Lately I've been shocked by the difference between Palestinian messaging and how it is understood in the west. In their original 1988 charter, Hamas clearly lays out their goal of annihilating Israel and Jews through Jihad (Islamic Holy War).

'Israel will exist and will continue to exist until Islam will obliterate it, just as it obliterated others before it.' (Preamble)
'The Day of Judgment will not come about until Moslems fight Jews and kill them. Then, the Jews will hide behind rocks and trees, and the rocks and trees will cry out: 'O Moslem, there is a Jew hiding behind me, come and kill him.' (Article 7)
'The day the enemies usurp part of Moslem land, Jihad becomes the individual duty of every Moslem. In the face of the Jews' usurpation, it is compulsory that the banner of Jihad be raised.' (Article 15)

The magnitude of this anti-Jew and anti-Israel ideology is such that it is a core part of Palestinian youth education and media. There are many examples, but here are just a few. The first two would be humorous if they weren't so diabolical.
Hamas Mickey Mouse
Gazan Kindergarten Graduation Ceremony
Jews are barbaric apes
This propaganda has real-world effects. Dozens of Palestinian children are used as suicide bombers. To me, this might take the cake for some of the most ugly and perverse actions I've ever seen. I'd encourage people to read through this page if any.
Hamas's actions are in line with their stated aims. On October 7, Hamas and Gazan civilians can be seen celebrating over dead Israeli bodies. One video shows Gazans cheering, dancing, and spitting on dead naked Israeli woman, reflecting the fact that systemic rape on Oct 7 occurred. Over 70% of Palestinians support the actions on Oct 7. Hamas has promised to repeat Oct 7 again and again.
We also see this ideology reflected in the Palestinian Authority's "Pay for Slay", a fund that pays West Bank Palestinians a stipend for committing terrorism against Israel.
The point of sharing these things is not to demonize Palestinians or make any type of justification. The point is that in the west, we mistranslate this conflict into a framework that we comprehend and sympathize with. For most westerners, it's difficult to commiserate with religious fundamentalists and accept that they might want different things than we do (such as using billions of dollars in aid for terrorism instead of infrastructure). SJP would have you believe that Hamas wants to "decolonize" Palestine and Oct 7 was "resistance". Israel is the "white" oppressor, and Palestine is the oppressed--a framework we are all too familiar with. We assume that Hamas wants coexistence, when their words and actions have shown the opposite.
The "From the river to the sea" chant was created in the 60s and has historically been used by Hamas among other groups as a call to destroy Israel. A variation of the phrase in Arabic is "From the river to the sea, Palestine will be Arab". Yet in the west we associate the phrase with Palestinian "liberation", a concept that we can relate to. Consider the absurdity of someone waving a swastika and claiming that it's a Buddhist good fortune symbol. But this is essentially happening at colleges across the US, along with intifada chants. Israel's conduct in the war, modern settlements, and the failures of the Israeli government are different topics--I just wanted to elucidate how westerners downplay religious and ideological factors, despite Hamas themselves displaying their intent to destroy Israel and Jews.

"You gotta know that there's an art to it, Ezra," Hitch said, cutting another piece of duct tape.
The sleeves of his weather-beaten coat were shoved all the way up his arms, to stop the fabric from falling over his knuckles while he was working, and goosebumps lined his skin. He was strapping a rubber chicken to the back of his truck, over the lens of the shattered backup camera, with the legs pointing down so that they hung a couple inches above the ground. There were dents in the hood from the crash last week, and scratches along the door from scraping into a curb. The chicken, hopefully, would keep him from breaking anything else.
"You can't go cheap," Hitch said. "The cheap rubber chickens only make noise when pressure lets go. That's no good. As soon as I back up into something, I want this chicken to be screaming like it’s in the depths of hell."
“Sure thing,” I said in a monotone, leaning against the side of the truck.
There were scrambled electronic parts piled in the back of the truck, the innards of a radio, a broken computer, tangled wires, a couple loose pairs of earbuds. He found the parts in alleyways or bummed them off his friends for a couple bucks or stole them from the vacation homes that were left empty for most of the year. Then he sold them for a profit at the scrapyard. Hitch had bounced between minimum-wage jobs for a while after high school, spending a couple months as a bagger at the grocery store or as a seasonal worker at the farm two hours down the highway. He'd never stuck with it. At the very least, the scrapyard got him enough money to eat and occasionally spend a night in a motel when he got tired of sleeping in his car.
Hitch pressed the last piece of tape in place and grinned up at me. "I've got something for you, duck."
The nickname came from when I’d broken my leg as a child and waddled around in a cast until it was healed. I hated it with a burning passion, and I glared at Hitch with the ease of twenty-one years of practice. He had a duck tattoo at the base of his thumb that he’d gotten in a back-alley shop as a teenager. He said that he’d gotten it to remind him of me, and the fact that I hated the nickname was just a bonus. It was shaky-lined, with an uneven face, but he loved it anyway.
The handle stuck when Hitch tried to open the door, a consequence of the rust collecting in the crevices of the car and running down the sides like blood from a cut. The car groaned when the door finally popped open, a metal against metal screech that had me flinching away. Hitch dug through the cluttered fast food containers in the passenger-side footwell, eventually coming up with a crinkly paper bag. He waved away the flies buzzing around the opening of the bag and held it out to me.
The last time Hitch had brought me food, I’d gotten food poisoning because he’d left it out in the midday sun for two days. The donut was squished slightly, and the icing was stuck to the bag. I still ate it, grimacing at the harsh citrus flavor. Taking Hitch’s food was an instinct engraved from the days when Dad had given us a can of kidney beans for dinner and Hitch had drank the juice, leaving the beans for me.
I rarely went hungry anymore, three mostly square meals a day and granola in my pockets just in case, but habits didn’t die easy.
These days, Hitch only brought me food when he wanted my help, like when he saw a place he wanted to hit but was worried about doing it alone.
I got in the car, like I always did.
We drove past the cluster of seafood-themed restaurants with chipped paint decks, the beachfront park where there were always shifty-eyed men sitting under the slide, the single room library where all the books had been water damaged in the flood last year. The change was quick as we drove across Main Street, heading closer to the beach. The roads were freshly paved, the concrete a smooth black except where the sun had already started to pick away at it. The three-story homes lining the sides of the street were crouched on elegant stilts, with space underneath for a car or three. Most of the garages were empty, with the lights off and curtains drawn in the house. Come summer, the streets would be swarming with tourists and vacationers, but until then, most of the buildings nearest to the beach were unoccupied.
Hitch stopped as the sun started to go down at a house that was leaning precariously out towards the beach, tilted ever so slightly, the edge of its foundation buried in the shifting sand of the beach. It certainly looked deserted, with an overgrown yard and blue paint peeling off the door in sheets.
Hitch took his hammer out of the backseat, hoisting it over his shoulder. It was two feet of solid metal with rags wrapped around the head to muffle the sound of the hits. Hitch squared up, bending his knees and holding the hammer like a baseball bat. Before he could swing, though, the door creaked open on its own, the hinges squeaking. The house beyond was dark enough that I could only make out general shapes, glimpsing the curve of a sofa to the left, what was maybe the shimmer of a chandelier on the other side.
Hitch lowered his hammer, looking vaguely disappointed that he didn’t get to use it. “That’s…weird as hell.”
“Maybe the deadbolt broke, maybe they forgot to lock it, it doesn’t matter,” I hissed, checking our surroundings for other people again. “Just hurry up and get inside before someone calls the cops.”
Hitch flicked the lightswitch on the wall, and the lights flickered on. They were dim, buzzing audibly and blinking off occasionally. The walls were plastered with contrasting swatches of wallpaper and splattered with random colors. There was neon orange behind the dining table, a galaxy swirl in the kitchen, and on the ceiling there was a repeating floral pattern covered in nametag stickers. Each of the stickers was filled out with The Erlking. Chandeliers hung in every room, three or four for each, and rubber ducks sat on every table. A miniature carousel sat in the corner along with a towering model rocket.
Sand was heaped on every surface, at least a couple inches everywhere. It was piled in the corners and stuck to the walls, and it covered the floor in a thick blanket. Our hesitant steps into the house left footprints clearly outlined in the sand.
Hitch took a cursory look around and headed immediately for the TV mounted on the wall. “Look out the windows and tell me if anyone is coming.”
I shook the sand out of the blinds and pulled them open, then had to brush sand off of the window before I could see anything.
Hitch was quick, practiced at finding and appropriating the things that were worth taking. He came back to me with an armful of electronics and chandeliers, dumping it at my feet before turning to head deeper into the house again.
There was a thump, somewhere upstairs, and then footsteps, slow and deliberate. Hitch froze at the threshold of the room, then ran for the door with me just ahead of him, sand flying out from under our feet.
My hand was almost brushing the doorknob, close enough that I could see the light from the streetlamp outside streaming in through the cracks in the door. My fingers touched the wood and it gave under my touch, becoming malleable and warm. I yelped, stumbling backwards, and the door started to melt. The paint ran down in thick drops, pooling at the bottom of the door, and the wood warped like metal being welded. The soft edges of the door ran into the walls until there was no sign of an exit ever being there.
“Well, well, well,” said a cultured voice with just an edge of snooty elitism. “What do we have here?”
The man was well over eight feet tall, with long black hair covering his eyes. He was wearing a yellow raincoat with holes cut out of the hood to accommodate the deer antlers jutting upwards from his head. There was sand settled on his shoulders and hovering around his head like a halo.
“Who the fuck are you?” Hitch said, inching towards a window.
He smiled, just a little bit, and his teeth shone in the dim light. “I am the Erlking.”
Hitch nodded, and seemed about to respond. I grabbed him by the hand and pulled him towards the window. I could feel sand in the wind roaring against my back as the Erlking growled in anger, the grains scraping harshly against my cheeks.
We were almost to the window when Hitch was ripped away from me, and I came to a startled halt. The sand had formed long grasping arms that pressed Hitch against the floral wallpaper. His wrists were held tight, and as I watched, a sandy hand wrapped around his mouth and forced its way between his teeth. He gagged, and sand trickled out of the corners of his mouth.
The Erlking strolled towards him, not seeming to be in any sort of rush. “You know, I’m not very fond of your yapping.”
He made an idle gesture and the sand wrapped around my ankles, tethering me in place.
“I yap all the time,” Hitch said. “Three-time olympic yapper, that’s me. Best to just let me go now and save yourself some trouble.”
The Erlking tapped a manicured nail against Hitch’s mouth, hard enough to hurt, judging by the way he flinched away. “But why would I ever let you go when I’ve gone to this much trouble to catch you and your sister? It’s so hard, these days, to find people that no one will miss.”
Hitch struggled against the sand, trying to escape and failing. “What do you want with us, then? You just said it, we’re nobody.”
“I’m fae, dear one,” the Erlking said. “I get my power from my followers. And I think that you two will make lovely additions to my flock.”

