed a deeper metaphorical meaning that related to his life. He saw a door at the very end of the hall and decided to not postpone the ploy of whatever “The Echo” was planning. He stood before the door wondering about what it could possibly contain. John proceeded to open the door. Inside was a desk along with a single cabinet. Walking inside he noticed that the room was illuminated by some otherworldly source that had no words that could possibly describe it. He walked towards the desk and a file he had not seen previously, sat open. Inside was a description of his physical appearance. “Age: 35. Height: 5’8. Weight: 185 lbs. Hair: Black with obvious signs of stress. Eyes: Brown. Character Aptitude: High.” “Okay, I get it. I’m old, you didn’t have to expose my hair like that” he said slightly embarrassed quickly restyling his hair. He noticed that even though they had an almost perfect description of his hobbies, dreams and wishes they did not have a single picture as if they for some reason were only able to use words. “SOOO you know about that one time in the asylum (don’t ask) BUT NOT A SINGLE PICTURE? That’s lame.” he said mockingly. On the final page he found what looked like an incomplete file; most of the personal attributes had not yet been filled and only a note was made reading. “They don’t need a complete story just one they can understand.” Besides the fact that whatever role he played in this act had been a mere afterthought; he was confused as to how anyone could have ever gathered such sensitive and personal information about his isolated life. Was it The Echo? Had it told them his life? A phone started to ring somewhere in the room abruptly breaking the silence he had become used to. He quickly rotated towards the source of the ringing but did not find anything. There was only him and the four walls that despite the lighting did not change a shade of grey. He walked towards one of them that seemed to be where the noise came from resting his hand on it and gently put his ear to it thinking that the ringing was from another room entirely. The wall he had just laid a hand on had no longer a physical representation and causing John to fall through to the other side. Disoriented he slowly looked up and saw The Telephone illuminated by what seemed to be the same light that illuminated the previous room. This one however was far more powerful and concentrated solely on The Telephone. He approached it expecting a chasm to somehow appear underneath his feet. The Telephone did not stop ringing and only seemed to increase in intensity (though this could have simply been a hallucination). He lifted it to cut the blaring noise and slowly put it to his ear. “hello?” “…” “…” “The protagonist only dies if the story ends” the voice said quietly. “HUH? YOU DRAGGED ME HERE TO TELL ME THAT OMINOUSLY ANNOYING LOAD OF *********!” “…I’m so sorry” The call disconnected not out of offense but rather out of completion. John slammed the phone back onto its stand and decided it was time for this nonsense to end. He walked out into the room he was in before anxiously attempting to find another exit: only to be met with solid walls. What wicked game had he been roped into? When would it end? These were questions he would answer far earlier than he expected. A door appeared in the center of the room. No, it was more of a two-dimensional plane that appeared to be a sort of portal. With no other options, John stepped into the newly opened portal.
Act 4. On the other side was a station, and his ears were immediately flooded with the cries of children and the laughs of their parents. He walked around moving through the crowd careful to not miss any indication of the location. His pace increased as he began to recognize the commuters shortly realizing exactly where he was. He rushed to a platform, the platform where he and his brother were to arrive after their day in the market. He sat on a nearby bench committed to saving his brother no matter who he would have to shove instead. Three agonizing days passed with the daily commuters repeating their routine with the slightest variations. One of these variations would be the key to preventing the day that haunted his nights. Something would soon cause him to shove his brother onto the tracks. He was determined to stop the fall or kill himself to keep his brother safe.He heard a familiar laughter and turned towards the source and saw his brothers face uncontrollably laughing and himself lightly smiling. He began to run towards them but felt once again suddenly exhausted. As if the air became a type of nonnewtonian sludge making his legs impossibly heavy. The crowd around him seemed to be moving just as easily as before; children laughing just as maniacally and just as carelessly. He tried to yell to them, but his lungs were filled with the dense fluid drowning any screams he attempted. He was forced to watch how his brother got closer and closer to the edge. Through much effort, he managed to get close enough to extend a hand towards his past trying to desperately push him away from his brother. The past reacted in what seemed to be a defensive system and sent a temporal anomaly throughout the space his past and present inhabited. Time began to exponentially speed forward. In a last desperate attempt to prevent his brother’s death he tried to distract the past long enough to let the train pass without incident, but the temporal anomaly caused the relative slow velocity of his touch to have the effect of a sudden jerk and in his final moments of consciousness he saw his brother accelerate towards the rails in a split second. He awoke back in the office alone with nothing, but the realization of what force had killed his brother. He curled into the fetal position and began to cry; still believing his lungs to be filled with the dense liquid he did not let out a single sigh. He spent several hours in this state of painful silence without even opening his eyes. His emotions were chaotic and his thoughts unending. They tormented him for hours far after he had run out of tears to let out. They were merciless and torturous forbidding him from resting, insisting on his suffering. Being the cause of his brother’s death nearly caused him to go insane yet part of him kept insisting that Another was to blame. Another had caused him to do it. The Other had forced his hand. Of this, he was now sure. The Other enjoyed his suffering, The Other forced him to kill his brother. He had not eaten nor slept in what seemed like years and yet he stood up defying the gravity that held him down. He took a deep breath of as much oxygen as his lungs allowed and began to speak. “Whoever you are. Whatever you are. Wherever you are. Just know I will no longer play for your entertainment the rest is entirely my choice” he said threateningly. He then began to walk forwards confidently towards the dark wall and through the hidden door that he was not supposed to see. He entered what seemed to be a studio room though, unlike the sterile office; it was trashed. Papers littered the floor and empty bottles populated the lone mattress. On it laid a journal that had recently had liquid spilt on it. He picked the journal and gently opened it and began to read. It was scratched with the stray ideas of a creator who seemed to have never decided upon an end or beginning to his story; yet possessing the journey. He saw many ideas that together seemed to create a way for the continuity to depend entirely on Another rather than itself. A thought described in a single word interested him enough to take it with him. The room started to dissolve around him transforming into a cold landscape. Armed with the knowledge of who he was he treaded what remained of the worn-out path. The sun began to rise signing the start of another day, yet John did not seem to notice as he was focused on something buried in the snow. He could not see much of it yet he knew it was The Box he had thrown the previous night. He dug it up and began his walk up the hill once more. He eventually arrived at his cabin and walked towards his front door….
Act 5.
If you wish to rebel; continue reading on the next page.
Begin the story once more on Truth 2.
If you wish to ward away The Other; don’t read any further
If you wish to follow The Echo read Truth 3
To understand turn to Truth 4
Truth 1
…Before deciding that no longer would he be a puppet for someone’s amusement. John arrogantly began marched back down the hill and headed north towards the nearest interstate a few miles from his home hoping that he had derailed The Echo’s plot. It took him hours on foot, but he would eventually come across the road and start his journey back to civilization no longer subject to the whims of an Otherworldly Audience. He believed his future was now his to decide. He decided what he would become. He decided when and what to think. This he was sure would be how he escaped his torment. John suddenly suffered a complete body collapse and fell forward landing face first onto the scorching road. It would be several sweltering hours before anyone would find him. But eventually someone did, john suffering heavy burns and on the brink of death was saved. He would awake months later in a hospital bed though no one would ever know of this. Weeks would pass as john laid in the hospital bed unable to speak or even move; alerting no one to his consciousness. The doctors and nurses were busy with whatever important patients needed immediate attention; they walked from one end to the other in what seemed like mere minutes. The entire time the only company he had was The Echo and yet slowly it too seemed to forget his existence as well. Eventually The Echo having no interest went away.Jane a third-year medical student had recently joined the staff a month prior and had already been assigned two elders and one child. Though overwhelmed she did not grow annoyed nor frustrated; she loved her job and by proxy her patients. Despite her benevolent nature there was a single patient she never went near as he always seemed to be watching her despite his eyes being shut for over four months. Any time she got near to patient #132 she would begin to get nauseous and quickly retreat. She had no ID on the man, but it seemed he was dehydrated for far longer than should’ve been possible and should be by all accounts dead if not near it. Whenever she worked nightshifts, she would swear that she heard the man whimper slightly as if to warn her of something. Even when she was on the opposite side of the building, she would hear the echo of his groans. She would eventually be transferred and would soon forget the man who after 6 months was officially declared braindead and was due to be disposed of, yet she would still every once in a while, still hear The Echo. Forgotten Ending
Truth 2…Realizing that there was no other choice John took a step forward while placing the note he ripped from the journal into The Box making sure to keep it neatly packaged. He saw the footprints he had left two nights before and carefully stepped into each one making sure to not disturb the surrounding snow. Whatever…Whoever had set him on this path allowed him to live a life of suffering, a life of loss, and a life of pain. This, he felt was the way things were intended to play out; the way it had to end. He placed The Box on the final step making sure it would not be knocked away whenever the door would eventually open. He walked away nearly to the edge of the property when he looked back once more. Managing to peek inside he saw his past still making his coffee when he saw an almost invisible distortion appear near the front door. He smiled and turned away only saying…Freedom ending
Truth 3…though spotting a disturbance near the back of the cabin distracted him from the front door. He decided to investigate for fear of losing a single blossoming tree. Arriving near the back fence he saw no indication of a disturbance giving him much needed reassurance. He heard noise emerge from inside the cabin giving him one more dilemma to deal with. He headed to the backdoor making sure to not disturb the recent snow and entered the cabin. Being sleep deprived and without coffee he had forgotten about the wooden floor and stepped on one that caused a creak to be heard throughout the cabin. He quickly hid in the bathroom fearing that he had disturbed the continuity that The Echo had established when suddenly a bright flash blinded him. He found himself at the front door next to The Box. Slightly amused he proceeded to knock on the door and was soon after transported once more to an empty hall. Both confused and entertained as he was being transported from one place in time to another he took a few steps forward alerting the past to his presence. Seeing his past enter the hall he ducked and quickly hid around the corner. His past seemed to believe that the doctor was in the halls and decided to investigate though just as he was nearing closer; his past collapsed. John saw how his fall was slowed as if moving through the dense liquid he had once gone through. He walked towards his past and noticed an old fashioned panic button that would instantly call Dr.Lumis to his location. Measuring the consequences, he decided to remove the panic button and head back towards The Shadows. For a third and final time he was transported to a final location, the bottom of a snowy hill. Taking in his surroundings he noticed burn marks on the snow where his past would eventually walk through the portal whenever the past caught up. He reached into his pocket and realized how the plot was supposed to move forward. He walked until he reached the exact point where his past would once again find The Box. He kneeled and buried The Box making sure to erase any evidence of his own disturbances. Fully fulfilling his purpose John collapsed. The End.
“Did the hero die?” “What?” “Did he die?” “No? He beat the bad guy and saved the day remember?” “Yea but like AFTER.” “Well, I guess after a few years he would.” “No” The young child said growing annoyed, “when you said, “The End” did he die?” “No.” responded the elder brother. “Then what happened to him? Is he still alive?” “The protagonist only dies if you stop reading.” concluded the elder brother as if possessed. Begin again?
Truth 4…Then just as he took his first step forward everything began to rot. His trees, his home, his coffee, all of it was slowly eroding into a fine dust. He knew that another temporal anomaly would be the likely cause, but he had not yet experienced one that possessed this level of molecular destruction. The fabric of his reality was slowly and thoroughly being untangled into its most simple of compositions. It separated the light from dark, gravity from time, and words from spaces.John could now comprehend what had defined his reality for so many painful years, he finally understood The Narrative and how all possible endings had been chosen long before his creation. John had been a slave from the moment The Narrative began; not once in his entire existence had he ever had a real choice only walking paths already treaded by Another. He was nothing but a plot device in an otherwise self-indulging tale written by a gentle master forced to be cruel for those above. From the moment this story began, John was in pain. He could never hope to truly escape; he could only die until he arose once more. Had John never understood what his life really was then maybe he could’ve found meaning in his suffering. Unfortunately, this choice has now forced John to become aware of how truly meaningless his existence was. His life was little more than entertainment for The Other; they were the ones truly in control. For as long as The Other remained, The Echo would doom John to eternal suffering. The Echo was never in control of The Narrative; he too was merely a subject to it by an even greater force. The Echo did not wish for John to suffer but The Other would not allow John to live if he did not. It is a toxic cycle of pain, suffering and realization that forces John to relive The Narrative lifetime after lifetime. The Narrative must have suffering intertwined into its foundation otherwise The Other would grow bored and erase the reality ending John in but a mere thought. Don’t you see? Don’t you understand? This is reality; John cannot exist without pain, The Echo cannot live without a narrative, and The Other is you. THE END......
Intended to be a philosophical narrative detailing the tragic relationship between the reader, the narrator, and the character and how they cannot coexist without hurting each other.

For context I’m currently 42 and prior to IVF I had two early miscarriages at 40 and 41. I did 3 IVF cycles. First cycle resulted in zero viable embryos. Second cycle I got 3 embryos; we transferred 2 untested day-3 embryos (failed implantation) and freeze 1 day-5 pgt-a 5AA euploid. The third cycle resulted in 1 day-5 pgt-a 5AA euploid. We transferred the embryo from the third cycle and it also failed to implant as well.
Back in March we transferred the last embryo from the second cycle and it took! I wasn’t sure how to feel because of my prior experiences with miscarriages, I guarded my heart. Beta tests were good (day 10 was 333, day 12 was 618 but because the numbers didn’t double my clinic tested me again two days later, 1,368). I had my first ultrasound at 6+ weeks and we saw the little bean with its tiny heart beating on the screen. Then the next ultrasound was at 9 weeks and he was growing as expected and had a strong heart beat. Everything looked normal and great. That last visit I graduated from my clinic and had scheduled for my first OBGYN visit at week 12. I’ve never been this far along and was finally believing that I’m actually pregnant.