He flicked Hitch's nose and Hitch gasped. Feathers started to form on his arms, popping out from under his skin in a spray of blood.
Hitch pushed off the wall, using his bound hands as a fulcrum, and his knees crashed into the Erlking’s stomach. The Erlking fell backwards, wheezing, and the sand around my ankles loosened.
Hitch made desperate eye contact with me as feathers shot up his neck and jerked his head towards the window. The message was obvious. Run.
The last thing I saw before crashing out the window and into freedom was Hitch’s body twisting, his arms wrenching into wings and feathers covering every inch of his skin. By the time I landed on the concrete outside, he was a small black bird, held tightly in the Erlking’s hands. The whole building was sinking into the ground, burnished-gold sand piling up over top and streaming from the windows.
Thirty years later, I saw Sam’s Supernatural Consultation and Neutralization written in neat, looping handwriting on a piece of paper taped to the door. The tape was peeling at the corners and the paper was yellowed with age, but there was obviously care put into the sign, in its perfectly centered text and looping floral designs drawn over the edges in gold marker.
I knocked, hesitantly, drawing my woolen coat closer around my shoulders. I’d bought it as a fiftieth birthday gift for myself, and I took comfort in the heavy weight of it over my shoulders.
“Coming!” someone called from within the depths of the office.
There were a couple crashes, and the sound of paper shuffling. Eventually, the door was opened by a young woman with ketchup stains on her shirt and pencils stuck through her hair.
“Hi, I’m Sam, I specialize in supernatural consultation and hunting, how may I help you today?” Sam said, customer-service pep in her voice. She stood in the doorway, solidly blocking entry into the office.
“My name is Ezra, I’m for a consultation. I emailed you but you didn’t respond?” I shifted in place, suddenly feeling awkward.
“Oh! Yeah, I lost the password for the email ages ago. Sorry for the bad welcome, I get lots of people thinking I’m crazy or pulling a prank and harassing me.”
She ushered me into the office, clearing papers off one of the chairs to make room for me to sit down. There was a collection of swords along one wall, all of them polished to perfection, several with deep knicks in the metal which indicated that they’d been used heavily.
“So what can I help you with?” Sam asked again, more sincere this time.
“Thirty years ago, my brother was turned into a bird,” I started. I’d told this story so many times that it barely felt ridiculous to say anymore. I was used to the disbelieving looks, the careful pity. But Sam just nodded along, face open and welcoming.
“I’ve almost given up on finding him, at this point,” I said. “But I saw your ad in the newspaper, and…here I am, I suppose.”
“Here you are,” Sam echoed, smiling. She pulled one of the pencils out of her hair and took a bit of paperwork off of one of her stacks, turning it over so that the blank side sat neatly in front of her. “Tell me everything.”
I told Sam everything, and she wrote it all down, pencil scratching along the paper.
The last part of the story was always the hardest to tell. “I left him there. I ran and I didn’t look back.”
I had been to dozens of detectives and investigators over the years, once the police had dropped Hitch’s case. I’d been to professional offices with smartly-dressed secretaries and met scraggly men in coffee shops. All of them had given me the same look, pity and annoyance all mixed up into a humor-the-crazy-lady soup. Sam, though, just seemed thoughtful.
Sam leaned forward and put a hand over mine, carefully, like she thought that I would pull away. “Sometimes you have to leave people behind.”
I tightened her hold on Sam’s hand and drew it towards me, like I could make Sam listen if only I squeezed tight enough. “But that’s why I’m here. I don’t want to leave him behind.”
“Okay then. I’ll do my best to help you.” Sam agreed, finally. Then she paused, and said softly, “You know…I think I met your brother once. He might have saved my life. He’s certainly why I started in this business.”
“Really? What happened?” I asked.
This is the story that Sam told me, related to the best of my abilities:
It was a new moon, so the only illumination came from the stars gazing idly down and distant porch lights shining across the scraggly brush of the dunes. Sam’s neighbors were decent people who cared about baby turtles, so the lights were a low, unobtrusive red, and the ocean sloshed like blood. Sam walked on the beach almost every night, drawing back the gauzy pink curtains and clambering out her bedroom window. She didn’t often bother to be quiet; her mama worked the late shift and came home exhausted. As long as Sam got home before the sun, her mama would never find out that she paced the shoreline and dreamed of inhaling sand until her lungs became their own beach.
The sky was lightening. The sun would come up soon, and that meant Sam’s time on the beach was over. She needed to get back to her real life, go to her fifth grade class and stop that nonsense, as her mother would say. Her mother loved to say things like that, pushing Sam into her proper place by implication alone.
“She’s a good kid, of course, but she’s a bit…” Her mother would trail off there, usually getting a commiserating expression from whoever she was talking to. Sam always wondered how that sentence would have finished. She’s a bit strange, maybe. She’s a bit intense. She’s a bit abrasive. She’s quiet enough but when Jason tried to steal her pencil in math class, she stabbed him in the hand so hard that the lead tattooed him.
Her mother was better, for the most part. The days of her stocking up the fridge, and leaving a post-it note on the counter, and leaving for days at a time were gone. But Sam still stepped around the place on the kitchen tile where her mother had collapsed and caved her head in, even though the bloodstains had been replaced with new tile.
“Your auntie got an abortion, you know,” her mother had said from her place on the couch, slurring her words. “Pill in the mail and then bam, no more baby.”
She had clapped her hands together to illustrate her point. Her mother jerked forward and grabbed Sam by the wrist, then, staring up at her until Sam met her eyes.
“I love you, you know? But sometimes I wonder…” She settled back onto the couch. “Yeah. I wonder.”
She’d gotten up, then, back to the kitchen. She’d been stumbling, a shambling zombie of a woman. The ground in the entryway of the kitchen was raised, ever so slightly, and her mother went down hard. Her head cracked against the tile, chin first, and she didn’t move.
Sam had been the one to call the ambulance. She had stared at the scattering of loose teeth on the ground while she waited, and considered what her life would be like with a dead mom. Not so bad, she thought, and immediately felt guilty for it.
Her mom was better, now, for the most part. But Sam still stepped around the place on the kitchen floor where she had collapsed. There was still a matchbox hidden under her bed with the gleaming shine of her mother’s lost teeth, two canines and a molar. It was nice, having a piece of her mom to keep. Even if she left again, Sam would still have part of her.
Sam sighed, and turned away from the ocean. As she faced towards the low dunes further up the beach, she saw a sandcastle sitting nestled among them. It was such a strange sight that her eyes skipped over it at first, almost automatically, disregarding it because it was so out of place.
Sam found sandcastles out on the beach sometimes, usually half-collapsed and on the verge of being washed away by the waves, but she had never seen anything like the sandcastle in front of her. It was life-sized, something that wouldn’t have looked out of place in the Scottish highlands, with spires shooting up above her head and carefully etched out bricks lining each side. The front wall was dominated by an arched set of double doors, twice her height, with a portcullis nestled at the top, ready to be dropped. All of it was lovingly detailed, down to the rust on the tips of the towers and the wood grain of the door. It was made out of wet, densely-packed sand, held together impossibly. It had not been there two hours ago, when she had come to the beach.
There was a bird sitting on the overhang of the door, small and black.
As soon as she took a step towards the sandcastle, the bird shook out its feathers and swooped down towards Sam, landing at her feet with a little stumble.
“Hey, kid, get out of here,” said the bird.
Sam closed her eyes, very deliberately. When she opened them, the bird was still there. Sam considered herself a very reasonable person, so she immediately drew the most logical conclusion. The bird was, she was almost certain, a demon.
“Trust me, you don’t want to run into Mr. Salty, the queen bitch himself,” the bird said.
“Mr. Salty?” Sam inquired, polite as she knew how to be. She edged to the side, trying to get a good angle to kick the bird like a soccer ball.
The bird did something similar to a wince, all its feathers fluffing up then settling back down. “Ah, don’t call him that. He’d turn you into a toad.”
The bird gestured with its head, towards the looming sand structure. “That’s his castle. He’s in there, probably scuttling along the ceiling or some shit because that’s the sort of weirdo he is.”
Sam nodded, encouraging. She pulled back her foot and lined up her shot, the way she’d seen athletes do on TV. She aimed right for its sharp beak and let loose. The bird saw it coming, its beady eyes widening, and it cawed in distress. It flapped away, avoiding her kick only to fall backward into the sand in a scramble of wings.
“What’s your fucking problem?” it squawked. “I was trying to help you!”
“I don’t need the help of a demon,” Sam yelled, trying to remember the exorcism that her mama had taught her once, because her mama believed in being prepared for anything.
“I’m not a demon,” the bird said indignantly.
It was at about that moment that Sam gave up and just decided to roll with it.
“What are you, then?” Sam asked.
The bird shuffled its clawed feet, looking about as awkward as it could, given that it didn’t really have recognizable facial expressions. “Technically I’m a familiar of the Erlking, prince of the fae, but I prefer to be called Hitch.”
“You can’t blame me for assuming, though,” Sam said. “Ravens do tend to be associated with murder.”
“Hey, excuse you,” Hitch said. “I’m a rook, not a raven. Ravens are way bigger.”
“Sure,” Sam said, not really paying attention. Her eyes had caught on the details of the sandcastle, and she was transfixed by the slow spirals of the sand, the strange beauty of it. She found herself stepping towards the great doors, lifting a hand to knock, and as she did, the sand warped in front of her eyes, heaving itself towards her with bulging slowness. The door creaked open before her, revealing a vast, empty room. Just before she stepped inside, she felt a piercing pain in her foot, and she yelped, leaping backwards.
Hitch pecked her again, really digging his beak in. “Don’t be an idiot.”
Sam glared at him, rubbing her foot. About to retort, she finally really took in the room inside the sandcastle, and her words died in her throat.
There was a body just past the threshold of the door, face down and limbs hanging limp at its sides. Long hair splayed out in a halo around its head.
“Don’t,” Hitch warned, suddenly serious. “Just leave, kid, I mean it. I’ve seen too many people go down this road and you don’t want to be one of them.”
Sam ignored him. She made her way across the beach, slipping with every step. The sand felt deeper, piling up around her feet in silent drifts. She picked up the nearest stick and poked the body with it through the door, ready to leap back if anything went wrong, staying firmly outside of the sandcastle.
This close, Sam could tell that it used to be a woman. Her head wasn’t attached to her body. It hadn’t been a clean amputation, either. Her upper body was bruised, with chunks taken out of it, and the bones in her neck hung mangled, not connected to anything.
“Well, I warned you,” Hitch said, defeated. “I did warn you.”
Sam nudged the head with the end of the stick, nudging it over so that she could see the face. Her mother stared back at her, torn to pieces, breath still wheezing from her lungs. She wasn’t blinking, just gazing forward with glazed eyes. Sweat dripped down from her hairline.
Sam screamed and dropped the stick, tripping over herself in her haste to get away.
Her mother’s eyes were wide and pleading, and she was mouthing desperate words at Sam. Her vocal cords were broken to bits, and the only sound that came out was a strained groan.
The head rolled, inching closer to Sam like a grotesque caterpillar.
Her mother gasped for air, torn lips fluttering. Finally, comprehensible words came out. “Help. Help me, daughter.”
“That’s not your mother,” Hitch said, quiet.
Sam knew that. Her mother was sleeping back at home, and anyways her mom had never asked for her help. She had an aversion to accepting charity, as she put it.
“Okay,” Sam said, shaking all over. “Okay.”
She backed away from the sandcastle, not looking away.
“Failure,” her mother hissed as she stepped away. “I never wanted a daughter like you.”
The sun came up over the horizon. The sandcastle, Hitch, and her mom all disintegrated into sand as the light hit them.
The beach, the next night, was almost exactly how I remembered it. The beams of our flashlights sent light bouncing across the dunes, illuminating the waves, and I imagined faces in the foam of the waves.
“I’ve been back here a hundred times. There’s nothing left,” I said.
Sam took the car key out of her purse and pointed it at the sand, adjusting the sword slung over her shoulder in order to do it. The key had belonged to Hitch; Sam had requested an item of his, and it was the only thing I had left. She rested the key on the sand and drew a circle around it, inscribing symbols around the borders.
“What are you doing?” I asked.
Sam shrugged. “Not much, really. I’m…I guess you could say that I’m knocking.”
The key laid inert on the sand for long enough that I was just about to give up and go home, admit to myself that Hitch was dead and that I was a fool to believe that Sam could actually help me. Then a building started to take shape, flickering in and out like it was struggling to get away. With a pop of displaced air, the sandcastle settled into existence.
Sam banged on the entryway. Nothing happened. She did it again, harder, and scowled when the door still didn’t open.
“We demand entrance, under your honor,” Sam yelled. There was a hard rush of wind, and I gripped Sam’s arm to keep my balance, but the doors cracked open reluctantly.
The inside of the sandcastle consisted of one enormous hall, the roof arching up out of sight. Rafters crisscrossed from wall to wall, and a cobbled path led further into the building, but other than that, it was completely empty, except for the birds. There were thousands of them, perched on the rafters or hopping along the ground. They parted in front of Sam and I, and reformed behind us, leaving us in a small pocket of open space. They were all black-feathered, with sharp beaks and beady eyes.
The Erlking sat on a throne at the end of the hall, lounging across it with his feet up on the armrest. He watched them as they came forward, the soft caw of the birds the only sound.
“I am here to bargain for the life of my brother,” I said, with as much dignity as I could muster, before the Erlking could say anything.
The Erlking ignored her, tilting his head to look at Sam. “I remember you. I almost got you, once.”

Sam glared at him but didn’t respond.
“You want your brother,” The Erlking said to me, and he almost sounded amused. “Then go get him.”
As if by some sort of silent signal, every bird in the room took flight at once, and their cawing made me think of screams. I covered my head against the flapping of their wings, and my vision was quickly obscured by the chaotic movement of them. I found myself on my knees, just trying to escape them.
A hand met my shoulder. Sam urged me to my feet, and together we ran for the edge of the room, where the swarm was the thinnest. We pressed ourselves into the corner and the swarm spiraled tighter and tighter at the center of the room. It went on until there seemed to be no differentiation between the birds, all of them fused together into one creature.
When the chaos died down, the birds had become one mass, with wings and eyes and talons sticking out of its flesh, thrashing and chirping. Human body parts stuck out of it, bulging out from the feathers. It was hands, mostly, with a couple knees or staring eyes. The bird amalgamation had no recognizable facial features, but there was one long beak extending from the front of its head. Most of the body parts were concentrated around the beak, and they peeked out from where the beak connected with muscle, or grew from the tongue, nestled between the two crushing halves of the beak.
It turned its beak down and crawled forward, using the hands to balance. The fingers scrambled over the ground. I was afraid of centipedes as a child, and I felt that same crawling dread when it started moving.
“Holy shit,” Sam whispered, which was rather disappointing, because I had been hoping that at least one of us knew what to do.
The creature turned, a lurching movement that crushed some of the hands underneath it, and started heaving itself slowly towards our corner.
“Better hurry up!” the Erlking called from his throne.
It was blocking the exit, by then. The shifting body of it had moved to block us off. It ambled towards us and I tried to sink further into the corner.
As it approached, getting close enough that I could smell the stink of it, I saw a flash of a tattoo on one of the hands. I leaned in, trying to find it again, like looking for dolphins surfacing in the ocean. And again, I caught a glimpse of a duck tattoo, the tattoo that Hitch had gotten on his hand as a teenager.
I ripped away from Sam’s death grip and ran for the monster.
I fell to my knees in front of it, wincing as I impacted the ground, and reached into the nest of hands. I could feel them tearing at my forearms and ripping into me with their sharp nails, but I kept going. I pressed further in, up to my shoulder in a writhing mass of limbs, aiming for the spot where I had last seen that tattoo.
The hands were tugging at me, wrapping around my back and hair. They were pulling together, trying to draw me completely into the mass of them. I was aware of Sam at my side, anchoring me in place and bashing any hand that got too close with her sword or the sparks that leapt from her hands with muttered words. But I didn’t think it would be enough. They were too strong, and there were too many of them.
I was up to my waist in the hands when something grabbed my palm. I felt the way it clung to me, and the calluses on its palm, and I knew that I had found my brother.
I flung herself back. The hands didn’t want to let me go, and they fought the whole way, but slowly, I made progress. I kept hold of Hitch’s hand in mine the whole time, gripping it as hard as I could. I finally broke free, Hitch with me, and Sam was immediately charging the creature, able to use her sword with much greater strength without being worried about injuring Hitch. She swung it forward, and it sliced through the wrist of one of the hands. It fell without a sound, red sand flowing out of it. It deflated until it looked like dirty laundry, just a piece of limp flesh. The creature shrieked, scuttling away enough that the door was finally accessible. The three of us ran for it, Sam and I supporting Hitch between us.
I looked back as I left and found the Erlking staring right at me.
“Interesting,” he murmured, his voice carrying impossibly across the vast space between us.
The sandcastle collapsed behind us, the great walls falling in on themselves. We were out in the morning sun, the sandcastle disappearing as we watched. Hitch was on the ground in front of me, as young as he’d been thirty years ago, when he was captured. He started laughing, feathers puffing out of his mouth. He laughed until he cried and I hugged him in the way that he’d held me when I was young, in the times when my life had been defined by hunger and fear.
Hitch left, afterwards. He scratched at the pinhole scars covering his body, where feathers burst through his skin, and pulled his long sleeves down around his wrists. He didn’t know where he was going but he told me that he needed time
I had spent thirty years worth of time without him. I wanted to grab my brother by the shoulders and beg him to stay. But he flinched when I hugged him goodbye and he refused to go near sand and he stared distrustfully at the birds chirping in the trees. Hitch needed to go away and I loved him too much to stop him.
I sat out on the beach every morning. I felt the sun on my face and I waited for Hitch to come home.

I recently managed to get a text copy of Hannibal Rising and found that a lot of people don’t know the actual ending to Murasaki and Hannibal’s relationship because they refer more frequently to the movie.
The ending to their relationship in the movie is Murasaki rejecting Hannibal after seeing that his monstrosity couldn’t be contained. Her famous last words being “What is left in you to love?” before abandoning him. Imagine my shock when I read the novel to find this was not their last interaction.
The last few pages of the novel actually has Murasaki visiting Hannibal in jail where he’s being held. Their conversation is casual, but with slight tension. Murasaki tells him that Chiyoh is engaged to a young graduate who’s starting a small motorcycle business, but sends her good wishes. She and Hannibal share a moment of poetry from the Murasaki Shikubu (who is by the way her ancestor):

The words of her ancestor Murasaki Shikibu came to her and she said them: “The troubled waters Are frozen fast. Under clear heaven Moonlight and shadow Ebb and flow."
Hannibal made Prince Genji's classic reply: “The memories of long love Gather like drifting snow. Poignant as the mandarin ducks Who float side by side in sleep."

Murasaki responds to Hannibal’s part that there is no snow and only ice remains. It’s far gone, a clear symbolism that their love is over.
Hannibal’s last words to Murasaki are “You are my favorite person in the world”. She responds with a bow and leaves him, but admits to Dr. Rufin that she loves him, but can’t find him. No one can. He is a lost cause. Murasaki later packs up all of her things in the Place de Vosges and disconnects her phone. When Hannibal goes looking for her, he finds a note saying she had returned to Hiroshima and bids him goodbye with a burnt tree branch from the atomic explosion. He promptly throws it into the garbage and never sought her out ever again. And possibly never vowed to ever love again. Not if this is how it will always end. It’s mentioned he didn’t feel lonely after these events and he just focused on his career as a serial killer.
Personally, I grew up on the movie ending to Hannibal and Murasaki’s relationship and find that the final words said to Hannibal here are far more impactful. To be rejected as he is as a monster after confessing his love for Murasaki is honestly enough to close off his heart from love for the rest of his life.
Honestly, I seriously don’t want to imagine Hannibal in the Fullerverse to have ever had an incestuous relationship with his aunt (or Chiyoh for the matter), especially since Bryan planned for Robertus to be alive and not dead. That’s just way too much family drama even for a family as strange as the Lecters. Not to mention it can seriously seriously complicate his relationship with Will if he ever found out about it.

I have a main tex file which has the main document definitions, and which includes other documents which define chapters. So far, it's working well.
I'm using Cambria font for main text and math text. The math is displayed as Italics.
How can I remove the default Italics font-style for math, and just have the normal style as default for the entire document?
Code for that main document below.
%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%
​
\documentclass[

10pt, letterpaper, oneside, hyperref={colorlinks=true,linkcolor=blue} 

]{book}
​
% Packages
\usepackage{xcolor} % Support defining colors.
\usepackage{pagecolor} % Allow changing the page color.
\usepackage{comment} % Support multi-line comments.
\usepackage{amssymb} % Extra math symbols
\usepackage{bookmark} % Support creating bookmarks based on section markers.
\usepackage{common-unicode} % Local package: map common unicode math chars to latex commands.
\usepackage{sectsty} % For changing the color of sections.
\usepackage[Glenn]{fncychap} % Fancy chapter style.
\usepackage{fancyhdr} % For changing header styles.
%\usepackage{layout} % For display layout side.
\usepackage[margin=0.6in]{geometry} % For changing the margin size.
\usepackage[most]{tcolorbox} % For drawing box around math.
\usepackage[skip=10pt plus1pt, indent=0pt]{parskip} % For spacing between paragraphs.
\usepackage{graphicx} % For drawing images.
​
\usepackage{unicode-math}
\usepackage{fontspec}
​
% Font
\setmainfont{Cambria}
\setmathfont{Cambria Math}
​
% Header and footer
% INFO: https://www.overleaf.com/learn/latex/Headers_and_footers
\pagestyle{fancy} % Turn on the style
​
% Change the page header style
% NOTE: Some pages are still displaying with a bad header.
% Also, want to right-align odd/even page headers.
\renewcommand{\chaptermark}[1]{\markboth{\thechapter.\ #1}{}}
​
​
% Theme Stuff %%%%%%%%%%%
\definecolor{myPageColor}{rgb}{0.1, 0.1, 0.1}
\definecolor{myTextColor}{rgb}{0.8, 0.8, 0.8}
%\definecolor{myChapterColor}{rgb}{1, 0.0, 1}
%\colorlet{mySectionColor}{cyan}
\definecolor{mySectionColor}{rgb}{0.6, 0.7, 0.9}
\definecolor{mySubSectionColor}{rgb}{0.6, 0.9, 1}
\definecolor{mySubSubSectionColor}{rgb}{0.8, 0.7, 1}
\definecolor{myMathBoxColor}{rgb}{0.15, 0.15, 0.15}
\definecolor{myMathColor}{rgb}{0.3, 1, 0.3}
\definecolor{myInlineMathColor}{rgb}{0.3, 0.8, 0.3}
\definecolor{myBoxedMathColor}{rgb}{0.9, 0.9, 0.9}
\definecolor{myMathBoxEdgesColor}{rgb}{0.15, 0.15, 0.15}
\definecolor{myEmphColor}{rgb}{1, 0.6, 0.6}
​
\pagecolor{myPageColor}
\color{myTextColor}
​
\setlength{\headheight}{16pt} % Size of header font.
​
%\chapterfont{\color{myChapterColor}}
\sectionfont{\color{mySectionColor}}
\subsectionfont{\color{mySubSectionColor}}
\subsubsectionfont{\color{mySubSubSectionColor}}
​
​
% Draw a (non-inline) math box, left-aligned.
% Optional argument #1 is the title.
\newcommand*\Mbox[2][]{