I was feeling all of the pregnancy symptoms and gradually let my guard down and was believing this it is for me. I donated all my leftover IVF/FET medications and supplies. The other day I went in for my 12 weeks scan and the my little guy was not moving and no heartbeat was detected. He did not look that much bigger than when I last saw him. He measured 10w5d. How could this be? I’m devastated and can’t understand why it has happened. Statistically I’m in the 1% group to experience 3 consecutive miscarriages.
The doctor planned to schedule a d&c in the next few days but after we got home from the doctor’s office I started bleeding and passing some blood clots. And it has continued. I’m waiting for everything to pass naturally in the next couple/few days. Before I left the doctor’s office they gave me a little container to take home just in case my body process the miscarriage naturally. I have to collect my little guy in this tiny container and bring it back to doctor’s office so they can run tests. This process is just so cruel.
** Edit to add more (graphics) details.
Thank all for sharing your stories and comforting thoughts. This community means so much to me because I get so much support and I feel that you really understand what I’m going through. I’m sorry that you also have experienced loss in this journey.
3 hours after posting this I passed the fetus and so so so much blood and huge clots. It was extremely heavy bleeding for 2.5+ hours. I had multiple gushing where it filled up the entire pad (plus huge clots of blood). We were prepared to go to hospital if the bleeding doesn’t slow down or I feel dizzy/fainting. Luckily it slowed down but the cramps are now stronger and lingering. I was not expecting to bleed this much since I’ve experienced 2 natural miscarriages already. Maybe because I’m further along this time. It was scary. I not sure what to feel now. Just numb and empty. My husband helped me put the fetus in the container and store it in the refrigerator until Monday. I don’t think I can go near it 😢.

WPA – A Completely Average Roadtrip
Disclaimer: Not canon, and I don’t use patreon so please don’t spoil me. Also, any opinion held by a character is that of the characters and not my own. Enjoy.
Town of Ljosalfington, local time 14:00, week 7
Emma Booker
“Again Illunor, I warned you before that this is a utility vehicle, not a party rated smart-limo. I am already compromising more than I should by allowing you to use the sample cooler as a minifridge, one which I can’t even use!” I said as I loaded the materials I had just purchased into the back of the high-G All terrain fusion-ethanol-electric hybrid 24th-century legacy pickup truck that I had printed out earlier this week, carefully avoiding the heavy ordinance hard point.
“That is hardly an excuse for that abysmally cramped leg space barely fit for cattle, never mind the bare minimum for standard decorum suitable for nobility. If this is what a car is like, then I don’t see why you care for your technology,” complained Illunor, who was sitting around idly with a malformed garish bowl of icecream that he had stashed away from lunch.
“If it bothers you so much, perhaps you could help next time with your ‘bigger-on-the-inside’ magic,” I retorted as I slid the last core sample into the back before covering it up with a tarp and strapping it down.
I had originally planned to visit Ljosalfington by myself to acquire much needed exo-materials to test various mana manipulator configurations as I worked to develop my first wand as not all of the materials I needed were procurable locally from Elaseer. I eventually yielded, much to my regret, to allowing Illunor to come with me as he insisted on wanting to deliver a letter personally in town after Thacea had pointed out the wisdom of not travelling alone.
We continued our back and forth for a bit yet as I finished securing my payload a voice called out to me from the direction of the town.
“Excuse me a moment, I couldn’t help but notice but are you from the academy?”
I turned to see an elf dressed in a plain brown buttoned up tunic matched by a slightly shabby pair of trousers with what appeared to be a lute upon his back and a plain and unenchanted longsword on his belt gesturing at our robes. Mine especially were new and unusual, tailored by the academy to go over my armour and allow access to the anchor points and allow me to exit my armour with minimal hassle. Illunor scoffed at what was evidently a commoner’s arrogance at approaching nobility and turned his head away in disgust. I glanced at Illunor and shook my head before turning to face the new man. I had time to spare, and any opportunity to engage in a hearts-and-minds dialogue with the locals outside the bounds of the managed environment of the academy was more than worth the time to chat. Especially as most of the other locals seemed to be content in ignoring me.
“Yes, we are currently studying at the Transgracian Academy. I am Cadet Emma Booker representing the United Nations of Earth and Luna from Earthream, and my aloof compatriot is Lord Illunor Rularia of the Vunerian courts. We were just about to head back but are in no rush. May I ask your name and what brings you by?” I asked with my hand outstretched in greeting.
“Ah yes, yes. My name is Edhel Redoehdelnif, a wandering bard by trade like my father and his father before him. My apologies, Cadet Emma Booker, I am unfamiliar with Earthrealm,” said Edhel as he grasped my hand with both of his and shook it tepidly yet vigorously. Or rather, tried to, as the motors on my suit resisted his efforts.
“News doesn’t seem to spread all that fast around here, so it makes sense you haven’t heard of us. We’re a new realm, and only just got here. Pleasure to make your acquaintance, Edhel Redoehdelnif,” I replied.
“Absolutely fascinating! And a knight no less, or perhaps a squire? I’m sure you have many stories to tell of Earthrealm. Say, by chance are you about to head back to the academy? I have business in Elaseer and the usual coach has been absent as of late so I would rather not go it alone,” said Edhel.
I was hesitant to bring a stranger back in the car with me, even if Illunor was present. However, the opportunity that meeting a bard presented was too good to pass up from an intel perspective and to win the favour of the populace at large.
“That is a great idea. I think I have room for one more…” I paused before gesturing towards Illunor, “provided everyone is ok with it that is.”
Illunor gave a huff and turned his head away in silence.
“Very well, I will allow this. But he will not be joining me in your sorry excuse for a coach,” said Illunor dismissively.
Illunor approached the backseat expectantly and the door opened for him automatically, allowing the dlc kobold to gracefully enter and lounge across the length of the seats, once again ignoring the seatbelts. I sighed as I made my way to the driver’s seat, and Edhel entered from the passenger side as he marveled at the automatic doors and the interior.
“What a strange carriage this is! Although I must say, shouldn’t you be retrieving your horses? I didn’t see any harnesses or sense any artifices,” inquired Edhel as he attempted to make himself comfortable on the car seat, lute in front of him.
“Oh no, this thing doesn’t need horses or magic,” I said with a chuckle as EVI started the car. The elf raised his eyebrows at the sudden hum of the engine and made an expression of alarm when the car started driving itself without my input. “See, purrs like a kitten.”
“Earthrealm must have some large kittens if they purr like that,” noted Edhel, “but you must be concealing the enchantments somewhere. Such a thing as this with such strange yet precise craftsmanship is only possible in the crownlands.”
“Nope, no magic,” I said cheerfully.
“Then how?” Asked Edhel.
“It’s rather simple really. Are you familiar with the workings of a mill?” I asked, deciding to keep things surface level and elementary to avoid provoking the IDOV threshold.