\\begin{tcolorbox}\[math,colback=myMathBoxColor,colframe=gray!30!myMathBoxEdgesColor,title={#1}\] \\color{myBoxedMathColor}#2 \\end{tcolorbox}% 

}
​
% Draw a (non-inline) math box, centered.
% Optional argument #1 is the title.
\newcommand*\Mboxc[2][]{%

\\begin{tcolorbox}\[ams align\*,colback=myMathBoxColor,colframe=gray!30!black,title={#1}\]#2\\end{tcolorbox}% 

}
​
% Add emphasis to text.
\newcommand*\Memph[1]{

\\textcolor{myEmphColor}{#1} 

}
​
\newcommand*\Mi[2][myInlineMathColor]{{\color{#1}$#2$}}
​
% Change the color of the math expressions.
%\everymath{\color{myMathColor}}
​
%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%
% Start the actual document structure.
\begin{document}
​
% The title page stuff.
\begin{titlepage}

\\begin{center} \\huge\\textbf{Mathematics}\\\\ \\large\\textit{A Compendium}\\\\ \\vspace{2mm} \\scriptsize{May 7, 2023} - \\today \\end{center} \\vspace\*{\\stretch{2.0}} 

\end{titlepage}
​
\large
​
\pagenumbering{roman}
\tableofcontents
​
\include{Introduction.tex}
\include{Fundamentals.tex}
\include{SetTheory.tex}
\include{Algebra.tex}
\include{Trigonometry.tex}
\include{Formulas.tex}
​
\end{document}

I have a bunch of suspicious chinese "SYSTEM" subprocesses showing up on my firewall greenlist under my "SYSTEM" application, I screenshotted some of them. Can anyone help or tell me what's going on, or if my windows/system is compromised, or how I should proceed? There's stuff like a 2 finger "peace" handsign (✌) as one of them, and then the ✌symbol with chinese text after it in another one.. I am quite worried about this, I can't lose my pc and I feel like this might mean I need to wipe it or forfeit my drives. I hope I am just being paranoid, but the ✌ sign as a "SYSTEM" application subprocess is extremely unnerving, and then there is one of them that translates into .bo0, as if a hacker is messing with me.. Please, any help would be immensely appreciated!
Screenshot compilation image
​

Daily Help/Questions/Fusion Suggestions Megathread
Hello everybody!
This is the Daily Megathread for general and simple questions as well as asking for advice on which Pokemon to use the fusion splicers on.
The goal of these Megathreads is to hopefully reduce the number of repeat posts and de-clog up the SubReddit.
If your post was deleted and you were redirected here please check the comments to make sure your question wasn't already asked and answered today.
If you're looking for a really well-written, in-depth beginners guide we have one pinned but you can also find it through this link: https://www.reddit.com/pokerogue/s/6ck9cZj0NG
I'll also include some common questions and answers so please check these below before repeating the same question.
(Most of these are from the official Wiki which can be found here as well as more info like which Pokemon are in which biomes, shiny odds, and the stat spread of each Dynamax form) : https://wiki.pokerogue.net/start
*
Commonly asked questions:
Q: What does the pink box around some starters mean? A: The Pokemon has PKRS which increases the amount of Exp gained, the Pokemon will eventually spread it to your other Pokemon. Every day 3 random Pokemon are selected to have PKRS for that day
Q: What does the little blue and purple symbol by my starter mean? A: You have the Pokemon's Hidden Ability unlocked. When you catch a Pokemon you will know it has the Hidden Ability because the text will be Yellow. You will have to switch the Ability to use the Hidden Ability
Q: What do (P) or (N) next to a move or ability mean? A: (P) means Partially Implemented (usually for moves this means it does the attack but not the secondary effect) and (N) means Not Implemented. (Eventually everything will be implemented)
Q: Can you ever catch any Pokemon in the last biome of Classic? A: Once you have hatched the Pokemon from an egg you can catch duplicates of it ONLY IN CLASSIC MODE in the final biome
Q: How do I evolve this Pokemon? A: Any evolution that has been changed from the main games can be found here: https://wiki.pokerogue.net/gameplay:evolutions
Q: How does fusion work? A: In short, the 1st Pokemon you fuse will dictate the Passive ability (if you have it unlocked), the 1st type of the fusion, the Level, IVs, and Nature. The 2nd Pokemon will dictate the Ability of the Pokemon and the second typing (which will be the Pokemons second type if it is a dual-type). Luck is combined, learnset (including TM compatibility) are also combined. Note: if you unfuse them the second Pokemon will be lost Second Note: both sides can evolve normally but only the 1st half can Mega/Dynamax evolve or use items that change their form More info can be found here: https://wiki.pokerogue.net/gameplay:mechanics:fusion
Q: What is a "Manaphy egg"? A: An egg of the same rarity as an "Epic" egg that has a 7/8 chance of hatching a Phione and a 1/8 chance of hatching a Manaphy
Q: What does the (+1), (+2), (+3), etc. mean under my starters moves? A: You have more moves available to choose from than just what is listed, since a Pokemon can only have 4 at a time obviously you will have to change them if you want different ones
Q: What are some good starters for Classic mode? A: We actually have a Daily Voting/Tiering Project going on, you can sort the SubReddit by "Daily Tiering/Voting Posts" to see the most recent one which will have the updated tier list. If you want to know why a Pokemon was Voted a certain way or what makes it so good or how people use it successfully feel free to ask that specifically in this thread in the comments :)
*
A few tips if you're asking for Fusion Suggestions:
Obviously post a picture of your team, but also include in the comment their Nature's, Abilities, current Moveset and whether you have the Passive Ability unlocked on them.
If your question wasn't on the list above or for suggestions on which Pokemon to Fuse from your current team feel free to ask in the comments of this thread :). Individual posts of these types will be removed to reduce the number of repeat posts in the Sub.
As always, Happy Roguing!

So my spouse moved out of the house to his office (in our property) about 1 month ago, due to my poor behavior (poor emotional regulation and raging when I feel dismissed and unheard). I stupidly texted him to check on him after he went to his office/bedroom seeming unsettled for an unknown (to me) reason. A few hours later, I found myself thinking fondly of him and the live he has shown me, so I checked in with him to see if he was any better. He said he was a bit better and wanted to know what was on my mind. I confessed to was thinking about him, and checking to see if he was doing any better. After I vulnerablly confessed I had been thinking about him, his next two responses were reticent two word responses, so I made the poor assumption that my confession of thinking about him had upset him (he goes from hot to cold as quickly as I do these days). After his two word answers, I responded "I am guessing my honesty means we are done talking." And then I was told I was being passive aggressive and that I had a "twisted perspective". My response was "It was not meant to be twisted. If my interpretation was wrong. I am sorry.". Then the situation was cleared up and he was off to bed. He 'called me out' on what he felt was my 'poor' behavior as usual and does not see how his response was dismissive to my vulnerability. He hasn't read any of my responses after that, keeping to his boundaries I'm guessing, but to which one I don't know. I'm upset that I was dumb enough to text him in my vulnerability only to be met with mono symbol answers and then attacked for misinterpreting them as him shutting down because I had been honest in admitting that I was thinking about him. Why do I feel like he only sees a black/white view of me, when he constantly calls me out on that? I hate seeing myself through his eyes when they seem so full of dusdain for me. I know that I have hurt him but I hate that I see so much disdain towards me that it makes me doubt that he still loves me. But if he only feels contempt for me, I can't blame him. But I keep holding out that contempt isn't all he feels for me, even if that seems to be what I feel most often from him these days. Maybe I am just being emotionally disregulated or pessimistic or whatever other BPD characteristic that this can be seen as, and maybe it's not. IDK, my gut tells me one thing but I know he would say another. I feel confused, accused, dismissed and so very alone in all of it. Why can't I just do what a normal person would do? I pray multiple times a day that God will just let me die (since I have promised not to KMS), my bedtime prayer has turned into a plee for God to let me sleep and not wake up. But I know when my damn alarm goes off, I will still be here, dealing with the consequences of my messed up head. drowning in sorrow for the life I dreamed of, guilt & shame for the life I have made because of my own choices. Dear God, maybe you will hear my prayer if I put it on line-since my verbal prayers continue to go unmet- be with my husband and give him peace and healing for the past, the present and the future. And please let me I fall asleep, and not ever wake up, or heal my broken mind so that I can stop hurting all those around me.

LATHANDER
The Morninglord, Commander of Creativity, Patron to Spring and Eternal Youth, Mentor of Self-Perfection, Bringer of the Dawn, Lord of Birth and Renewal
Greater Power of Elysium
Symbol Sunrise made of pink, red, and yellow gems, or a simple rosy pink disk
Realm Morninglory (Elysium/Eronia)
Alignment Neutral Good
Aliases none
Superior none (AO)
Allies Chauntea (lover), Deneir, Eldath, Gond, Ilmater, Kelemvor, Llira, Lurue, Mielikki, Milil, Oghma, Paladine, Selune, Siamorphe, Silvanus, Sune, Torm, Tyche (dead), Tymora, Tyr, Ushas
Foes Bane, Beshaba, Bhaal (dead), Cyric, Ibrandul (dead), Iyachtu Xvim (dead), Loviatar, Moander (dead), Myrkul (dead), Shar, Talona
Servants none
Servitor Creatures butterflies, celestials of all types, elysian dragons, hollyphants, radiant creatures, robins (normal and celestial), sanctified creatures, sun peacocks (normal and celestial), sunwyrms (good aligned only)
Manifestations an intense and rosy radiance that appears around objects to indicate special qualities or at confusing or dangerous junctures to indicate a safe or preferred path, and that causes those people it surrounds to be telekinetically pushed out of harmful situations, healed of all wounds, purged of any diseases, poisons, foreign objects, magical and nonmagical afflictions and deleterious effects, magical or psionic compulsions, fear, and curses, causes resurrection effects to be automatically successful, and transmits messages
Signs of Favor aster blossoms, an intense and rosy radiance with the same qualities as his manifestation, sun peacock feathers
Worshipers Aristocrats, artists, athletes, farmers, hunters of the undead, merchants, monks of the Sun Soul, peasants, performers, the youthful
Cleric Alignments LG, NG, CG
Specialty Priests Morninglord
Holy Days Midsummer morning, the mornings of the vernal and autumnal equinoxes
Important Ceremonies Song of Dawn; contracts, marriages and promises made at dawn, funerals for those not meant to be raised or resurrected
Portfolio Athletics, birth, creativity, dawn, renewal, self-perfection, spring, vitality, youth
Domains Community, Courage, Endurance, Good, Glory, Hope, Life, Protection, Radiance, Renewal, Strength, Zeal
Favored Weapon Dawnspeaker (heavy or light mace)