“Somewhat, though I confess to not being familiar with their workings. Are you suggesting this is akin to a mill?” Asked Edhel perplexed.
“It’s the same principal. A mill works by taking a source of rotation such as a waterwheel or windmill, transferring that rotation along a series of rotating shafts and interlocking gears, and finally putting that energy to work by rotating a millstone,” I began as the car pulled out onto the smooth cobbled road in the direction of Elaseer. A notification popped up in the corner of my vision indicating my recon drone swarm had shifted from a holding formation to a convoy screening formation, and while the roads were clear I kept the speed at 60km/h to account for my passenger’s apparent distaste for seatbelts.
“Rotation…” muttered Edhel. He turned to face one of the wheels and EVI pinged an alert for a probable match for a detection spell, “fascinating.”
“Edhel, what are you doing?” I asked.
“Oh, yes, perhaps I should have asked first. Yes, I can see how it all fits together. But the source of this rotation? I see no mighty river or great wind to power this, so where does it come from?” Asked Edhel, not really apologizing. Elven arrogance, it seemed, was not limited by class.
The act reminded me of Sorecar when he inspected my gun, but where the armourer had been respectful with it, Edhel was more flippant. I considered the possibility that he was a spy sent by one of her peers or the crownlands, though this did not mesh with the methods I had seen so far. Edhel may have been just overly enthusiastic. In either case, I quickly decided to only reveal the antique design for the ethanol engine, and not that of the batteries or the emergency coupler to my suit’s fusion reactor.
“Right, well please ask first next time. As to your question, I won’t bore you with the details, but the rotation is generated by creating a periodic sequence of explosions inside of a machine – a manaless artifice – called a combustion engine, said Emma.
“So that’s what that sound is…” pondered Edhel, “are these artifices typical in Earthream?”
“You are awfully inquisitive for a commoner,” noted Illunor as he inspected his nails for dirt, “and rather accepting of something which should be impossible.”
“I wouldn’t be much of a bard if I wasn’t, my lord,” said Edhel shifting uncomfortably in his seat, “perhaps some music might set the mood better?”
“That would be preferable, bard. I have heard enough of the Earthrealmer’s Road Trip Playlist and would like to listen to some music of real culture,” said Illunor.
The bard agreed and proceeded to awkwardly play a ballad about an adventurer who slew a hydra in some frozen wasteland. Partway through, I politely interrupted the Edhel to point out the seat controls much to his fascination and Illunor’s grumbling at their common nature, and after some adjustment the bard went on playing and I half-heartedly listened while I paid attention to the road and my drone feed.
Particularly after EVI detected something unusual and alerted me to its presence.
”Attention Caded Booker. There is a disabled vehicle blocking the primary route to destination. Heat signatures in the woods are consistent with that of an ambush.”
“Damn it,” I muttered.
I glanced at the drone feed to see a broken cart strewn horizontally across a wooden bridge over a brook. On the surface it looked like a pair of civilians who required aid and assistance, but off in the woods were several heat signatures, several of which held weapons of varying levels of enchantments. Occasionally one of the pair on the bridge would talk with them, suggesting they were in cahoots rather than hostages. I recalled crossing that very bridge not a few hours earlier, so the blockade was very recent.
“EVI, did we pass that cart on the way here?” I asked.
”Negative,” replied EVI.
I grimaced. I had been trained to handle road-side ambushes, but it was only something that was a theoretical possibility. Something that should only occur in a warzone or a corrupt and unstable polity. I knew I had the capacity to handle such an encounter, even non-lethally, but that didn’t change the fact that these were civilians and as such were the responsibility of local law enforcement. Combined with the fact that I had passengers I was responsible for and engaging the ambush was a risky option.
“EVI, give me a list of alternative routes,” I commanded.
”Affirmative. Here is a list of routes in order of recommendation,” replied EVI.
I looked over the routes superimposed on a map of the region and quickly dismissed taking a shortcut through the forest and cutting through farmland. A detour caught my eye that extended the journey by roughly ten kilometers and I immediately sent a pair of drones to scout it out before committing to the detour.
“Are you alright, Cadet Emma Booker? You seem distracted,” asked Edhel, snapping me back to reality.
“Yeah, I’m fine. I’m just focused on driving,” replied Emma.
“I suppose it must be quite taxing to command an artificed carriage of this complexity. Perhaps it might ease your mind if you were to regale me a tale of a hero of your realm?” Said Edhel, strumming a complex tune from his lute as he spoke as each and every pluck triggered a low-level spell.
“Well, that may be a problem. We don’t have any monsters to fight, and wars are a thing of the past,” I said while desperately tip-toeing the subject of aunt Ran, the subject of war, and our voyages through the cosmos, “though we are not without the adventurous spirit. We certainly have many stories of grand voyages. Some mythical and fictional such as The Odyssey as told by the Greek poet Homer and some historical such as the race to the south pole.”
“The south pole,” muttered the bard, “so you have explored all of Earthrealm then? I suppose that makes some sense, if you have artifices such as this then traversal of a globe would be quite manageable.”
“You are quite perceptive,” I said, not wishing to elaborate.
“A great performer knows his audience,” said Edhel with a charming, honest, almost human smile.
I felt a pang of homesickness as an intrusive thought reminded me that I could have gone to a real college surrounded by friendly faces my age, engaging in nightly holostreams and dreaming of adventures in the stars from the safety of a college dorm room. The sight of Illunor in the rear camera was the only thing that kept me grounded, as I almost felt like I was back at home on a road trip rather than returning to a fantasy feudal court, constantly evading death at every turn with the fate of humanity on the line. As such, and prompted by EVI, I barely had the wherewithal to take the planned detour.
A fact which did not pass by Edhel.
“I believe you may have taken a wrong turn, Emma,” he commented.
“Nah, I’m just taking the scenic route. I came from that direction on the way here, and you have inspired me to see the other road and I figure it should only add a few extra minutes to our travel time,” I said, gesturing at a paper map which I had referenced exactly once, “though on that subject, you seem to know these lands quite well. Do you have any recommendations on places to visit in the Nexus to scratch that itch?”
Illunor raised his eyebrow at the detour excuse, knowing full well this was not part of the plan. I worried that he might complain about the issue and but thankfully remained silent as he snacked on the contents of the misused sample storage unit. Edhel himself took on a more pensive posture.
“I’m happy to have been such an inspiration, Emma, though I am sure an explorer such as yourself has little need of such. I would normally suggest the skyward fountains of Verdellan or the cloud tides of Asturia, but that may be too casual for someone of your calibre. Perhaps the severed chasm or the fire marsh of Bhandahova may be more to your liking. Or perhaps…” Edhel leaned in, “I have heard rumours of a dragon in the glassy obsidian wastes of Vurcanar.”
I chuckled at that, knowing how I was fortunate enough to fish a dragon scale out of the nearby lake for the ECS. “The thought of going dragon hunting had certainly crossed my mind…” I mused aloud.
“Yet you sound hesitant. Perhaps it is too much for a newrealmer. Perhaps a slime or a dire rat might be more appropriate,” he said with a tease.
“No, it’s not like that! It’s” I stammered, before attempting to change course after realizing I had been goaded, “what I mean is, I was under the impression that dragons were an endangered species. Where I come from, hunting endangered animals is usually illegal, and big game hunting in general is frowned upon. We do make exceptions in the case of problem animals such as if a large predator starts hunting humans, but as a rule we prefer conservation and try to find ways of coexisting with wildlife such as the use of barrier fences and scaring away dangerous animals rather than being forced to cull their numbers. Having a species go extinct would prevent future generations from appreciating them and risks destabilizing the ecosystem they are a part of. Now if this dragon was actively razing villages and eating civilians and livestock, that would be one thing, but this does not look to be the case. I don’t imagine the Nexus has any settlements in this wasteland, and the dragon clearly wants to be left alone. Killing an innocent dragon would be murder.”
I grinned to myself after delivering a diatribe that would have made my tenth grade social and environmental studies teacher beam with pride, though by the expressions of my passengers my view did not appear to be shared. Edhel’s mouth was agape in shock and fascination, while the Venurian in the back seat merely huffed in disapproval.
“I assure you Newrealmer, there are no innocent dragons,” stated Illunor with a hint of terseness breaking through his otherwise regal demeanor.
“Illunor, I understand that Venurians have personal reasons for not liking dragons, but you can’t just extend that disdain to their descendants or those uninvolved just because they are the same species,” I said.
“If I may interject on your behalf, my lord, I believe I can address Cadet Emma Booker’s concerns,” said Edhel with a bow. Illunor nodded in approval.
“Very well, you may proceed,” he said.
“Thank you, my lord. My dear Emma, you must understand that dragons are not simple animals driven entirely off of instinct as it appears to be the case in Earthrealm. They are monsters. Intelligent, long-lived, violent, greedy, cruel, territorial, selfish flesh-eating monsters. They are evil by the very nature of their being, unable to change by their own accord, and unwilling to change when His Eternal Majesty offered them freedom from their nature. It isn’t that they want to be evil. As intelligent animals – intelligent monsters – dragons are capable of understanding morality, and many have tried to overcome their evil nature at great expense to themselves. A well intended and noble sentiment, yet a doomed one as like all animals, they all succumb to their nature in the end. Overcoming one’s nature is impossible,” said Edhel. His eyes took on a stoic, almost remorseful gaze as he spoke, and Illunor nodded with approval.
I was appalled by this claim, not by the contents so much as how blatantly false it was. As a representative of the human race, I was a living counterexample to his whole argument. We had remained physiologically unchanged as a species since the last Ice Age, and yet in spite of that, in spite of our many flaws, we had found peace and balance. If we could do it, anyone could do it.
“Will all due respect Edhel, that is nonsense. Monsters aren’t born, they are made. It is the mark of any intelligent species can adapt their behaviour to their environment for better or worse, and under the right care any so-called monster can grow to be a force for good,” I began, but while I searched for the right words Edhel shook his head.
“I appreciate your race is an empathetic one, Emma, your idealism is unfounded. As flesh eaters, a dragon must take the life of another animal or person to survive, or they will perish. As such, every dragon has taken a life. As long-lived creatures, they will have amassed a significant number of kills. As the land can only support so much animals, a dragon must be fiercely territorial and aggressive to remove competition, lest they starve. As such, even the most kind-hearted dragon alive must be violent and greedy, and their intelligence fuels this even more so if they know a bountiful land of morsels exists just outside their range.
Now perhaps a multitude of dragons may find a way to co-exist together in some settlement, but to support such a venture would require a large territory of prey, or a livestock animal. Perhaps they could support a large colony by farming grain for their livestock, but that would require effort on their behalf. As large animals, such efforts require a great deal of energy. Yet that size makes it easy for them to intimidate smaller races to do their labour for them, and to keep their client race in line dragons must be cruel. And even so, as their numbers grow so do their needs. As such, they must expand into the lands of their neighbours to survive until there is nothing left to devour, at which point they must turn against their own lest they starve. As such, it is the nature of dragons to conquer and devour. That is why there is no such thing as an innocent dragon,” finished Edhel.
I was speechless, not because I believed Edhel had a point, but because I was horrified at how easy he found it to rationalize the extermination of an entire sapient species. If this was how the elves thought, then it wasn’t the dragons who were the monsters. I suppressed that dark thought. Edhel’s thought process was a product of his culture, not a feature of his elven heritage. If there was any hope of peace between our people, I needed to show him there was another way of being. I needed to prove that co-existence was possible, no matter one’s nature.
I took a deep breath to steady myself before replying.
“That- that is a callous way of seeing things,” I began, though the shock was still there in my voice, “you speak as though there is no natural equilibrium with a dragon, that their only state of being must be to be cruel, to devour, to conquer. But I see things differently. In fact, I might wonder if a fledgling civilization might see the presence of a dragon as a boon rather than a curse. Being intelligent, the locals may be able to come to some agreement with the dragon. Perhaps they might leave some land as a hunting ground or offer up a share of their cattle or guard the dragon as it sleeps. In exchange, the dragon might allow them to build a town outside its mountain and protect them in times of danger. An equitable exchange. A civilization might even create artificial lairs to attract dragons for this very reason. True, some dragons may behave tyrannical towards their town, but a well armed populace of a large city would be more than capable of fighting such a threat, and a rational dragon might reason that threatening their own populace would put their reliable source of food and shelter at risk. You see, it’s all a matter of perspective.”
“You certainly are an imaginative one, Emma, to wonder up a quixotic world where the hare and the fox live together in harmony as equals. Even so, you seem to have ignored one key detail to such a society. What would happen should the dragon not be fed for months on end?” Asked Edhel with his eyebrow raised.
“The same thing as stranded a dozen starving, stranded Elves!” I spat back.
[Alert: Vehicle speed above recommended limit for conditions. Recommendation: slow down. ]
“I am driving slow!” I seethed, not realizing I had sped up with manual control enabled.
“I grow tired of this common prattle,” interjected Illunor just in time to prevent an awkward silence, “bard, play us another song.” “As my lord wishes,” said Edhel with a bow before turning to me with another smile, “perhaps a more soothing melody would be in order? A love song perhaps, to honour Cadet Booker’s compassionate nature?”
I said nothing as Edhel began to strum his lute again to the tune of a love story of a pair of doomed lovers named Ramian and Junette, hating his cheeky knowing grin that only served to get under my skin further as I focused on calming down and slowing the car back to a more reasonable pace before investigating a priority alert which I had been blinded to moments prior.
[Alert: hostile roadblock is absent, location unknown.]
Shit.
“Illunor, we may have a problem,” I said.
“Shush, Newrealmer, have you no class? We are almost at the best part! I’m sure it can wait,” replied the contextually clueless lizard.
I had never wanted to throttle Illunor as much as I did now.
“Illunor, shield, now,” I said with a raised voice.