LATHANDER
Male Sentinel 20, Cleric 20, Morninglord 20, Master of Radiance 5
NG Medium Outsider (Extraplanar, Good)
Divine Rank 17
Init 44 (+16 Dex, +8 Superior Initiative); Senses 17-mile-radius; Listen 77, Spot 77; remote sensing (20 locations), portfolio sense
Aura divine aura (DC 78), courage (100 ft, +8 saves against fear), radiant 3/day; Languages can communicate with any living creature; Words of Creation
_________________________________________________________________________________________________________________
AC 105, touch 57, flat-footed 95, undead 107 (+18 armor, +20 deflection, +10 Dex, +17 divine, +30 natural)
hp 1,860 (20d10 + 45d8 plus 1300), fast healing 74; divine shield 23/day (170 hp); renewal 1/day (if fall below 0 but less than -10 hit points regain 1d8 +20 hp); DR 40/epic, evil and adamantine
Immune ability damage, ability drain, banishment, death effects, disease, disintegration, electricity, energy drain, fire, imprisonment, mind-affecting effects, paralysis, poison, rebuking, sleep, sonic, stunning, transmutation, and turning
Resist acid 37, cold 37; SR 81
Fort 111 Ref 101 Will 105; +2 against evil outsiders and undead, +4 against mind-affecting effects from evil outsiders, +5 against evil spells or spells from evil characters
________________________________________________________________________________________________________________
Speed 60 ft. (12 squares)
Melee dawnspeaker 115/110/105/100 (55 plus 18 fire plus 18 holy plus 1 negative level vs evil plus 48 vs evil outsiders and undead plus undead disruption [Fort DC 79 or die]/19-20/x2 plus 36 fire plus 36 holy plus 2 negative levels vs good plus death [Fort DC 79, evil outsiders and undead] plus undead disruption [Fort DC 79 or die]), +8 atk vs evil outsiders and undead; or
Melee spell 80 or
Ranged spell 76
Base Atk +43; Grp +63
Atk Options Awesome Smite, Cleave, Holy Potency, Power Attack; smite evil 24/day (+20 atk, +455 damage)
Special Actions alter reality, divine blast (444 damage) 23/day, feat of endurance 1/day (+30 Con for 1 minute), destroy evil outsiders and undead 27/day as a 66^th level cleric (turning check 73, turning damage 105; Heighten Turning, Intensify Turning, Multiturning, Quicken Turning), protective ward 1/day (+65 resistance bonus to one saving throw for one hour), surge of hope 1/day (when failing a skill check, attack roll, or saving throw, add 1d6 to the result), touch of life 1/day (1d6 +65 temporary hp to a single creature for one hours), zeal 1/day (take 20 on a skill check, except on checks are not normally allowed to take 20, without increasing the amount of time needed to make the check); Battle Blessing, Corona (Will DC 62), Divine Censure (Will DC 62), Epic Divine Might, Epic Divine Vengeance, Sacred Vengeance
Combat Gear dawnspeaker
Divine Spell-like Abilities (CL 65^th; +1 good spells; all [fire] and [light] spells are intensified)
At will – aid, animate objects, animate plants, antimagic field, atonement, bear’s endurance, bigby’s clenched fist, bigby’s crushing hand, bigby’s grasping hand, blade barrier (DC 53), bless, bless weapon, bolt of glory, bull’s strength, charm person (DC 48), cloak of bravery, color spray (DC 48), commune, consecrate, crown of glory (DC 55), death ward, dismissal (DC 51), dispel evil (DC 52), disrupt undead, disrupting weapon (DC 52), endure elements, enlarge person, widened faerie fire, flame strike (DC 52), fire shield, fire seeds (DC 53), freedom, gate, globe of invulnerability, good hope, greater cloak of bravery, greater dispel magic, greater heroism, greater planar ally, greater restoration, greater status, greater teleport, heat metal (DC 49), helping hand, heroes’ feast, heroism, hide from undead (DC 48), holy aura (DC 55), holy smite (DC 51), holy sword, holy word (DC 54), hypnotic pattern (DC 49), iron body, lesser restoration, lion’s roar (DC 56), magic vestment, mass bear’s endurance, mass heal (DC 56), mind blank, mordenkainen’s magnificent mansion, plant growth, plane shift (DC 52), polymorph any object (DC 55), prayer, prismatic sphere (DC 56), prismatic spray (DC 54), prismatic wall (DC 56), protection from energy, protection from evil, rary’s telepathic bond, rainbow, rainbow pattern (DC 51), refreshment, refuge, regenerate, reincarnate (DC 51), remove disease, remove fear, repulsion (DC 54), righteous might, sanctuary (DC 48), scintillating pattern, searing light, sustain, spell immunity, spell resistance, status, stoneskin, sympathy (DC 55), summon monster IX (good creatures only), sunbeam (DC 54), sunburst (DC 55), tongues.
1/day – calm emotions (DC 51)
Master of Radiance Spell-like Abilities (CL 56^th; +1 good spells; all [fire] and [light] spells are intensified; only usable during aura of radiance)
1/round – beam of sunlight, searing light
Morninglord Spell-like Abilities (CL 54^th; +1 good spells; all [fire] and [light] spells are intensified)
1/day – daylight, searing ray (as searing light, but automatically empowered against undead)
Cleric Spells per Day (CL 54^th; +1 good spells; all spells are energized and maximized; all [fire] and [light] spells are intensified)
20^th (3+1/day) – heightened intensified end to strife (DC 63) (x2), heightened last judgement (DC 70), enhanced heightened intensified mass heal (DC 59) (D).
19^th (3+1/day) – heightened miracle (DC 69) (x2), consecrated intensified purified sacred storm of vengeance (DC 59), enhanced empowered heightened sunburst (DC 63) (D).
18^th (3+1/day) – consecrated enhanced heightened purified flame strike (DC 62) (x2) (D), intensified quickened righteous smite (DC 57), enhanced intensified righteous smite (DC 57).
17^th (3+1/day) – heightened holy word (DC 67) (D), heightened know true name (DC 67), empowered intensified lion’s roar (DC 58), heightened quickened miracle (DC 63).
16^th (4+1/day) – intensified mass heal (DC 59), intensified righteous exile (DC 59) (x2), intensified storm of vengeance (DC 59), enhanced quickened sunburst (DC 58) (D).
15^th (4+1/day) – empowered intensified blade barrier (DC 56) (D), enhanced quickened searing erupt (DC 59) (x2), intensified mass cure critical wounds, heightened righteous glare (DC 65).
14^th (4+1/day) – enhanced fire-substituted fiery searing lion’s roar (DC 58) (D), heightened quickened holy word (DC 60) (x2), empowered quickened sunburst (DC 58) (x2).
13^th (4+1/day) – enhanced quickened flame strike (DC 55) (D), quickened implosion (DC 59) (x2), quickened sublime revelry, intensified weight of sin (DC 56).
12^th (5+1/day) – empowered enhanced blade barrier (DC 56) (D), empowered enhanced cometfall (DC 56), intensified divine retribution (DC 55), consecrated purified sacred firestorm (DC 58) (x2), quickened visions of the future.
11^th (5+1/day) – quickened amber sarcophagus, consecrated purified quickened cometfall (DC 56), sacred searing erupt (DC 59), quickened greater shield of lathander, quickened light of purity, quickened sunbeam (DC 57) (D).
10^th (5+1/day) – quickened crown of brilliance, consecrated fire-substituted searing earthquake (DC 58), quickened heal (DC 56) (D), empowered fire-substituted stormrage.
9^th (7+1/day) – heightened eternal rest (DC 56), quickened flame strike (DC 55), feast of champions, gate, mantle of the fiery spirit, prismatic sphere (DC 59) (D), summon elemental monolith, undeath’s eternal foe.
8^th (8+1/day) – chain dispel, holy aura (DC 58) (D), illusion purge, know true name (DC 58), mass restoration, mass valiant spirit, spread of contentment (DC 58), shun the dark chaos (DC 58), consecrated purified wages of sin.
7^th (8+1/day) – bastion of good, control weather, fortunate fate, quickened light of Venya (DC 53), rain of embers (DC 57), radiant assault (x2) (DC 57), rejuvenating light (DC 57), sunbeam (DC 57) (D).
6^th(8+1/day) – chasing perfection, consecrate battlefield, quickened deific vengeance (DC 52), heal (DC 56) (D), fiery vision (x2), ghost trap, light of courage (DC 56), vigorous circle.
5^th (9+1/day) – atonement, blistering radiance (DC 55), chaav’s laugh (DC 55), condemnation (DC 55), crown of flame, divine agility, divine retribution (DC 55), searing meteoric strike (DC 54) (x2), valiant fury (D).
4^th (10+1/day) – aligned aura (DC 54), assay spell resistance (x2), aura of the sun (x2), channeled divine health, cure critical wounds, holy smite (DC 54) (D), recitation, sacred haven, sunmantle.
3^rd (10+1/day) – cure serious wounds, fell the greatest foe, find the gap, flamebound symbol (x2), forced manifestation (DC 53), heart’s ease, mass align weapon, phieran’s resolve, prayer (D), protection from negative energy.
2^nd (10+1/day) – detect aberration, eagle’s splendor, healing lorecall, make whole, mark of doom (x2), mark of judgment (x2) (DC 52), master’s touch, share talents, shield other (D).
1^st (10+1/day) – bless water, conviction, detect taint, divine favor, endure elements (D), exorcism (x2) (DC 51), nimbus of light, ray of hope, ray of resurgence, vision of heaven (DC 51).
Orisons (6/day) – create water, cure minor wounds, guidance, light, purify food and drink, read magic.
Epic Spells Prepared 6 divine, up to Spellcraft DC 122
Epic Spells Known epic mage armor, epic repulsion, epic spell reflection, global warming, glorious light of renewal, greater ruin, hellball, nailed to the sky, nimbus, rain of fire, ruin, superb dispelling. Lathander has additionally created many epic spells that bring light and life, as well as bring ruin to the undead.
_________________________________________________________________________________________________________________
Abilities Str 50, Dex 42, Con 50, Int 36, Wis 51, Cha 50
SQ avatar, bane of the restless, celestial fortitude, celestial minion 1/day, creative fire +20, divine grace, divinity, immortality, lathander’s light, resist fiendish lure
Feats Awesome Smite, Battle Blessing, Cleave, Consecrate Spell, Corona (Will DC 62), Divine Censure (Will DC 62), Divine Might, Divine Vengeance, Empower Spell, Energize Spell, Energy Substitution (fire), Extra Turning, Fiery Spell, Heighten Spell, Heighten Turning, Holy Potency, Improved Critical (heavy mace), Improved Initiative, Improved Turning, Maximize Spell (B), Power Attack, Purify Spell, Quicken Spell, Quicken Turning, Sacred Vengeance, Sanctify Martial Strike, Searing Spell, Weapon Focus (heavy mace), Words of Creation (B)
Epic Feats Enhance Spell, Epic Divine Might, Epic Divine Vengeance, Epic Spellcasting (B), Great Smiting (x2), Improved Heighten Spell, Intensify Spell, Intensify Turning, Multiturning, Positive Energy Aura, Superior Initiative
Salient Divine Abilities Area Divine Shield (170 hp in a 170 ft square or a 17 ft sphere or hemisphere), Automatic Metamagic (energize spell), Banestrike (evil outsiders), Banestrike (undead), Call Creatures (17 celestials with up to 37 HD), Divine Inspiration (hope), Divine Fast Healing (x2), Divine Paladin, Divine Spellcasting, Divine Weapon Focus (heavy mace), Divine Weapon Specialization (heavy mace), Earthmother’s Boon (unique salient divine ability), Energy Burst (170 ft, 136 fire damage), Energy Storm (170 ft, 17 holy and 17 positive), Gift of Life, Indomitable Strength, Life and Death (Fort DC 79 or die, 340 damage on a successful save), Lord of the Dawn (unique salient divine ability), Mass Life and Death (any number of creatures no more than 17 miles apart, Fort DC 79 or die, 340 damage on a successful save), Power of Nature, Rejuvenation (-17, -34 in Morninglory), Undead Mastery (17 creatures)
Skills Appraise 70 (78 paintings and sculptures), Bluff 82, Concentration 125, Craft (painting) 138, Craft (sculpting) 138, Diplomacy 143, Gather Information 72, Heal 125, Jump 84, Intimidate 86, Knowledge (arcana) 80, Knowledge (history) 92, Knowledge (nobility and royalty) 118, Knowledge (religion) 118, Knowledge (the planes) 118, Listen 77, Perform 145, Ride 62, Search 75, Sense Motive 82, Spot 77, Spellcraft 122, Survival 67 (75 extraplanar), Swim 82, Tumble 67
Possessions +8 full plate of the celestial battalion, dawnspeaker

Aura of Radiance (Su) The light of Lathander shines perpetually. No matter how dark it is, the Morninglord sees as though the conditions were identical to the outdoors at sunrise. This ability functions like darkvision out to 60 feet, except that he sees in color. Lathander also has a +2 sacred bonus on saving throws against spells with the darkness descriptor and a +2 sacred bonus to Armor Class against attacks from undead creatures.
Beam of Sunlight (Sp) Lathander can evoke a dazzling beam of intense light (the equivalent of a beam from the sunbeam spell) once per round as a full-round action as long as his radiant aura is active as a 56^th level caster.
Blessing of Dawn (Su) The sight of the morning sun is an inspirational vision for the Morninglord. Lathander gains a +2 morale bonus on Will saves from sunrise until noon. This ability is in effect only while he can see the sun; the effect is suppressed any time he is deprived of the sight of it during this period.
Celestial Fortitude (Su) Lathander’s endurance and fortitude are enhanced against fiendish attacks. He has a +2 sacred bonus to all Fortitude saving throws against effects from evil outsiders and evil spells. Additionally, if he makes a successful Fortitude saving throw against an effect from an evil spell or evil outsider that normally deals half damage or partial effects on a successful save, he instead takes no damage and suffers no partial effects.
Celestial Minion (Sp) Lathander may summon a Medium or smaller size celestial animal (with the celestial creature template) as a standard action usable once a day. This celestial minion carries the same responsibilities as a paladin's special mount and gains the same bonuses to its HD, natural armor, Strength, Intelligence, and other special abilities that a paladin's special mount has, but only remains for 20 hours before returning to the outer plane from whence it came.
Creative Fire (Ex) The Morninglord is a creative, expressive deity. He has a bonus equal to his morninglord level on all Craft and Perform checks.
Divinity Lathander is an embodiment of ancient divine power. As such, reality is his to shape as he sees fit.
Alter Reality: Lathander may alter reality within the bounds of his portfolio. This functions as a wish spell that requires no XP or material cost. The limits of this ability are fully described in Deities and Demigods. He can additionally alter his size from Fine to Colossal and may additionally alter up to 100 pounds of objects in the same manner.
Avatar: Lathander can have up to 20 avatars at any given time. The Morninglord appears as a golden-skinned athletic male of exceeding beauty who has just fully entered early manhood. He wears noble robes constructed in the colors of the dawn, carries himself proudly, and dresses in the finest golden plate armor if attending to matters that might turn violent.
Divine Blast: Lathander can create a ray of divine power that extends for up to 17 miles, dealing up to 444 points of damage, as a ranged touch attack with no saving throw. Lathander can unleash a divine blast 23 times per day, and alter the visual, auditory and sensation-based qualities of his divine blast as he desires. Lathander’s divine blasts generally take the form of rays of fiery sunlight.
Divine Shield: As a free action 23 times per day, Lathander can create a shield that lasts 10 minutes and stops 170 points of damage from attacks. Once the shield stops that much damage, it collapses. Any damage Lathander is naturally immune to does not count towards the shield’s limits.
Earthmother’s Boon (unique salient divine ability) Chauntea is Lathander’s lover and has bestowed a degree of protection over her consort. By her grace, the Lord of the Dawn cannot be harmed by any nonmagical plant or any creature with less than 33 Hit Dice with the plant subtype. Epic creatures and creatures with equal or more than 33 Hit Dice must succeed at a Will save (DC 79) to harm the Morninglord.
Greater Turning (Su) Six times per day, Lathander may use greater turning as the granted power of the Sun domain. This is superseded by his Lord of the Dawn salient divine ability.
Lathander's Light (Su) Whenever Lathander casts a spell with the light descriptor, its area is doubled.
Lord of the Dawn (unique salient divine ability) Lathander is the sun. He is the light that drives back the darkness, the brilliant spark that lights the way out of night and the creative brilliance within every artist. His dominion over light and the sun, both physical and metaphysical, grants him a variety of powers as listed below:
Fires of the Sun: The light of the sun shields Lathander’s body. This protection renders Lathander immune to all forms of magical and nonmagical fire, with searing effects only dealing half damage. In addition, spells and spell-like abilities cast by Lathander from the Sun domain, or with the [fire] and [light] descriptors, are similarly enhanced and are always intensified.
Radiance of the Dawn: Lathander can shed light equal to full sunlight in a 17-mile emanation from his body that counters and dispels all Darkness effects unless created by a higher ranked deity. Undead and evil outsiders caught within the radius must succeed at a Fortitude save (DC 79) or be destroyed and turned into dust. Creatures vulnerable to sunlight suffer a -17 penalty to the saving throw. A successful saving throw still deals 17d8 points of damage, while creatures vulnerable to sunlight suffer 17d12 points of damage.
Spark of Creativity: Lathander is the commander of creativity, the inspiration and muse for craftsmen and artists throughout the Realms. 17 times per day, Lathander may bestow a +17 divine bonus to any Craft or Performance check, or the Efficient Item Creation feat, to up to 17 creatures for the next 24 hours. Performances and non-magical items crafted beneath the aegis of this ability always earn three times the normal gold amount and have three times the listed market price in cost. Magical items crafted with the benefit of this ability add +17,000 gp to the listed market price and increase any numeric benefit (enhancement bonuses for the purpose of attack and damage rolls, armor and save bonuses and so forth) by +4.
Spurn the Profane: Lathander uses the totality of his character level to determine the effectiveness of his ability to smite evil, turn outsiders and undead as well as any of his feats that affect the undead. His turn attempts resolve as greater turnings (as the granted power of the Sun domain). In addition, Lathander adds his paladin spells to his clerical spell list, using the sum of both lists to determine his caster level.
Wrath of the Dawn: As a standard action Lathander can generate a ray of scorching light that extends for up to 17 miles and inflicts 17d6 points of damage, half fire and half divine. As a full attack option, he can generate up to four rays, and undead and evil outsiders suffer 17d12 points of damage. In addition, Lathander can duplicate the effects of any spell with the [light] descriptor as a standard action. (CL 65^th, DC 50 plus spell level).
Maximize Turning (Su) Once per day, Lathander can automatically achieve the maximum possible result on a turning damage roll. This is superseded by his natural divine powers.
Radiant Aura (Su) Three times per day, Lathander can emanate an aura of brilliant light that weakens undead creatures for one minute. The aura provides bright illumination in a 30-foot radius around him, and shadowy illumination for an additional 30 feet beyond that. Creatures that take penalties in bright light also take them while within the radius of the bright aura. In addition, undead creatures within the radius of bright light take a —2 penalty on attack rolls, damage rolls, and saving throws. Activating the radiant aura is a free action that does not provoke attacks of opportunity. While his radiant aura is active, Lathander casts spells with the light descriptor at +2 caster level. The radiant aura is the equivalent of a 5th-level spell with the light descriptor for the purpose of interacting with spells and effects with the darkness descriptor.
Rejuvenation of the Morn (Su) Dawn is a powerful symbol of rebirth and renewal. Once per tenday, Lathander may spend one uninterrupted hour before dawn in prayer. As soon as the sun rises after this prayer ritual, he gains one benefit of his choice from the following list.
· Healing up to full normal hit points (self only).
· Removal of any poisons or diseases (self only). This effect does not restore ability damage or ability drain caused by poison or disease.
· Full restoration of ability damage due to one poison or disease.
If his prayers are interrupted for even a single round, the attempt is ruined, and he must wait a full tenday to try again.
Resist Fiendish Lure (Su) Lathander has a +4 sacred bonus to all saving throws against mind-affecting attacks of evil outsiders.
Possessions
Dawnspeaker, Lathander’s gold-and-ivory mace, is a +10 fiery blast ghost strike mighty disruption heavy mace of holy power and evil outsider and undead dread. When held by the Morninglord, it also functions as a holy devastator. The DC of the weapon’s disruption and dread abilities is 79, and creatures vulnerable to sunlight suffer a -17 penalty to saving throws made to resist Dawnspeaker’s abilities. Lathander is known to loan out Dawnspeaker to questors and warriors he deems worthy and can call it back to his hand from anywhere in the cosmos.
The Morninglord also occasionally wears a set of golden +8 full plate with the powers of an armor of the celestial battalion. The bonuses are not reflected in the above statistics.
Other Divine Powers As a greater deity, Lathander automatically receives the best possible result on any die roll he makes (including attack rolls, damage, checks, and saves). He treats a 1 on an attack roll or saving throw normally and not as an automatic failure. He is immortal. Senses Lathander can see (using normal vision or darkvision), hear, touch, and smell at a distance of 17 miles. As a standard action, he can perceive anything within 17 miles of his worshippers, holy sites, objects, or any location where one of his titles or name was spoken in the last hour. He can extend his senses to up to 20 locations at once. He can block the sensing power of deities of his rank or lower at up to two remote locations at once for 17 hours. Portfolio Sense Lathander is aware of any event under the light of the sun, competition or act of artistry of the number of people involved up to 17 weeks in the past and 17 weeks in the future. Automatic Actions Lathander can use any skill related to his portfolio as a free action if the DC for the task is 30 or lower. He can perform up to twenty such free actions each round. Create Magic Items Lathander can craft any magical item that associated with heat and light, aids in self-empowerment, preserves or restores vitality or harms the undead, including artifacts.
_________________________________________________________________________________________________________________
Eternal Rest [Ravenloft: Legacy of Blood 71]
Necromancy
Level: Cleric 6
Components: V, S, DF
Casting Time: 1 standard action
Range: Close (25 ft. + 5 ft./2 levels)
Effect: Ray (see text)
Duration: Instantaneous
Saving Throw: Will partial (see text)
Spell Resistance: Yes
This spell creates a ray of golden light that destroys one undead creature’s material body (if it has one), causing it to crumble to dust, which is then wafted away in a swirling breeze. This spell affects incorporeal undead without the usual incorporeal miss chance, and such a creature merely winks out of existence if it fails its save. If the target makes a successful save, it still takes 6d6 points of damage. If the creature has a special quality that allows it to return after destruction (such as a vampire’s fast healing power or a ghost’s rejuvenation power), the creature gains a bonus equal to its Charisma modifier on its saving throw. If such a creature fails its saving throw against this spell, it must make a successful Will save at the same DC (also with its Charisma modifier as a bonus) to return. If the creature’s method of return normally requires a saving throw (as a ghost’s rejuvenation power does), the creature must first make that saving throw, then make the Will saving throw against this spell.
You can improve your chance of success by presenting at least one object or substance that the target hates, fears, or otherwise finds repulsive or painful (such as a mirror and bud of garlic for a vampire). For each such object or substance, you gain a +1 bonus on your caster level check to overcome the target’s spell resistance (if any), and the spell’s saving throw DC increases by +1. A particular creature’s history might suggest additional objects or substances that would make the spell more effective.
This spell can also be cast when an undead creature has been physically destroyed and its remains are not present. In this case, the spell must be aimed at the spot where the creature was destroyed, and it must be used within 1 minute of the undead creature’s destruction. No attack roll is required for this use of the spell.
This spell can destroy an undead darklord’s physical form, but it cannot prevent the darklord from returning.
Rainbow [Dragon Magazine 321 68]
Conjuration (Creation)
Level: Cleric 6, Radiance 6
Components: V, S, DF
Casting Time: 1 standard action
Effect: Rainbow bow, quiver, and arrows
Duration: 1 hour / level
Saving Throw: No
Spell Resistance: Yes
A rainbow-hued longbow appears in your hand, along with a full quiver of arrows fletched with different colors. The longbow is considered a +1 longbow that the caster is proficient with. The quiver holds an endless supply of seven different colored arrows, each being made of a different material and having the following effects:
Red: +1 elemental-bane adamantine arrows.
Orange: +1 construct-bane silver arrows.
Yellow: +1 plant-bane evil-aligned arrows.
Green: +1 magical beast-bane good-aligned arrows.
Blue: +1 undead-bane lawful-aligned arrows.
Indigo: +1 aberration-bane chaotic-aligned arrows.
Violet: +1 dragon-bane cold iron arrows.
Only the caster is able to use the bow, quiver, and arrows. They appear immediately back in the caster’s possession if dropped or given away, though the caster may drop the bow and quiver to use another item, but can rematerialize them at will, as a free action. The bow, quiver, and arrows have no weight and cannot be disarmed or sundered.
Know True Name [Kalamar: Player’s Guide 3.0 177]
Enchantment (Compulsion) [Mind-Affecting]
Level: Cleric 8
Components: V, S, DF
Casting Time: 1 action
Ranged: Close (25 ft. + 5 ft. / 2 levels)
Target: One fiend
Duration: Instantaneous
Saving Throw: Will negates
Spell Resistance: Yes
You force a fiend to tell you its true name. Once you know a fiend’s true name, all spells that you cast at that creature have their save DCs increase by +4. You also gain a +4 on all checks to penetrate the creature’s spell resistance.

\usepackage{pgfplots} \usepackage{pgfplotstable} \pgfplotsset{compat=1.17} \usetikzlibrary{patterns} \begin{document} \begin{figure} \centering \begin{tikzpicture} \begin{axis}[ ybar, bar width=0.5cm, enlarge x limits=0.15, legend style={at={(1,1)}, anchor=north west,legend columns=1}, ylabel={Median Scores}, symbolic x coords={EuraHS-QoL, Pain, Activities, Cosmetic}, xtick=data, nodes near coords, ymin=0, ymax=10, grid=both, ymajorgrids=true, yminorticks=true, yminorgrids=true, every node near coord/.append style={font=\small} ] \addplot[fill=black!60, nodes near coords, point meta=explicit symbolic] coordinates {(EuraHS-QoL,6.8) [6.8] (Pain,4.7) [4.7] (Activities,7.7) [7.7] (Cosmetic,8.5) [8.5]}; \addplot[fill=black!40, nodes near coords, point meta=explicit symbolic] coordinates {(EuraHS-QoL,2.3) [2.3] (Pain,2.0) [2] (Activities,2.7) [2.7] (Cosmetic,2.5) [2.5]}; \addplot[fill=black!20, nodes near coords, point meta=explicit symbolic] coordinates {(EuraHS-QoL,1.7) [1.7] (Pain,1.3) [1.3] (Activities,2.0) [2] (Cosmetic,1.5) [1.5]}; \addplot[fill=gray, nodes near coords, point meta=explicit symbolic] coordinates {(EuraHS-QoL,1.5) [1.5] (Pain,1.0) [1] (Activities,2.0) [2] (Cosmetic,1.0) [1]}; \legend{Preoperative, 3 MPO, 12 MPO, 3 YPO} % Adding p < 0.001 text \node[above] at (axis cs:EuraHS-QoL,9.2) {p < 0.001}; \node[above] at (axis cs:Pain,8.7) {p < 0.001}; \node[above] at (axis cs:Activities,9.2) {p < 0.001}; \node[above] at (axis cs:Cosmetic,10.0) {p < 0.001}; \end{axis} \end{tikzpicture} \caption{Preoperative vs Postoperative EuraHS-QoL (Medians)} \end{figure} \end{document} 

There is symbology crossed over from the mention of 'wine stained white tshirt', to Kendricks outfit in the ELEMENT video, as well as in Billie Eilish's Bad Guy music video, bleeding onto a shirt.
Drake is known to have been texting Billie when she was underage as well.
I feel like something is linked with all of this, and Eilish's lyrics should be analyzed too.
She also has been wearing red in recent music videos, which has been a heavy symbol in music over the years aside from blood connections. Red typeset over video thumbnails, imagery in the videos and art, etc