“I don’t see-“ he started, pausing mid-sentence as his ears perked up.
[Alert: Multiple manafield and spell signatures detected!]
I took evasive maneuvers as Illunor tried to piece together a shield spell, fumbling it twice as panic appeared to set in and providing me with a reminder that Illunor was a civilian, not a soldier. A hail of arrows pelted the exterior of the truck, piercing but not penetrating the composite armour. I was tempted to do nothing but just drive away from the arrow fire, but a foreboding premonition of danger filled me as I recalled Sorecar’s hunter-seeker arrows.
Seeking to avoid that fate, I triggered the active defenses.
The smoke screens deployed around the vehicle, obscuring the sight of any who depended on visible light to see me. A barrage of decoy flares equipped with wooden cores shot upward at angles and diffusing to the side like a pair of giant wings which when combined with the MFD, short for mana-field dampener, inside the vehicle meant that the pelting hail of arrowfire softened to a whirr as the arrows whiffed over the top of the truck, retargeted away from the soft flesh of my passengers and even invoking friendly fire amongst the ambushers.
In the chaos, EVI and my drone swarm fed me complete tactical information on the ambush. Of the 26 individuals at the first blockade, 20 were accounted for, and 3 had died from friendly fire. Ahead at the bridge, 5 more of them were at the bridge where a barrier had been hastily erected to cage me in as the river valley was too deep to cross.
“Illunor, we need a bridge,” I said, taking stock of the wellbeing of my passengers.
The bard was huddled down low and suppressing his manafield, but otherwise rather composed. Illunor, on the other hand, was cowering in the gap between the seats with his hands covering his eyes and his tail tucked in.
“A bridge is no small request, Ne- Cadet Emma Booker,” replied Illunor, “and your ‘Emeffdee’ has blinded me to the outside of this moving death trap.”
“If I drop it, can you at least make a ramp?” I asked as I circled the battlefield. Or tried to, at least, as earthen ramparts emerged from the ground from a yet unseen source to cut off other avenues of escape.
“A ramp? Surely you don’t mean-“ he stammered.
“Yes or no,” I said.
Illunor paused, before taking an unsteady breath.
“Yes. But not with that Emeffdee,” he replied.
“Good. Steady your nerves and prepare to make a ramp ahead of us on my signal,” I said, “in the meantime, get your seatbelt on. This is going to be hairy.”
As I circled around to make my approach on the bridge, the final combatant made his appearance on a nearby tree, revealing himself as an elven mage. An alert focused on the air around him indicating he was preparing an unknown high-tier spell, and I locked the predator drone on him indicating the elf as a high-priority target if our escape plan failed, and I was forced to use lethal force.
If I was forced to kill.
It was one thing to know you may have to kill in the line of duty, but it was much harder to reconcile that with reality. No number of simulations could match the real thing, and a part of me wanted to simply offload the responsibility to EVI to keep my hands clean, but to do that would be betraying my duty as a human being. I breathed in deep and tried not to think about it, instead hoping to rely on the ace I held in my sleeve instead.
“EVI, ready the spell jammer,” I said unevenly.
“Acknowledged, the prototype Exo-Radiation Wave-Field Distruptor is primed. High risk target identified and locked, permission to engage?” EVI asked, forcing me to address the dreaded question.
“Negative,” I replied, “hold your fire. If the ramp fails, then you have permission to engage,” I said.
“Affirmative, on your mark,” replied EVI.
I lined up the truck with the bridge and bolted through the smoke, keeping a careful eye on the mage as I went. His spellform took on a more concerning shape as I accelerated, and I realized I could not afford to let him finish his spell. I triggered the spelljammer.
A terrible roar erupted from an array of speakers printed from mana-resistant materials that would have made Godzilla herself beam with pride. The sound was decidedly unnatural, gnarly, dubstep drop composed of an electric eel, a whale, a mountain lion, and a tyrannosaurus rex all being simultaneously assaulted by a swarm of angry cybernetic murder hornets as an equally chaotic wave of mana blasted outwards from the exterior of the truck, with the interior thankfully sheltered by audio and mana dampening.
The ambushing assailants cowered and panicked, and it was enough to cause the Elven mage’s spell to backfire in his face as his form exploded into ashes, meeting a horrific fate which I had tried so desperately to help him avoid. With all the combatants momentarily incapacitated or dead, I lowered the dampener and turned off the smoke.
“Ramp!” I shouted, snapping the lizard back to reality.
The Venerian nodded and hastily formed an earthwork ahead of us right before the blockade, and the truck leapt off the ramp with a not insignificant amount of air beneath our wheels. I braced for impact, regretting skimping on the shocks in the name of preserving materials, but the impact never came.
[Alert: Friendly spell designated ‘Feather Fall’]
Illunor thankfully had enough wherewithal to gently land the steel brick, and I sped off into the distance away from the trap that had unfolded behind us, leaving the interior of the truck in an awkward silence as we each processed our brush with death in our own way. “How many are dead?” I asked EVI.
“6 hostiles confirmed dead,” replied EVI.
I drove on in silence. Those were six deaths I had tried to avoid, and I became lost in thought as I wondered what I should have done differently to avoid the confrontation entirely.
Edhel broke the silence with a bout of laughter.
“Terrific! Absolutely terrific! Why, I can conjure up many a tale from this encounter alone! I live for this kind of inspiration!” Exclaimed Edhel a little too chipperly considering the circumstance.
“I would rather not hear stories about how I bravely ran away,” I moaned in deadpan sarcasm.
“You think too little of yourself, Cadet Emma Booker. It is plain to me that you are no ordinary rabbit. Make no mistake, I see it as a privilege to bear witness to the roar of a vorpal hare!” Said Edhel as he supressed his laughter, “though I am afraid with all the excitement that I must finish my song some other time.”
“How about I play some of our music?” I offered after the elf revealed his thrill-seeking side.
“Splendid, I would like that. Perhaps something of your ‘Roadtrip playlist’ you speak of? It sounds like a collection of your voyages,” said Edhel.
“That would be an improvement on the truth,” said Illunor dismissively as he eased from his state of shock, “it is little more than noise under the pretense of music.”
“Illunor…” I muttered to myself before turning the mic on, “no, no it’s not like that. I have terabytes of pre-recorded songs from various artists back home which can be played by… an artifice called a speaker. A playlist is a set of songs which are grouped together, usually to listen to in specific situations such as studying, partying, or travelling. The latter collection is what Illunor is referring to.”
I very deliberately chose not to reveal my ‘Unfortunate Daughters’ playlist.
“An artifice which plays music, and a magicless one at that. I must say, Emma, I fear for the bards in your realm,” said Edhel with a laugh.
“Your fear is misplaced, Edhel. Entertainers live like kings where I come from,” I retorted with a smirk of my own, “well, the ones with talent at least.”
“Well, well, I suppose I have to hear my competition!” Said Edhel with a laugh.