Location: Defense Line Husky, Datsot-3

POV: Motsotaer, Malgeir Federation Planetary Defense Force (Rank: Pack Member)
The shrieking whistle of incoming artillery shell was among the most terrifying noises known to living beings.
Sheeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeew. Boom. Boom. Boom.
But it meant you were still alive.
Pack Member Motsotaer wondered if the poor pups in the forward trenches heard them coming as the enemy high explosive pounded into their lines.
Boom. Boom. Boom.
One of their anti-aircraft concrete bunkers took a direct hit; its roof collapsed on itself with a loud crumble.
Grass Eater artillery was voluminous, destructive, but scariest of all, it was incredibly precise. Their intelligence assets in orbit knew all, saw all. Their kill chains were short. Once they saw you, they would call it in, and the remainder of your life was measured in minutes and seconds.
There was nothing vegetarian about the efficient and bloodthirsty way the long-eared Grass Eaters fought, and the numerous intelligent predator species they’d exterminated on their way to Datsot… some of those tales gave even Motsotaer nightmares.
The defenders of Datsot had no choice. No choice but to defend their homes against the psychotic enemies pounding their lines to bits. And the ones who remained had learned the hard lessons of war, either through experience earned by blood or via the process of not-so-natural selection.
Motsotaer clutched his rifle against his chest as he laid in his own shallow hole, eyes closed. If the end was going to come for him, there was nothing else he could do but huddle in his freshly-dug grave.
Boom. Boom. Boom.
The blasts continued walking across the defense lines, undoubtedly killing scores of his comrades. But he accompanied each shockwave with a sigh of relief; they let him know that he was still alive. Still breathing.
One final rumble. And then there was silence across the battlefield.
Motsotaer waited a minute before he peeked out — another lesson that smart defenders of Datsot had discovered the hard way. A couple brave medics were already on the move, their shouts left and right, pulling bodies and the groaning injured alike out of the rubble aftermath of the shelling.
With a grunt, he pulled himself out of his hole, rushing towards the neighboring anti-air bunker. The concrete roof had collapsed, but he could still hear cries from the dark. He squeezed through the cluttered entrance.
It was a mess on the inside. The lights were all gone. Scattered sandbags. It smelled like blood and death, and he pushed aside the still body of a Head Pack Leader he only knew of, only to find the corpse of yet another Pack Member, her limbs sprawled in an unnatural position.
“Anyone still alive in here?” he asked in the dark as his eyes adjusted. “Hello?”
There were a series of loud coughs. “I’m here. I’m here.”
“Pack Leader Nidvid!” he shouted as he recognized the familiar shrill voice. “Keep talking! Where are you?”
“Here. I’m here. Help me up.”
As she continued to cough, he had the sense to fish a flashlight out of his pocket, fumbling around until he found the on button. As the light activated, he could see Nidvid half-buried in the dirt, her lower limbs trapped beneath some sand from the broken sandbags.
“Pack Leader!” He got onto his front paws and started digging. “Are you injured?”
“I don’t think so,” she shook her head in the dim lighting as she experimentally wriggled her legs. “Here, I think I’m loose. Help me up.”
Motsotaer grasped her under her arms, and with a heavy grunt, pulled her out of the dirt.
“Whew,” she said, checking her body again for wounds. Nidvid looked around at the other bodies splayed in the bunker. “Oh no… Head Pack Leader…”
“That was a close one. I can’t believe you lived through that!”
“Yeah, me neither… Wait a second,” Nidvid said as she began rummaging through a pile of rubble near the Head Pack Leader’s body. “The radio…”
“What are you looking for?” he asked as he aimed his flashlight towards where she was looking.
“Oh no, no, no…” her voice trailed off as she picked up the device she’d been looking for. “Our hardline communicator…” It was clearly broken from the strike, its shell perforated with a hundred holes and its connection to the landline severed. In disgust, Nidvid threw it back to the ground.
“What uh— what did you need that for?” Motsotaer asked. “Were we supposed to tell them we were being attacked?”
“No… It was— before the strike, we got a high priority order.”
“A high priority order?”
Nidvid recalled, “There’s a special platoon in our salient… We were supposed to get an important message to them!”
“Special platoon?” Motsotaer asked. “Are you okay, Nidvid?”
“Yes, yes,” the Pack leader replied, visibly distraught. “They only had a physical line to us because they’re supposed to be keeping in the dark. Emissions control or something like that so they can activate the flying machine swarm in time. They said this was life and death and our whole defense line hinges on it!”
“Emissions control? Flying machines? Pack Leader, we should get you to a medic,” he said skeptically.
“No! Motsotaer, this is important. We need to get the message to them now. They’re only a couple kilometers south from our position. If we run over to their position now, it might not yet be—”
He looked up at her face in alarm. “Run to another position? Outside the trench line?”
“Yes! We have to go!” she said, as she peeked out of the concrete bunker towards the barren zone ahead of the trenches. “Now! Before they start their offensive.”
Motsotaer began to protest, “But that’s no creature’s land. If we get spotted by their troops, we’ll be hunted down by the Grass Eaters ships in orbit…”
She was insistent, “Pack Member Motsotaer, get it together. We still have a job to do. Are you with me or are you going to sit here and die like a coward to the long-ears?”
“Yes, ma’am,” he said, straightening up. Death or not, he was no coward. “I mean… I’m with you.”
“Good. Then let’s go.”
With a grunt, she leapt out of the trenches and jogged south, keeping to the defensive side of it for the modicum of cover it provided, and Motsotaer quickly followed. As they sprinted away from the tattered defenses, they ran into a thick tree line that hopefully provided them with some concealment from the Grass Eater ships above.
After a couple more minutes of running in the forest, Motsotaer started to tire and pant. He weighed his burning lung and how embarrassed he’d be if he complained. Luckily for his ego, Nidvid gestured for them to stop after another minute and tossed him her canteen. “Take a break before we get going.”
He chugged as much water as he could in a single swig, and returned the canteen to Nidvid. He gasped out, “How much further, Pack Leader?”
“About one more kilometer south,” she said, aiming her snout up at the treetops. “I recognize the smell of this area.”
“What’s this even about? The message… what was it?”
Nidvid exercised her limbs. “That Grass Eater artillery strike… it was to prepare for their offensive on our lines. They’ve gathered an armored division on the other side of that,” she pointed out into the barren fields beyond the trees. “We have an hour at most before they roll over us.”
“An armored division?!” Motsotaer squeaked. The enemy’s Longclaws — their armored vehicles — were legendary. They could kill from kilometers away. And their thick shells protected them against all but the most powerful artillery in the Federation’s arsenal. He’d never seen one of them personally. If he had, he suspected he wouldn’t be alive to tell anyone about it. “What can we do against a Grass Eater armored division?”
“That’s why we have to get to the special platoon,” Nidvid replied. She pointed in the southern direction, “You ready? Let’s go.”
They galloped for a few more minutes. Motsotaer’s limbs tired and his breaths shallowed as his lung burnt. As he was contemplating whether to ask for another break, Nidvid pointed at a shape in the distance. “There, that’s their position!”
He squinted at it. It was not easy to see, but buried in the tree line was what looked like a bunch of out-of-place branches and leaves over a small vehicle. Buoyed by the anticipation of the end of the marathon, he managed to keep up with Nidvid’s pace.
As they approached, there was a loud shout.
“Hi-yah! Stop!”
They halted their steps and looked for the source of the voice.
“Not one more paw step, deserter! This is a restricted area! Turn around or you’ll be shot!”
Motsotaer looked up at the voice hidden up in the branches. After a moment, with some help from his nose, he found the yeller. It was a short, stout middle-aged male with strange-looking green and brown paint smeared all over his fur and face. He had a rifle aimed squarely at the duo.
“Don’t shoot!” Nidvid yelled back. “We’re runners. We’ve got an important message! For your platoon commander.”
The male in the tree looked suspiciously at them as he leapt down. He lowered his rifle, but didn’t seem any less on guard. “A message?”
“Yes, we’ve got an urgent message for Special Platoon Commander Graunsa. Take us to him right now!”
He sized the two of them up. After a moment, he said slowly, “I am Graunsa. Why are you here, and what is the message?”
Nidvid recovered some of her breath and explained, “The Grass Eaters hit us hard with an artillery strike. Our Head Pack Leader is dead. Our landline is gone. We ran all the way over from our lines north of you.”
Graunsa nodded and gestured for her to continue.
“The Grass Eater armored offensive is about to start. They’re moving into position and ready to go, and there’s a special message embedded—”
“Wait a second,” Graunsa interrupted. “Give me the special message exactly, without omission or your own interpretations.”
“Yes, Platoon Commander,” Nidvid nodded. “The message is: bunny water carriers are in play, red-five-zero-eight; come out of the dark and introduce yourself. Authorization is three-three-greyhound.”
Graunsa looked thoughtful for a moment as he pondered it.
“What does the message mean?” Motsotaer whispered at Nidvid.
“I have no idea,” she shrugged, whispering back. “The Head Pack Leader just told me to memorize it.”
The platoon commander seemed to have made up his mind. “Alright, that seems legitimate. Thanks for the message.” He turned around to leave.
Motsotaer shouted behind him, “Wait, what are we supposed to do now?”
Graunsa turned around. “I don’t know. I’m not your commanding officer.” He paused for a moment. “I wouldn’t recommend going back to your lines though. Might not be there when you get back…”
“What?!”
“You can’t just leave us! Where else are we supposed to go?” Nidvid asked.
Graunsa seemed to contemplate the question for a few heartbeats and sighed, “You said you’re from the position up north?”
“Yup,” they replied in unison.
“And you’re a spotter, Pack Member?” he asked, looking at the rank and position patch on Motsotaer’s chest.
“Yes.”
Graunsa relented. “Fine. We might find a use for you. Get into the bunker… before the Grass Eaters in orbit see us dawdling out here.”
“What? Where?”
The officer pointed at a patch of dark green leaves on the forest floor. As they approached it, he grasped a latch and lifted it to reveal a ladder. The three of them descended into the darkness and Graunsa secured it behind them. With a quiet swoosh, a lamp mounted on the wall lit up to reveal a small hallway leading to a heavy-looking door.
Graunsa knocked on it twice. He turned around and looked at Motsotaer and Nidvid. “What you’re about to see in here is of the highest secrecy level of the Malgeir Federation. If you tell anyone what you see in here, you will be executed for treason. Do you understand?”
“Yes, Platoon Commander.”
“Swear it, on your honor.”
“We swear,” they replied in unison, their voices infused with growing excitement.
“Good enough for me.”
The heavy steel door swung open, showing a room that was vastly different from what its primitive exterior suggested. It resembled a command center far more than a field base, and Motsotaer felt a blast of cold air conditioning in his face as he passed the door threshold.
At the front, a main screen showed a map of the defensive lines in the sector. Facing it, two rows of sleek, new computer screens lit up the dark. Their operators worked busily at their controls, and only a couple faces looked their way in mild interest as they entered.
“What is this—” Motsotaer started to ask. Nidvid grasped his shoulder and shushed him.
Graunsa cleared his throat. Several faces looked towards him in anticipation. “Platoon, we just got the message. Activate the FTL handshake and authenticate us in the network.”
“Yes, sir.” A young-looking communication officer near the front operated a few controls on her console. “I’ve got the advisors on the line.”
Motsotaer read his nametag: Gassin. She was a Gamma Leader, much higher ranked than he, but she looked not a day over twenty. He noted that many of the people in the room sported high-ranking insignias despite their apparent youth.
“On screen,” Graunsa ordered.
A communication window appeared on the main screen, streaming video of someone in a jet-black EVA suit.
Motsotaer stiffened. It was obvious that the subject was alien; at around 1.7 or 1.8 meters, it was far too tall for being a Malgeir. Too small for a Granti. And from the side profile of the suit, it didn’t bulge nearly enough for the tails that the Malgeir’s Schpriss neighbors were known for. A strange new species of aliens.
From the blackened visor, it was obvious that whoever that was… it was the reason for all this tight secrecy.
“Special Platoon Commander Graunsa,” it transmitted in perfect Malgeirish. The alien was either a trained-from-birth Federation Channel One newscaster with a perfectly inoffensive accent, or its translator was far better than anything the Malgeir themselves had invented. “This call is encrypted, but the enemy Znosians in orbit are trying to find your location from the signals, so we’ll have to make it as quick as we can. Have your defensive lines completed your preparations?”
Graunsa stepped up to address the screen directly, “Yes, advisor. Our fire support platoon is ready for tasking.”
“Excellent. Transmitting the first batch of targets in your sector now.”
A series of symbols scrolled onto the screen, showing a number of coordinates.
“We’re getting the enemy positions now,” Gassin exclaimed.
Graunsa turned to her and nodded his appreciation, “Sixteen armored targets. Weapons free.”
“Yes, sir. Programming the sequence.”
A camera on the main screen activated, remotely showing a small hole with some machinery in it dug a few hundred meters away just at the edge of the tree line.
“Launching flying machine swarm!”
As Motsotaer watched, a thicket of metal erupted from the hole in a blur, roaring into the sky.
The main screen was replaced by a four-by-four of windows of black and white images. It took him a couple seconds to realize that he was looking at the battlefield from above. The Malgeir had rotary wing, airplanes, and jet — some were even armed, but they were usually much bigger. And their air assets had been grounded since the early days of the battle for Datsot when the enemy took the orbits.
Not these tiny devices though.
He focused on one of the sixteen windows.
The ground sped past below the camera’s vision, tree line after tree line, the flying machine seemed to know where it was going by itself: Motsotaer looked at the other occupants in the room. None of them seemed to be directly controlling it.
He stiffened.
Is this controlled by a thinking machine?
“We’re getting in range of the target coordinates, Platoon Commander,” Gassin updated the room a few minutes later.
As if on cue, the flying machines flew higher, and the trees on the ground grew smaller, as if further away. Until…
“Targets identified!” Gassin reported with excitement in her voice.
As an infantry spotter, Motsotaer had been trained — barely — to identify enemy armored vehicles. As in, he’d been given a cheatsheet containing the silhouettes of the different types of vehicles the enemy drove. But even he couldn’t tell at this distance what the white-hot smudges on the screen were.
The machine had no such issues though.
Several red boxes materialized on the screen, clearly marking several enemy vehicles in the thermal imagery and adorning them with detailed information.
The one Motsotaer was watching said:
Hostile vehicle, Longclaw MK4 (top armor: ~25mm), 4.2 km.
No hostile EW detected.
Without additional prompting, the flying machines raced in towards their targets, each recognizing a different one as its final destination. Afraid to blink, Motsotaer stared intently at one of the video streams.
A new line of text appeared at the top of the screen:
ETA 20 seconds.
It counted down the seconds, number by number.
The enemy Longclaw got larger and larger until… the screen went black, replaced by static. As he looked around, the other windows were similarly replaced with static one-by-one.
Motsotaer frowned, wondering where the videos had gone.
Then, it hit him. The flying machines were on one-way trips.
The sixteen windows disappeared, and another one appeared, showing the enemy assembly area from a much higher perspective. And instead of the vehicles he expected, he counted sixteen burning wrecks, the black smoke from their flames reaching up into the sky in columns.
“Targets destroyed, Commander,” Gassin said. Several of the officers in the room looked at each other excitedly, but their celebration was muted.
Graunsa nodded. “Call our advisors again.”
The alien appeared on the screen again. “Excellent work, Platoon Commander. We’re assessing the lines and getting the second batch of targets to you now.”
“Understood.”
As the new target coordinates scrolled onto the main screen, Gassin didn’t need additional prompting, “Launching flying machines!”
Another sixteen of them flashed out from the pre-dug position. Another sixteen windows appeared on the screen, replacing the odd-looking aliens’ video.
“Wait a minute,” the aliens’ voice cut into the quiet hum of the control room’s operation. “Switch back to the high-altitude drone. Something’s happening.”
The main screen’s image was replaced by the previous camera looking down at enemy lines. There was a flurry of activity in the enemy base area. Numerous dots representing the ground troops moved to-and-fro. And worryingly, the red squares that surrounded enemy armor began appearing en masse as enemy Longclaws drove out of their covered positions into the open.
Dozens of them.
Then, hundreds. And more appeared every second.
“What’s going on?” Graunsa asked, his voice reflecting Motsotaer’s worry.
The alien took a minute to get back to him, its black helmeted face filling up the screen again. “They’re attacking. They don’t know what hit them in the last strike. But they must have realized that they’re not safe in their assembly area, and they’re doing the only thing they can… We estimate they’ll get to your first lines in thirty minutes.”
“Can we stop them?” Graunsa asked. “We can—”
The alien looked directly into the video. “Not sixteen drones at a time. And if you launch the whole swarm at once, it’ll reflect enough signal for them to sniff out where you are with their counter-battery radars and take you out from orbit.”
Graunsa swallowed. “That’s— that’s— The machines can fly themselves without us, right?”
The alien didn’t say anything for a few heartbeats. “Theoretically, yes. But even if you evacuate your position now, your people won’t get out of range from the orbital strike they’ll call in.”
“I understand. Feed us the enemy targets.”
“Delta Leader, we can’t ask you to—”
“I said, feed us the enemy targets,” Graunsa insisted.
Quietly, hundreds of coordinate pairs filed onto the main screen. Graunsa looked at the faces of the young officers under his command. Dozens of them. He turned around to look at his two guests. “I’m sorry,” he said.
“It’s the right choice,” Nidvid replied, shrugging.
Motsotaer nodded at him.
“I know,” Graunsa said, turning back to the main screen. “Just doesn’t make it any easier.”
“Sir, we’re ready to launch,” Gassin reported.
“Weapons free. Release everything.”
“Yes, sir.”
The ground shook and rumbled, hundreds of flying machines leaving their canisters for the sky. They were close enough to hear the outgoing buzzing as the munitions launched. This time, more and more windows filled up the screen with the visuals of the outgoing flying machines — hundreds of them, and Motsotaer was surprised that the computers could even handle it all.
The visage of the alien returned to their screen. It said calmly, “Enemy orbital launch spotted. Multiple launches. High yield. Missiles incoming to your location, ETA twelve minutes.”
“Understood, advisor.”
POV: Slurskoch, Znosian Dominion Marines (Rank: Five Whiskers)
“Scramble! Scramble! Scramble!”
Riiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiing.
“What’s going on?” Longclaw Commander Slurskoch sat up in his turret cupola as the sirens rang loud through the hull.
“We’re under artillery attack!” his Controller yelled back at him through the roaring startup sequence of the turbine anti-grav engines. “The Lesser Predators… they’ve got some kind of new weapon! Took out a whole battalion’s worth of Longclaws in the 194!”
“But we’re not ready!” his Driver complained. “Our artillery is supposed to pound them for another hour before we—”
Slurskoch shook his head as he checked the friendly force tracker on his screen. “Doesn’t matter! If they’ve got some new weapon, we can’t sit still while we get pounded to bits by whatever they have. We gotta get out there. Hurry it up!”
It took them another two minutes to fully warm up the engines, and with a roar, the Longclaw burst out of its camouflaged emplacement, kicking up a curtain of dirt in front of it.
“Let’s go! Go! Go!” Slurskoch yelled as his lagging Longclaw joined the armored formation already on the move.
The Controller spoke with one of her ears in the radio, “Their artillery just launched… something at us. We’ve pinpointed their location, and orbital support is on its way.”
His Gunner whooped twice, and Slurskoch nodded silently in agreement. That’d flatten those carnivorous abominations where they stood. He drew a few symbols and circles on the digital battlemap as the Longclaws drove toward the enemy lines. “Gunner, watch those potential trench lines in front of us,” he instructed. “Their anti-armor may not look scary on paper, but their infantry can always get a lucky hit in.”
Slurskoch was taught in training that it was better to overestimate the enemy than underestimate them. Luckily, the predators usually fell below expectations, which was why the Dominion controlled the orbits of Datsot now and not them.
His Controller frowned at something in her radio, “They’re saying something about the enemy artillery… The engineers at the base assessed the strike aftermath. There’s something strange in the rubble. The attack was more precise than anything we’d ever seen.”
“What does that mean?” Slurskoch asked in confusion.
“The sensor officer in charge of the assembly area has taken full responsibility. They didn’t see the incoming at all. Higher ups are speculating that the Lesser Predators have a new weapon in their arsenal.”
“The predators made new weapons?” Slurskoch snorted. “Useful ones? That’ll be a first. Well, whatever it is, maybe our Design Bureau will get a good look at it when we finally cleanse this planet of their filth. Make our next battle a little easier when we have to take their home planet.”
His Gunner agreed, “And then, the Prophecy shall be fulfilled.”
A few kilometers into the charge across the open, the Gunner remarked with one eye on her targeting computer, “Looks like even the local winged predators know that there’s about to be a slaughter here.”
The Driver, in his open hatch, looked up at the cloud of them flying over the enemy lines. “Looks like it. A nice juicy feast for them in the coming battle. The irony of the barbaric carnivores being eaten by themselves.”
A few thousand years ago, winged predators would have curdled the blood of any natural-born Znosian. On the original plains of Znos, they were one of the most dangerous threats a lone Znosian faced. Now, that fear had been completely bred out of the gene pool, replaced with contempt for predatory primitivism, the courage to face them in battle, and the drive to exterminate them all.
Curious, Slurskoch stared up into the cloud of winged predators with his Longclaw commander optics. He frowned.
One of them shimmered.
Shimmered.
He zoomed in.
Then, he saw a metallic glint. His whiskers tightened.
“That’s— those aren’t winged predators,” he barely made out in shock. “Incoming!”
“Huh?” his Driver asked, craning his head up to look at the dark shapes in the distance.
“Get inside! Secure the hatch!” Slurskoch shouted at him.
His Driver was not very good at thinking on his own, but he had been bred to follow direct orders without question. He ducked into his seat, quickly securing the hatch above him close with trained claws.
He barely secured the Longclaw as other commanders began yelling out similar instructions on their radios.
“Incoming!” his Controller advised, about ten seconds later than necessary. “Enemy… artillery?!”
“Gunner!” Slurskoch gestured in the general direction of the sky.
“I can’t get a shot on them. They’re too high up!” she screamed back at him.
A trio of air defense vehicles next to him opened up with their six barrels towards the sky, lines of bright tracers stabbing out at the dark swarm. He saw one of the… flying machines hit and fall out of the sky. Then another.
It wasn’t enough.
As Slurskoch’s optics tracked the incoming, he saw them dive. They were fast, and they flew erratic patterns, almost organically, like actual winged beasts. If he hadn’t had that specific fear bred out of his bloodline hundreds of years ago, he would have been frozen in shock. Instead, he yelled out, “Brace! Brace!”
Boom. Boom. Boom.
The world exploded around his Longclaw.
Through his friendly force tracker, Slurskoch watched an entire battalion disappear off the map on his right flank, and two Longclaws in his line of sight brewed up in massive fireballs, throwing their turrets into the sky as their plasma ammunition detonated. One of the anti-air vehicles brewed up next to his, splattering its parts against his hull.
His Driver drove for all he was worth, ducking and weaving in the open field. So did the other Longclaws. Some deployed curtains of smoke in front of them in desperation.
None of it seemed to help.
The shockwaves hit his Longclaw in quick succession, knocking him around the armored cabin and rattling his teeth.
Boom. Boom.
More Longclaws exploded. Many more. They were disappearing off his screen faster than the software could update the signals. He closed his eyes waiting for the end.
It didn’t come.
It was hard for Slurskoch to tell when the last Longclaw near them was hit. His hearing organs must have been damaged some time during the attack. His auditory senses ringed as they returned to normal, recovering when his Controller shook him with a paw on his shoulder. “—Five Whiskers! Five Whiskers!”
“What is it?” he snapped, keeping the quivering out of his voice.
“We’re alone in our company, and I can’t contact the six whiskers! And I’ve been trying to reach battalion without success!”
“Try the regiment commander!” he yelled out against the noise of the anti-grav engine.
“Can’t reach them either!”
“What about division headquarters?!”
“I think division’s gone, sir!”
“What?!”
“Nobody there has been responding. All I’ve got is a seven whiskers in the reserve infantry division behind us! They’re saying they see black smoke in the direction of our division field command!”
“What in the Prophecy? How is that possible?!”
“What do we do, Five Whiskers?”
Slurskoch had been trained for a wide variety of combat scenarios and contingencies, including losing his immediate superiors, losing most of his unit, and losing his communication link to command. But he’d never been trained for all of those combined at once. That was just not something predators were supposed to be able to do to you.
He fell back to the next best thing.
“What’s the combat computer say?” he asked.
His Controller operated the controls on her console, and after half a minute of querying, she replied, reading off the instructions, “Absent orders, continue the attack. Maybe we can push through.”
“What? Did it take our losses into account?” he protested as he checked the battlemap. Of the nearly five hundred Longclaws that had pushed out of the assembly area, only a quarter remained. At most. Some of the signals on the map were flagging themselves as mobility or mission killed.
She shrugged, “It did. That’s what it says.”
He squinted at her screen. That was indeed what it said.
Slurskoch thought for a moment, sighed, and bowed in prayer, “Our lives were forfeited the day we left our hatchling pools.”
The other crew members all did the same, lowering their heads to mutter the familiar mantra.
That ritual out of the way, he drew up to his full height of 1 meter and mustered all the confidence he could into his voice, “Attack! Attack! Attack!”
POV: Graunsa, Malgeir Federation Planetary Defense Force (Rank: Delta Leader)
The command center watched glumly as the hundred or so surviving Grass Eater Longclaws emerged from the wrecks of their comrades and slowly resumed their charge across the open toward the defense lines.
The flying machines had gotten a lot of them. Quite a few disabled too. And they were disorganized from the loss of their command. Yet they still charged. Diminished as their numbers were, they rolled towards the battered defensive lines with psychotic determination.
We’ve failed.
Graunsa sat down heavily into his chair. He brought up his communication console, connecting it to the advisor network.
The alien appeared on the screen, and though he couldn’t see its face, he could hear the sympathy in its translated voice, “You’ve done all you can, Special Platoon Commander.”
“It wasn’t enough,” he said, shaking his ears sadly. “They’re going to break through our line. Our infantry can’t stop them.”
It tilted its head. “I wouldn’t count them out completely, Delta Leader. They might. They might not. But your next defensive line certainly will hold them. The city behind you will be held.”
“Tracking enemy orbit-to-ground. ETA three minutes,” Gassin reported quietly from next to him.
Graunsa sighed. He looked at the alien, “I think I understand your people now, advisor.”
“You… do?”
“Yeah, at first, when we were picked for this mission, I wondered why your people were doing this.”
“Doing this?” the alien asked, seeming confused.
“Helping us. The weapons. The equipment. The training. The targeting. It was all in secret, but you didn’t have to do it. The other species around us didn’t do it. The Schpriss…” Graunsa snorted, “The long-tails can’t even find it in their spines to send us field rations. I thought your species… your people were just generous. Or perhaps you simply enjoyed the craft of war, being so adept at it.”
“Are we… not?”
“Those reasons may be part of it,” he conceded. “But more importantly, I think your people understand one thing the other species don’t… that we might stop the enemy here. Or we might not.”
“We didn’t set you up to fail, if that’s what you think—”
“But the next defensive line certainly will hold them,” Graunsa said, staring the alien in the eye. “You will hold them. Isn’t that right?”
It sighed. “I would be lying if that wasn’t part of the strategic equation. Our star systems are indeed next in line — sometime in the next decade or two, probably — if these bloodthirsty Buns conquered your Federation. That harsh astropolitical realism. But there’s something else too.”
“Is there?”
“Yes,” it nodded its head firmly in a familiar manner. “Yes, there is. We aren’t a particularly long-sighted species, Graunsa. We can plan, yes, but wars are fought by true believers. People don’t sign up to put their lives on the line for a hypothetical, potential invasion of our Republic twenty years in the future. They— we signed up for this because we truly believe what’s happening to your people… it shouldn’t happen to anyone, ever.”
Graunsa looked at the helmeted head for a while, then nodded. “I believe you, advisor.”
“I’m sorry this didn’t pan out, Graunsa. If I could, I’d be down there with you. We’d have made them pay for this.”
Graunsa smiled. “I believe you about that too. Thank you, advisor, whatever your name is.”
“You may call me Kara,” it said simply. A deft snap of its paws — he hadn’t noticed how soft its claws were before — and it released a latch on its helmet with a hiss. Lifting it from its head, it revealed a soft, smooth face without much fur except a bundle of long, brown strands on its scalp tied up in a neat spherical shape. Its hazel forward-facing eyes stared at him with the empathy that only other predators were capable of, filling him with mild relief. “Don’t tell anyone though,” it joked lightly, mirroring his smile back at him.
You’re not as ugly as I thought you’d be. Not nearly.
Graunsa’s grin widened at the thought. He put it out of his mind. “Ah. One last thing, advisor— Kara.”
“Yes?”
His mind drifted to his cubs at home. Perhaps they were still alive. He chose to believe that. “Our people’s clans and packs…”
“We’ll let them know,” she interrupted him softly. “And when the information quarantine is lifted, we’ll let your clans and packs know what you did here — everything.”
“Good. Thank you.”
Gassin sat down next to him, “Delta Leader, enemy missiles incoming. ETA thirty seconds, they’re entering—” She stopped her report and stared at the unmasked alien on his screen with equal parts wonder and sadness.
“Take a closer look, Gassin,” he ordered softly. “That… that is who will avenge us.”
On screen, the alien put its gloved paw up to its temple, forming a stiff triangle with its arm in a recognizable salute. “It was an honor, Graunsa.”
Graunsa returned it crisply, letting a primitive fire shine through his face. “Happy hunting, Kara.”

Location: Atlas Naval Command, Luna

POV: “Kara”, Terran Reconnaissance Office
Kara watched solemnly as the green signal blinked off the battlemap. She closed her eyes for a moment in silent prayer for the fallen.
Beep. Beep.
Another light on her console blinked urgently for her attention. Four thousand kilometers from the previous one. The war raged on — day and night — across four continents on the besieged planet. Fifty light years from the Republic, its defenders’ sweat, tears, and blood lined the fields and valleys of the beautiful blue sphere not so different from her own. Tens of millions of them: many who she knew would not see the end of this war.
They didn’t all know it, and some might not have cared, but fifty light years away, someone recorded their names, and someone felt a pang of loss for their sacrifice. In the cold, dark forest of the galaxy, somebody heard their trees fall.
Kara collected her thoughts, adjusted the bun in her hair, and lowered the tinted EVA helmet over her face once more.
She cleared her throat as she glanced at the screen and activated the microphone in her helmet, “Special Platoon Commander Treiriu. This call is encrypted, but the enemy Znosians in orbit are trying to find your location from the signals, so we’ll have to make it as quick as we can. Have your defensive lines completed your preparations?”

Meta

Thanks for reading my story! This is a standalone chapter in my Grass Eaters story, meant to be enjoyable all on its own. If you're interested in more of my writing, please do subscribe to the update waffle bot or check out the rest of the universe in Grass Eaters.
(Grass Eaters posts every Monday, Wednesday, and Friday. We are closing in on the end of Book 1.)

https://chipstero7.wordpress.com/2023/05/24/is-baphomet-an-esoteric-representation-of-jesus-christ/
Quote from my article that discusses this (20% of 100%):
Baphomet is a symbol that has generated intrigue and controversy throughout history. It’s associated with occultism, mystery traditions, and the Knights Templar. While its origins and meanings are subject to interpretation, some individuals have proposed intriguing parallels between Baphomet and Christ. A notable parallel lie in their association with duality. Baphomet’s depicted as androgynous in nature and represents the equilibration of opposites and the integration of masculine and feminine energies. Christ is likewise depicted (especially in paintings) as androgynous and in ancient text is sometimes described as a merging of the male and the female. Drawing from the insights of the 15th-century book ‘Book of the Holy Treaty’, historian Leah De Vun describes the text as saying that Christ and Mary were originally a unified entity — an alchemical hermaphrodite. Describing the text — De Vun characterizes Christ as the “ultimate hermaphrodite, a unity of contrary parts, the human and the divine, the male and the female”. This idea of Christ as a hermaphrodite finds support in the writings of early Christian theologian Hippolytus, who, like the Ophites, considered Christ to be of dual genders.¹ Artistic representations of Christ, such as the painting “The Lamentation around the remains of Christ”, underscore this idea, showing Christ with female breasts akin to Baphomet. Some propose that the name “Jesus Christ” could represent the merging of two distinct entities or names into one. This idea is bolstered by the identification of “Jesus” as an ancient name for Isis, referred to as “Esus” in hieroglyphic inscriptions,² and “Christ” as a name historically associated with Osiris (see the book ‘Christ in Egypt: The Horus-Jesus Connection’). Within this framework, Isis and Osiris serve as possible precursors for the Biblical figures Mary and Christ.
This union or merging of Mary and Christ into a hermaphrodite like Baphomet represent twin souls becoming one and the accomplishment of the Philosopher’s Stone. The Philosopher’s Stone represents the alchemical process of inner transformation, leading to the ultimate goal of Divine Union. Divine Union refers to a spiritual state of unity and connection with the divine or higher consciousness. In essence, it refers to the coming together of twin souls, similar to how Christ merges with Mary or how Osiris merges with Isis. According to Manly Palmer Hall, in his book ‘Initiates of the Flame’, the “marriage of the Sun and Moon” represents the accomplishment of the Philosopher’s Stone. For the ancient Egyptians, the Moon represented Isis and the Sun represented Osiris and their union created Horus who was the fusion of both his parents and a divine hermaphrodite. In his book ‘Gods Wear Spandex’, Chris Knowles says: “The Chemical Wedding referred to the work of the alchemists, who sought to marry the masculine and feminine properties of creation and produce the Royal Hermaphrodite, which some historians have linked to Harpocrates (Younger Horus)”. In the ancient mysteries, the ultimate aim of the philosophers was not to transform lead chemically into gold, but transform man and woman into the divine hermaphrodite, merging the opposites; the male and the female. This is ultimately what Baphomet represents. It represents the idea that true spiritual enlightenment and wholeness come from embracing and integrating both the masculine and feminine aspects of creation. This union of opposites is seen as a path to spiritual balance and ultimate transcendence. This integration of the male and female is also represented by Rebis, which is a 15th-century figure used to symbolize the Magnum Opus or Great Work.
The connections between Christ and Baphomet are not widely recognized or agreed upon, but esoteric interpretations have been proposed. For example, in his book ‘Baphomet of Éliphas Lévi’, Abraxas Aletheia argues that Baphomet is an esoteric symbol of Christ, saying: “Contrary to popular belief, Baphomet is an image of an esoteric Jesus Christ created from a composite of alchemical, Kabbalistic and Christian symbols”. One such connection symbolically between Baphomet and Christ can be found in Baphomet’s caducous which matches the Christogram which is a monogram or combination of letters that forms an abbreviation for Christ’s name. One of Baphomet’s most recognizable symbols is the pentagram emblazoned on its forehead. The pentagram is commonly associated with Christ. In Christian tradition, the pentagram is seen as a symbolic connection to the five wounds of Christ. In certain esoteric traditions, the pentagram has been linked to the planet Venus, called the Morning Star or the Evening Star, depending on its appearance in the sky. This is of relevance, because Christ describes himself as the bright Morning Star in the Book of Revelation (22:16). One of the earliest connections between Baphomet and Christ can be found in the mythology surrounding the Knights Templar, a medieval Christian military order. Some have suggested that the Baphomet head that the Knights Templars venerated was the head of Christ. In her book ‘The Templars: The Secret History Revealed’, Barbara Frale says: “The last point raised in the indictment against the Templars concerned the secret veneration of an idol in the shape of a bearded head. There is clear evidence of the existence of image of Christ in the religious life of the order, as well as a mysterious cult devoted to the Sacred Blood”. Frale’s essentially suggesting that the Baphomet head was that of Christ. This same idea was the subject of the book ‘The Head of God: The Lost Treasure of the Templars’, by Keith Laidler.

Post already yesterday on SoList.Blog
To those who don’t look much, all lists appear the same. It’s a group of some items and some special symbols to mark each. Others, who work with checklists regularly, might see that there are some differences, but not that many. But when you start digging, it’s easy to notice that you can’t still share this relaxed look. You can’t even give the universal checklist to write any other checklist because they and their circumstances are too different.
Investigating lists and checklists variations looks like an adventurous topic. They usually don’t lie on the ground below the trees, and to find more about them, you need to ask people. This blog post is the result of the first such asking and a consequent discussion. I hope that there will be more “So Real List” in the future.
On Reddit recently, I asked a question in the productivity community about how people use checklists. In response, one of the Reddit users gracefully shared with me the approach to do the day planning. The approach is based on using lists combined with the functionalities of the Scrivener application. This blog is more about lists than applications, so I will focus on their mechanics. We’ll go through the steps of this approach, and you’ll see its beauty. I, the author of the blog, don’t know a lot about the life of the one who responded to me, so the contents of the day will be completely imaginary. However, I hope to keep the essence of the day planning process.
Early in the morning, when the first bold golden and orange rays of sun touch the ground, the Scrivener application is opened. It’s an application for writers built around the texts and their structure. One of these texts contains the triple-sided heart of the planning system: list of routines, list of projects, and action list.
List of routines contains regular actions: daily, weekly, monthly ones. They are split into work and personal. Something like the following list.
List of routines:

• Daily
  • Work
    • Avoid reading emails or messages before 10:00 am.
    • Ensure the planned activities correspond to project priorities.
    • Invest one hour doing high-priority activities.
  • Personal
    • Spray the flowers:
• Weekly
  • Work
    • Combine the results of the working week.
    • Reflect on the weekly results.
  • Personal
    • Water the flowers:
    • Replace the towels.
• Monthly
  • Work
    • Overview the monthly results of the team.
  • Personal
    • Plan and do a day-long bicycle trip:

Something is quite straightforward, like “Replace the towels”. This is called a task. Something is more complex, like “Spray flowers”. There are 3 nested subtasks for it. The name for complex task in this system is task package.
List of projects is about the goals that don’t repeat regularly but are still important.
List of projects:

• Update refrigerator:
  • Watch a YouTube video about the best general use refrigerators for this year.
  • Choose the most attractive one.
  • Read the reviews on it outside YouTube.
  • Schedule the delivery date.
  • Buy the new refrigerator.
• Update the documentation of the onboarding processes.
  • Discover the current documentation:
    • Look at the public electronic materials.
    • Ask for the brochures HRs pass to the newcomers.
  • Plan the documentation update.

Now it’s time to think of this very day with the actions list. The process is to overview two other lists and combine from its tasks or task packages the list for today. There are no subtasks, as the action list should be clear and concise. For the details of the task packages, please refer to either the routines list or the projects list.
Let’s imagine that today is… some arbitrary day. We seek the relevant items in the list of routines. Then we investigate the list of projects. Priorities are visible, and here is the action list for today:
Action list:

• Avoid reading emails or messages before 10:00 am.
• Ensure the planned activities correspond to project priorities.
• Invest one hour doing high-priority activities.
• Spray flowers.
• Overview the monthly results of the team.
• Discover the current documentation.

You know, this is as beautiful as mathematical operations on sets. The only difference is that the real productivity system contains not 10 routines and 2 projects, but much more.
Thank you for reading! If you have a story about using lists or checklists to make your life, work or business better, please write. It would be great to uncover more mysteries of these two.
Subscribe to https://www.solist.blog/ directly, the post was already there yesterday. You’ll then first receive beautiful emails with the new publications.

In today's ever-evolving world of fashion and self-expression, custom t-shirts have emerged as a symbol of individuality. Whether you're an artist showcasing your creativity, a brand making a statement, or simply someone who values unique fashion, Ideann provides the ultimate platform for designing custom t-shirts online. Here's how you can embark on the journey of creating your very own personalized t-shirts from the comfort of your home.
With Ideann, you have the power to infuse your personality into every thread. Craft shirts that reflect your interests, passions, or distinct personality, ensuring that each piece is a true representation of who you are. For businesses, Ideann serves as a powerful branding tool, allowing you to amplify your message and foster team spirit. Custom t-shirts also add a personal touch to special events, transforming them into unforgettable experiences.
To kickstart your creative process, navigate to Ideann's user-friendly platform. Explore an array of t-shirt styles and colors, from classic crew necks to trendy v-necks, to find the perfect canvas for your vision.
Once you've selected your preferred style, let your imagination run wild. Utilize Ideann's intuitive design tools to create or upload your own artwork, enabling seamless customization with text, graphics, or logos. With Ideann's real-time preview feature, you can fine-tune every aspect of your design, ensuring it's exactly as you envisioned before finalizing your creation.
Once satisfied with your design, select your desired quantity and sizes, then proceed to checkout. Ideann offers convenient bulk discounts, making it easy to order for groups or events. Sit back and relax as your custom t-shirts are expertly printed and delivered straight to your doorstep.
To ensure your design makes a lasting impression, focus on simplicity and clarity. Choose designs that are clean, visually captivating, and effectively communicate your message. Opt for high-resolution images to guarantee impeccable print quality and attention to detail.
Designing custom t-shirts online with Ideann is an exhilarating journey of self-expression. With endless customization options at your fingertips, Ideann empowers you to create apparel that is as unique as you are. So why wait? Start designing your custom t-shirt with Ideann today and let your style shine through!

Another variable color "purple" card. This one could be really powerful if you change its colors unexpectedly. Again, for those who haven't seen my other post, as you cast these types of spells, you would choose a color for each Purple symbol, and those symbols become the chosen colors for as long as the card is visible (tracks across zone changes). A card with Purple costs has only the abilities in segments of its text box that match its colors. These two rules are separated so colors can be changed later to add effects. These cards would definitely be printed with "colors matter" cards and color changing effects.
(Again, sorry mods for accidentally posting without an image)