“Do as you must, though let it be known that I warned you,” said Illunor as he watched a play on his sightseer.
I had EVI compile a list of songs that left out content offensive to Nexian sensibilities or violating OpSec and as it compiled I mused over what type of sample spread I wanted to show off. Then it struck me. What better way to show off our culture than with some good old blue jumpers and nova rock! Sadly, jumpers were unavailable to show but I still had a whole list of modern artists to choose from.
Moments later, the car speakers sprung to life to the tune of ‘Innocent Youth of Mine. Edhel’s eyes lit up like a child visiting a zero-g gravity park for the first time, seemingly star-struck by the antique electric guitar and the synthesizer-drums in particular.
“What… what is this? I have never heard anything like this!” Proclaimed Edhel.
“Dreadful, isn’t it?” said Illunor, doing what he did best and pretending to hate it.
“Oh there is a lot more where that came from,” I said with a cheeky grin of my own, “this one is called ‘Innocent Youth of Mine’ by ‘Cannons and Poppies’. It’s part of the Nova Rock genre.
“And those strange instruments?” Asked Edhel.
“Oh, you mean the electric guitar and the synthesizer. They are electronic instruments, taking advantage of channeled and modulated electricity to create near any sound we can imagine,” I replied.
“Channeled electricity… are you suggesting these sounds were made by some form of lightning?” Asked Edhel.
[Suggestion: Avoid topic of electricity due to OpSec risk]
I nodded at EVI’s warning, thankful that it caught me before I discussed the very thing that all of my equipment ran on.
“It’s not exactly lightning, but close enough,” I said.
“If I had not witnessed to your display of power earlier, I might have perhaps been more skeptical of such a claim, but I suppose a lady must keep her secrets.” said Edhel with a raised eyebrow and chuckle, “but I digress, this music is most interesting.”
“There is a lot more where that came from,” I said with a cheeky grin of my own.
“If I ever have a prisoner in need of torture, I will turn to you first,” replied Illunor, “if you are willing to subject your peers to this madness then I cannot imagine what you would force upon your enemies before dunking them in ice.”
“In your dreams,” I retorted.
I played a few other songs including Astrodesee’s ‘Meteor Struck’, the Martian classic ‘Hotel Cydonia’ and even ‘Switching to Warp’ before Elaseer emerged from the distance, and I pulled up outside the gate to drop Edhel off.
“Here already?” Asked Edhel.
“Well, yeah. I was just running a quick errand, I didn’t want to go too far,” I replied casually.
“That was a distance worth at least five days of walking by foot, and you call that a ‘quick errand’?” Asked Edhel. I shrugged, and he laughed.
“Well in any case, thank you for allowing me passage in your car. I must apologize for my lack of gift or payment…” said Edhel. “Don’t worry about it, it was on the way,” I replied.
“I see, how generous. Perhaps we might one day meet again?” Asked Edhel.
“Maybe, but I’m not sure how likely that is. The academy takes up most of my time,” I replied, “though you never know. I still have a lot of quest hours to complete.”
“Is that so? In that case, I hope we meet again! Goodbye Cadet Emma Booker and farewell Lord Illunor Rularia,” he said. “And good travels to you, bard,” said Illunor.
I waved off Edhel and drove back to the academy, Illunor still sulking in the back seat.
“Perhaps next time, you should steer us away from danger?” Suggested Illunor.
“I tried, but we were tracked,” I replied.
I groaned inwardly at the additional work needed to fix the truck. EVI compiled a list of upgrades for future engagements, batting away my idea for a ‘turbo mode’ and a ‘jump boost’. Though at the end of the day, meeting the bard wasn’t a complete loss. It felt good to talk to someone almost normal for once, and I hoped I met him again.
Edhel Redoehdelnif
I watched as Cadet Emma Booker’s vehicle went off into the distance, getting one last look at the Earthrealmer’s strange artifice before turning towards the gate. The voyage was an exotic experience, not unlike that of a fever dream or a peak into a world completely alien to my own. Indeed, it was a struggle to contain my excitement and enthusiasm and process the experience rationally as I made my way through the southern gates of Elaseer and turned the corner of an alley before entering an impossible structure that did not exist.
“You are earlier than expected,” said the shadowy figure of my handler as I made my way to the meeting hall.
“The Earthrealmer’s means of transportation proved far more expedient than anticipated, my lord” I spoke as I knelt before him, “even with her unexpected departure from the anticipated road and the ambush we traveled for scantly more than an hour.”
“Yes, I will require a full report from you. Perhaps you can shed some light on the ‘smoke dragon’ my men claim intervened on the Earthrealmer’s behalf,” said my handler.
“Smoke Dragon, my lord?” I asked.
My handler responded by activating his sight-seer, revealing how the ambush had appeared from the outside. The Earthrealmer’s uncanny artifice traversed down the road, a pair of manafields displaying proudly from within until the archers began their assault. The artifice then transformed as smoke billowed out from its pores and wings sprung forth above until it was the form of a mighty wrym with a pair of glowing eyes springing forth from its ever extending head where it then gave forth a terrible unholy roar which sent waves of mana outward. The mage working to seal the area and trap their mark vapourized in an instant as his spell backfired. It was apparent to Edhel that his exceptional experience in the carriage was merely a muted rendition of the events unfolding around them.
It would seem the hare had the shadow of a dragon.
“I do have some insight, though I must confess the Earthrealmer did very little in the way of direct action. I suspect she has some unseen means of commanding and scrying through her artifices,” I said, “one which does not utilize magic as we know it.”
“Such a statement is heresy,” said my handler, “but such special circumstances are your reason for being. I will require you submit your memories for verification. What is your appraisal of the new realmer?”
“The girl is far more dangerous than a surface appraisal would suggest, though she prefers to conceal that power rather than utilize it out of a misplaced sense of compassion. Her people appear to have a boundless creative drive through which such artifices are birthed, though again it is misdirected towards more common applications. I believe that if properly tamed, this human animal may provide us with great works of art,” I said with a bow.
“I see. Does the girl know you work for us?” Asked my handler.
“She may harbour some suspicions, though did not voice them outright beyond concealing her knowledge,” I said, “though nothing significant. Provided our next meet is under believable circumstances such as a festival she should view me as cordial.”
“She has indeed proven clever,” conceded my handler, “very well, I will make arrangements for your paths to cross again. Perhaps I will arrange for her to be a contestant at the next inter-academy tournament. In the mean time, prepare your report and don’t wander far. This is a priority assignment.”
“As you wish, my lord,” I said with a bow and a smile.
Emma Booker had proved to be an interesting animal indeed, and I hoped our paths crossed again.

TW, I do talk about my abuse and trauma in this, mostly about verbal and medical neglect.
It's almost like my family knows what they're doing to me. It's honestly frustrating. I'm almost always the one being neglected or ignored in conversations or at family events. And yeah, they were the ones that basically caused this damn disorder, it makes sense! But they apparently don't even know why I want to move into the college dorms so badly this fall???? How do they not see that I'm actively trying to not be around them specifically for extended periods of time???