5/15/24 co CEO Fortress announces closure of Fortress Mgt buyback from Softbank. Now Fortress is ready to roll at Novation Co NOVCQ a public company hidden by SEC Rule 15c2-11 with partners co investors Mass Mutual & sub Barings aka Babson Capital, Jefferies $JEF & White Mountain’s Capital $WTM & NOVCQ Board of Directors Barry Igdaloff’s Howard Amster & Whitney Tilson, Chuck Gillman, Jeffrey Eberwein, David Pointer, Tim Eriksen, Lee Keddie & Robert Pearse. These people are all connected and their 3 NOVCQ restructuring are all connected and advised by 3 third party professionals TPP Boulay Group, Olshan Law, Shapiro Sher. These TPP are no different then Sullivan Cromwell aiding the FTX scheme.
https://www.pionline.com/alternatives/fortress-mubadala-complete-acquisition-fortress-investment-group
World Leading Investors Fortress, EJF Capital aka FBR, MassMutual Barings, Jefferies, White Mountains Capital $WTM are about to create BILLIONS in Capital plus Hundreds of Millions in Cash Flow every year. This is how Whitney Tilson's pals Chuck Gillman, Jeff Eberwein and their co-investors siege control of Novation Companies $NOVC. Use SEC Rule 15C(2)-11 to drive share price down, while taking 16M or 10% of stock at pennies as partial board compensation. Equipped with 40M common shares of NOVCQ they are ready to make Billions plus Create $100Ms every year in cash flow in dividends/Mgt Fees. They have a world class roster of investors supporting them including; MassMutual Barings/Jefferies 40M and Fortress/EJF Capital 31.3M NOVCQ common shares (EJF formerly FBR is owned by White Mountains Capital $WTM). Fortress/EJF Capital also own $NOVCQ only Sr Debt to exit their 1st Ch 11 MD and was used in 2nd Ch 11 in DE filed 8/13/2024. Fortress/EJF invested a few thousand dollars in Off Balance Sheet entities Taberna Trups CDOs I & II/Kodiak CDO I, that hold NOVCQ only Sr Debt. After the 1st Ch 11 NOVCQ Board of Director Barry Igdaloff, Howard Amster hands Fortress/EJF Capital 31M shares allocated by Board at zero basis. This proves NOVCQ Board of Directors was not independent from Sr Debt Holders Fortress/EJF Capital. Sr Debt was a ruse including its use in DE Ch 11. DE Ch 11 was carefully crafted to provide short sellers a way to take tax free gains. The Board with little cash invested holds control of this former NYSE MREIT Novastar Financial Inc. traded under MREIT NYSE Exemption $NFI now Novation $NOVCQ.
Per WSJ Wesley Edens of Fortress is the new MREIT Subprime KING after restructuring Mr. Cooper $COOP and OMF One Main aka LEAF AIG and Citi Bank Subprime CaPersonal Lending unit, and RITM/NRZ and Dynex Capital DX. Manny Friedman Founder of EJF Capital formerly FBR Friedman, Billings Ramsey, is regarded as a leading MREIT expert. They control Novation Companies Inc. NOVCQ thanks to $NOVCQ Board of Directors who they have a past relationship. They renamed Novastar Financial Inc. former traded NSYE as $NFI to Novation Companies, which owns MREIT Novastar Financial Inc., renamed Novastar Mortgage inside 2nd Ch 11 in DE. A new 8-Member Board is waiting in the wings with new name/symbol. I have been told they have big plans for NOVCQ only operating unit http://healthcare-staffing.com HCS which owns and conceals Medmasa http://medmasa.com
I believe they will merge HCS/Medmasa with Jeff Eberwein Hudson Global $HSON to create quarter billion tax free BPO public company. Jeffrey Eberwein is the former NOVCQ COB/CEO that managed 1st Ch 11 in MD with Shapiro Sher. Eberwein is now COB/CEO of Hudson Global $HSON. This merger will monetize NOVCQ $730M NOLs just like both CH 11 the 1st in Maryland, MD & 2nd or last in Delaware, DE. Both used Sr Debt as ruse to execute both Ch 11s which have gone to great length to save NOVCQ $730M NOLs. 2022 NOVCQ triggered SEC Rule 15c(2)-11 which allows NOVCQ to remain public but conceals who is buying NOVCQ as only Expert Investors can accumulate NOVCQ like Putnam Inv. Goldman Sachs, Blackrock & David Dreman of Dreman Value Mgt. and Thomas Akin Talkot Capital fund owns 1.9M common. This SEC Rule is postured as way for small public company to remain public and not have the cost burden of SEC filings. What it really does is stops Retail bid/ask and allows Expert Investors in the know to front run a public company before rolling out true reorganization plans.
They are ready to change Novation Co $NOVCQ name and brand so as to eliminate any reference to the prior board or brand. This is how they roll. I believe they will present the new name/symbol and 8-Member Board comprised of Fortress, EJF Capital aka FBR people once Fortress Management close Softbank SALE of Fortress (DONE See Top 5/15/24 Announcement) to them and Mubadala Investment Company ex Fortress executive Rajeev Misra. Whitney Tilson close small cap co-investors Chuck Gillman, Jeff Eberwein are at the center. I’ve been told they do nothing but sure things. Former George Soros Investments Portfolio Mgr. Jeff Eberwein Wharton MBA, is ready to take $NOVC http://medmasa.com conceal behind http://healthcare-staffing.com & $730M NOLs. This 8-Member Board connected to past Board Members Jeff Eberwein, Chuck Gillman, Barry Igdaloff, Howard Amster I believe will merge Medmasa/HCS with Hudson Global $HSON (see Jefferey Eberwein Form 4s at $HSON & Form 4s filed at NOVCQ between April-Oct 2015 via his fund Lone Star Value Mgt.). Jeff Eberwein & his clan including Whitney Tilson/Chuck Gillman were introduced to the present day NOVCQ Board Barry Igdaloff, Howard Amster. Wes Edens, Founder of Fortress hide their identity behind Off Balance Sheet OBE Entities Taberna Trups CDOs I and II and former FBR Friedman, Billings, Ramsey now called http://EJFCap.com also hide their identity behind OBE Kodiak CDO I.
Fortress/EJF own at the same time both the only Sr Debt to exit 1st Ch 11 MD and months afterward 31M NOVCQ common (9M NOVCQ common shares plus 22.250M Ten Year Warrants. There are co-conspirators with NOVCQ board of directors that own 40M NOVCQ Common & MassMutual & Jefferies own 40M NOVCQ common shares. Novation Companies Inc. $NOVCQ submerged shareholder plans and value under SEC Rule 15c(2)-11 to sub penny stock that can only be traded today by Expert Investors defined by this SEC Rule. Fortress/EJF Capital paid almost nothing for OBEs yet they have spent at least $2M cash in the last Ch 11 in DE. They have every reason to do something big.
I believe that something will be splitting NOVCQ into two tax free public companies worth BILLIONS plus Hundreds of Millions in annual cash flow in MREIT Dividends & Lucrative Mgt Fees just like Fortress did a LEAF/One Main OMF, Newcastle that is New Residential $NRZ now Rithm Capital $RITM and $GCI formerly New Media NEWM and New Senior $SNR sold for over $2B. $RITM aka $NRZ in 2019 10K documented that shareholders paid Fortress over $250M in Mgt Fees annually, plus dividends. Fortress terminated the NRZ/RITM Mgt Deal for cool $400M (simultaneously changing Name/Symbol to Rithm Capital $RITM). NOVCQ Dark Horse are their plans for NOVCQ only operating unit HCS aka Medmasa http://medmasa.com concealed by CH 11 in DE. Medmasa NOVCQ only operating unit is http://healthcare-staffing.com NOVCQ former MREIT NYSE $NFI now named Novastar Mortgage is the Board, EJF Capital and Fortress ticket to monetizing rights (see Exhibit 2.1 of Q3 2007 10Q Service Rights Transfer Agreement Sec 5.04 that defines these rights as Cleanup Call Rights CCR well know to these MREIT experts) that control billions of rich, seasoned collateral assets ideal to be leveraged and securitized into MREIT dividend & like RITM aka NRZ another external management fee for Fortress and/or EJF. Fortress/EJF Capital then FBR did this with NOVCQ Board Barry Igdaloff, Howard Amster 2000-03 at Dynex Capital NYSE $DX. Ask Igdaloff helpers Thomas Akin former CEO/COB of DX he holds 1.9M of NOVCQ in his fund Talkot Capital. Thomas Bruce Akin sat on DX Board for years with NOVCQ Chairman Igdaloff. Igdaloff served 20 years on DX Board per DX 8K 9/3/2020.This is your chance to do what is right. ====================================== ALTERNATIVES
May 15, 2024 12:04 PM

Fortress, Mubadala complete acquisition of Fortress Investment Group

LYDIA TOMKIWERIN ARVEDLUND

• TWEET
• SHARE
• SHARE
• MORE

REPRINTSPRINT
Drew McKnight and Joshua Pack
Fortress Investment Group, an alternatives manager, and Mubadala Investment Co., the investment arm of Abu Dhabi’s $276 billion sovereign wealth fund, completed their acquisition deal May 15, and as part of the close, Fortress management now owns a 32% equity interest.
Mubadala owns the remaining 68%. The acquisition, through Mubadala Capital, is for the 90.01% of Fortress equity that was held by SoftBank Group Corp., according to a news release. The terms of the deal were not disclosed.

RELATED ARTICLE

Mubadala seeks co-investors for Fortress in effort to clear U.S. security review SoftBank-Fortress deal turns attention to future arrangements with private equity firms
Fortress’s sale of majority equity was approved by the Committee on Foreign Investment in the United States after concessions were made to let Fortress keep data and technology in the U.S., the Financial Times first reported last week.
Fortress, which had $48 billion in assets under management at the end of 2023, said it expects the new joint venture to help it further establish itself in credit and real estate in both public and private markets. Fortress pointed to Mubadala Capital’s global network to help expand client relationships.
“This is a true landmark event for Fortress, for our employees and for the clients we serve,” said Fortress co-CEOs Drew McKnight and Joshua Pack, adding, “We have strengthened alignments of interest, put significant management skin in the game, and deepened our long-term partnership with Mubadala, one of the world’s most highly regarded investors.”
As part of Fortress management now owning a 32% equity interest, its management is entitled to appointment of a majority of board seats. McKnight, Pack and managing partner Jack Neumark were the largest individual investors in the buyout and were joined by about 150 members of the firm.
Mubadala Capital’s CEO and managing director, Hani Barhoush, continues to serve on the Fortress board, a position he has held since 2019 when Mubadala initially invested.
Fortress will continue to operate as an independent investment manager under its own brand and with full autonomy over its investment process and personnel.

1. ALTERNATIVES

I often think about Celebrimbor, and I simply can’t get over the obvious visual parallel with St. Sebastian. This is St Sebastian’s martyrdom: by Reni), and Mantegna).
Celebrimbor died thus: “In black anger [Sauron] turned back to battle; and bearing as a banner Celebrimbor’s body hung upon a pole, shot through with Orc-arrows, he turned upon the forces of Elrond.” (UT, p. 307–308)
The iconography (see drawings by peet, and Kaaile) is the same.
And this led me to wondering about what made Tolkien, a Catholic, decide to give his Elf who fell to Sauron’s manipulations a famous Christian martyrdom, and why St Sebastian in particular?
I don’t know enough about St Sebastian or Tolkien to do more than speculate.
First, as a hint of Celebrimbor’s feelings for fair Annatar. St. Sebastian has a strong gay association. This was so even at the turn of the 20th century: Oscar Wilde clearly loved St Sebastian and the associated iconography. Here he refers specifically to Guido Reni’s wonderful painting of St Sebastian. In The Picture of Dorian Gray, St Sebastian is highlighted in Chapter XI, the chapter about Dorian’s personal (and generally rather decadent) passions. St Sebastian also appears in Thomas Mann’s Der Tod in Venedig(Zweites Kapitel). I can see the whole thing as being a hint at Celebrimbor falling for Sauron in more ways than one, particularly given what we know of his seduction (the term used in LOTR, p. 1083) by Annatar in his “fair form” (Sil, Index of Names, entry Annatar; UT, p. 328). Sauron is said to have “used all his arts upon Celebrimbor and his fellow-smiths” (UT, p. 306). “All his arts” would include this: “Yet such was the cunning of his mind and mouth, and the strength of his hidden will, that ere three years had passed he had become closest to the secret counsels of the King; for flattery sweet as honey was ever on his tongue, and knowledge he had of many things yet unrevealed to Men. And seeing the favour that he had of their lord all the councillors began to fawn upon him, save one alone” (Sil, Akallabêth). To me, this passage sounds distinctly sexual, and also like something that Oscar Wilde could have written, with this imagery.
(I admit that having Celebrimbor fall in love with Annatar makes the eventual betrayal even worse. I also am aware that in one of the many different versions presented in The History of Galadriel and Celeborn, it is said that Celebrimbor loved Galadriel (UT, p. 324–325), but according to Christopher Tolkien, this “Celebrimbor is here again a jewel-smith of Gondolin, rather than one of the Fëanorians” (UT, p. 325), which is why I tend to take his characterisation here with a pinch of salt.)
The other thought I had is quite dark: rape. It’s an association that I personally feel imposes itself, in a way. “The arrow is a highly phallic image” (source) already, and there’s the image of Cupid’s two arrows, causing uncontrollable desire in one victim, and revulsion in the other. The result for the person who was shot by the second arrow was rape—or death (or transformation into a tree if your father happened to be (1) a god, and (2) nearby: Daphne). I’m not the first person to connect the iconography of St Sebastian with rape: see this (NSFW, nudity and violence) blogpost. This could be a very Tolkienian hint of what Celebrimbor suffered in his “torment” (UT, p. 307) at the hands of Sauron before his death—subtle, “clean”, deniable, but intriguing.
We know that Morgoth wanted to rape Lúthien (“Then Morgoth looking upon her beauty conceived in his thought an evil lust, and a design more dark than any that had yet come into his heart since he fled from Valinor. Thus he was beguiled by his own malice, for he watched her, leaving her free for awhile, and taking secret pleasure in his thought.” (Sil, QS, ch. 19)) and that, while the above passage implies that Morgoth only ever wanted to rape Lúthien and no other, that is not true: he also attempted to rape Arien, the Maia of the Sun, in order specifically to break her: “though he attempted to ravish Arien, this was to destroy and ‘distain’ her, not to beget fiery offspring” (HoME X, p. 405, fn omitted).
Sauron, meanwhile, is described thus: “Sauron was become now a sorcerer of dreadful power, master of shadows and of phantoms, foul in wisdom, cruel in strength, misshaping what he touched, twisting what he ruled, lord of werewolves; his dominion was torment.” (Sil, QS, ch. 18) I do not think that it would be either out-of-character for Sauron or “out-of-world” for the Legendarium (especially as Sauron used to be Morgoth’s second-in-command in Angband) to assume that Sauron raped Celebrimbor in order to break him or just because he’s an obvious sadist who would enjoy every last second of it, or had others rape Celebrimbor as grisly a method of torture—and then turned him into his banner to show the Elves what he’d done, and dishonour Celebrimbor even further in death.
(Note that it is a common misconception that Elves die when raped. As per HoME X, p. 228 (a text likely from the late 1950s: HoME X, p. 199), this only applies to married Elves raped by someone who is not their spouse: “there is no record of any among the Elves that took another’s spouse by force; for this was wholly against their nature, and one so forced would have rejected bodily life and passed to Mandos.” (Emphasis mine) This is confirmed by the fact that in a later (from 1959–1960: HoME XI, p. 359–360) text, Eöl rapes unmarried Aredhel and Aredhel survives: “Eöl found Irith, the sister of King Turgon, astray in the wild near his dwelling, and he took her to wife by force: a very wicked deed in the eyes of the Eldar.” (HoME XI, p. 409, fn omitted, emphasis mine) Note the same expression used to describe a rape.)
This post turned out longer than I planned. I’ve speculated on two possible associations that the imagery of St Sebastian and the character and story of Celebrimbor invite. Do you have other ideas? Why do you think that Tolkien chose this imagery?
Sources:

• Unfinished Tales of Númenor & Middle-earth, JRR Tolkien, ed Christopher Tolkien, HarperCollins 2014 (softcover) [cited as: UT].
• The Lord of the Rings, JRR Tolkien, HarperCollins 2007 (softcover) [cited as: LOTR].
• The Silmarillion, JRR Tolkien, ed Christopher Tolkien, HarperCollins, ebook edition February 2011, version 2019-01-09 [cited as: Sil].
• Morgoth’s Ring, JRR Tolkien, Christopher Tolkien, HarperCollins 2015 (softcover) [cited as: HoME X].
• The War of the Jewels, JRR Tolkien, Christopher Tolkien, HarperCollins 2015 (softcover) [cited as: HoME XI].

I can highlight a block of code and use the shortcut ctrl+K to add a hash symbol to the beginning of every highlighted line.
Do I have access to the script text editor, highlighting and inserting text, so I could write custom functions and bind them to keystrokes? For example, it would be so nice to be able to do something like alt+F for "func ".
I've been searching docs, websites and YouTube for hours. I see editor settings on the "Default editor shortcuts" page, but no info on how a custom action could be added. The "Editor plugin" and "Making plugin" pages talk about making nodes or scenes.
I see under the Editor tab it looks like I can change mappings.
There are lots of YouTube videos and webpages, but they seem to focus on objects to use in projects.
I haven't found anything about how to access the text editor. In order to do that, would I have to work with the source?
Maybe I've seen what I'm looking for, and I don't recognize it. I'm hoping there's a way to write a script or a plugin to write text snippets. Any suggestions appreciated.

I’ll try to be as objective as possible, but the short story is: When I ask for some of these qualities of life on TwitteX, I was told that they’re whimsy because there’re more important things for the team to focus on, but now with Loot Reborn maybe it’s time for some whims (good for everyone including unicorn gamers)!
1 Choose to play only day or night instead of cycle, or normal cycle (maybe in bed?) 2 Option to highlight Elite enemies for a color of choice. (for when we play without life bars) 3 Track Battle Pass objetives. 4 Combat Text Display: Show Critical Numbers only (including Overpower) 5 Choose Minion Health Bars colors. 6 Fast teleport to Tree of Whispers when Grim Favors is full. (instead of looking on the map) 7 Remodel some set transmogs visuals that are repeated and make them look unique. (ex: Sorcerers Boneweave, Archon and Sovereign) 8 Bring back first beta Hairstyles. (Male Barbarian’s braids and Female Sorcerer’s long hair) 9 Black dye. 10 Side Quests tracker that we’ve done yet. (people stop asking for this) 11 Somehow we know when caused a lucky hit. (maybe a “L-H!” or a symbol) 12 Choose eyebrows and beards separately. (by the name of Akarat)
What else do you think would be an important but whimsical improvement?

I was working on a video bumper project this week and ended up using ChatGPT to write some expressions for a few of the animated elements in the piece. It worked surprisingly well. I’ve been using After Effects for years and have always struggled with expressions - my eyes glaze over when I try to read/write code. I was able to describe the effect I was trying to achieve and it output the expression along with instructions on how and where to use it. I feel like this is going to make me more efficient and creative with my AE projects.
Wondering if y’all have used ChatGPT in a similar way with to your motion graphics work?
*Edited because a couple people have asked to see the prompts…
This was my prompt for the expression after discussing the project at length:
“I want to animate this list of characters you provided. The end result will be a grid of characters that cycle through each character in the list randomly. I can take care of the grid, but I need help setting up one character element that changes every second or so and cycles through each symbol in the list. I want to be able to control the speed that it cycles through each symbol. Only one symbol should be visible at a time. Does this make sense?”
Here is the final expression it output:
// List of symbols
var symbols = ["Σ", "∫", "Δ", "∂", "λ", "π", "σ", "φ", "θ", "e", "∇", "∞", "P", "∈", "∩", "∪", "i", "[ ]", "( )", "→"];
// Time interval for each change (in seconds)
var interval = 1;
// Adjust this value to control the speed
// Generate a unique seed for each layer
seedRandom(index, true);
// Shuffle function using Fisher-Yates algorithm
function shuffle(array) { for (var i = array.length - 1; i > 0; i--) { var j = Math.floor(random() * (i + 1)); var temp = array[i]; array[i] = array[j]; array[j] = temp; } return array; }
// Shuffle the symbols array
var shuffledSymbols = shuffle(symbols.slice());
// Use slice() to avoid modifying the original array
// Calculate the current index
var se = Math.floor(time / interval); var m = se % shuffledSymbols.length;
// Return the symbol at the current index
shuffledSymbols[m];
Another prompt:
“Are you able to write an opacity expression for a solid that would mimmic a flashing cursor when you click on a text field?”
The output expression after requesting some adjustments:
// Blinking interval in seconds
var interval = 1;
// Adjust this value to control the speed of blinking
// Calculate the fade effect using a sine wave
var fade = Math.sin(time * Math.PI / interval) * 50 + 50;
// Set the opacity based on the fade calculation fade;