I've always been the one my family put down and at this point I never know if I'm splitting on them or if the anger, abandoned, frustration, and stress I feel about/from them is actually rational. Because of that, it's honestly made me so confused with my own splits on my FP(who also has bpd). I feel like I'm going fucking insane at this point.
My family has always triggered me, but ever since starting medication back in February, I've noticed that they trigger me even more than before. I'm not as triggered with my FP, which is honestly a great thing! I haven't had any huge, explosive splits on them since starting my meds. But my family though? I fucking hate them. The parents that I live with have no regard for my food sensitivities(both in terms of the few allergies I have and also for sensory reasons(I'm also autistic btw)) and taste. And my mom(I don't live with her) thinks its a great idea to have 13(now 12) animals in her small-ass duplex and lets her new great dane "puppy" piss and shit everywhere and terrorize(not play) the cats. I literally had to grab my cat from there and now one of my friends are looking over her for a few months. Thank god.
My parents always hound on me for not having a job since August of last year, despite the fact that I've been applying for and interviewing for jobs actively since then! It's literally not my fault that the only "job" I have right now is Door Dash, which makes me constantly spend more money on gas than I can actually save up. Not to mention, it burnt me out pretty quickly after doing it for two months! They always try to "help" by sending me job listings, 99% of them I've either applied to or literally won't be able to do physically due to also being physically disabled! Which brings me to my next thing!
They have absolutely no fucking regard for my physical and mental health at fucking all. They simply think I just have depression and anxiety and thats it. They don't want to even believe that I'm autistic and have ADHD, BPD(which I basically refuse to tell them about, but I'm tempted so they learn how it's caused so they see just how much they fucked me up), DID, and maybe even Schizoaffective Disorder, which I'm still trying to work out with my therapist if that's another thing wrong with me or not. My parents don't want to even believe that I have POTs or dysautonomia of any kind, hypermobility, Ehlers Danlos Syndrome, etc. They don't even believe me when I'm telling them that my vision is getting fucked because it's getting worse way too rapidly for someone my age(21) when there's literally a whole family history of this shit on my mom's side! Not to mention, we know jack shit about my grandmother's physical and mental health related shit on my fraternal side except for that she died of cancer in 2006! My parents refused to do any medical shit for me as a kid and still do now. All they would do was take me to my yearly checkup, the dentist once a year(when you're supposed to go like 2 times a year) and the eye doctor once a year. They don't take me seriously at all. When I was 11, I literally almost died from the fucking flu because of them! They made me stay at home while they went to my sister's band concert. Meanwhile, I couldn't fucking breathe and started choking on my own damn mucus for multiple minutes straight. I was fucking terrified. Now I'm always scared whenever I get sick, even if it isn't as serious as what I had went through. There's a reason why I'm not going to be seeing the family optometrist after my most recent appointment. Every medical or mental health professional that my parents would make me go to would gaslight me or brush me off.
Their negligence still holds up today too! And thats what fucking pisses me off! They helped my siblings pay for things for college but refuse to help me because "I didn't do well in high school, so it wouldn't really be a good idea to spend money on you because we know you're not going to do well in classes." What the fuck???? Maybe the reason why I didn't do well in school before is because y'all didn't LET me have any accommodations, refused to get me tested for literally anything, always put me down, and fucking verbally abused and neglected me 24/7! Just a month ago, I got into an argument with my stepmom and she legit told me, "Well, you don't have a job and I just want you to have a purpose in life." Why would you say that to someone?! Let alone your own kid?!
Oh don't get me fucking started on the younger of my two stepsisters(the older one hasn't done shit to me. She's the only one I'm not triggered by.) and how she has lied about me to my parents, aided/aids in my abuse, etc. She basically gets all the love and attention from my parents. They encourage her to do things, to live her best life, etc.
I don't even know if what I'm feeling right now is me splitting on my family or justifiable anger. All I know is that I'm upset with them and that I don't want to live in this damned house anymore. I've been wanting to leave it for years now but was always held back from it for one reason or another. I'm fucking upset.

I appreciate all the information I have gathered from all of you. I would like to share my story and I have a few questions. I'm 37 and I'm a male. In January this year my right ankle was bothering me. I have broken it before and had to have surgery. I work out 5-6 days a week usually being running, peloton, kettlebells, and rowing. So my ankle hurting wasn't a huge deal to me because l'm constantly over using them. But this one day in January my right ankle felt like I sprained it. I woke up the next morning and couldn't walk. The pain was horrible and it felt like my foot got hit with a sledge hammer. I knew I did not injure my ankle in a way to cause that much pain. Gout popped into my head cause my dad has it. I went to my GP doctor and got my UA tested and he gave me naproxen. I was already coming down from the worst part of the pain and took the naproxen. My ankle felt better within 24 hours and I was getting around. Life was back to normal. My UA level was 5.6 and my doctor said I didn't have gout and it must have been an injury.
Fast forward to this week. I have been back to working out regularly and doing the normal stuff I do. But over the last month now my left ankle has been bothering me. Nothing crazy but hurting while working out. I thought it was overuse again since I was told I didn't have gout. I was on the peloton Monday and was doing a hill ride. About 20 minutes into the ride my ankle started to hurt worse then it had in this past month. I woke up the next day limping a little. I didn't think much of it again. I went to go for a run and had to stop after just a few steps cause of the pain. I played football and basketball in HS and it was during a time when you just played through injuries using tape and red hot. I know this is very dumb especially since I'm 37 now. Anyway, I was woken up in the middle of the night with unbelievable pain in my left ankle. I couldn't walk and was screaming in pain. I took some naproxen I had from January and it did nothing. I fought through the day and I really thought I messed my ankle up. I got into podiatrist Thursday and my X-rays were negative. He didn't believe it was gout cause of my January bloodwork. He ordered me an MRI and got me a walking boot. He also ordered another UA lab to rule out gout. I made it to the end of the day wearing the boot and my pain got worse.I called the Docs office on Friday and told him what was going on. He looked at my chart and my UA was 6.7. He now believed it was a strong possibility of gout. He got me a script for methylprednisolone which I started this morning. I'm already noticing a difference in my ankle. I'm going for the MRI on Tuesday to rule out an injury. So I have a few questions from here.
Does gout linger around causing 1-2 levels of pain for weeks before the actual attack? Everything I read seems like it just comes out of no where.
My dad has been on gout medication for 20 years and hasn't had a flair up since going on it he says. So l'm totally ready to get on Allo or another medication. I want to make sure something like this is more unlikely to happen. So my question is what medication are kept around for flares ups and I guess you would call them full on attacks? When do I know when to start taking the medication before a flair up?
My daughter and I love hiking. We travel often and do a lot of long day hikes into the mountains and deserts. I now have a fear of this happening while on a long hike on the top of a mountain. Anyone enjoy hiking or backpacking while having gout? How do you plan for it?
Thank you any advice you can give