Religion Name: Shrekism
Overview: Shrekism is a monotheistic religion that centers around the worship of Shrek, a beloved character from the animated movie franchise. Followers of Shrekism believe that Shrek is a divine being who created the world and all living things, and that he is the one true god.
Commandments:
Thou shalt love and respect Shrek above all else. Thou shalt treat others with kindness and compassion, just as Shrek does. Thou shalt strive to live a simple and humble life, free from greed and materialism. Thou shalt honor thy parents and family, for they are a gift from Shrek. Thou shalt not kill or harm any living creature, for all life is sacred to Shrek. Thou shalt not steal or covet that which belongs to others. Thou shalt not bear false witness against thy neighbor or spread rumors and lies. Thou shalt keep the Sabbath day holy, and spend time in reflection and prayer. Thou shalt not engage in any form of sexual immorality or adultery. Thou shalt not worship any other gods or idols, for Shrek is the one true god.
Deadly Sins:
Pride: Believing oneself to be superior to others or placing oneself above Shrek. Greed: Excessive desire for wealth or material possessions. Envy: Jealousy of others' successes or possessions. Wrath: Uncontrolled anger or aggression towards others. Sloth: Laziness and apathy towards one's duties and responsibilities. Gluttony: Overindulgence in food or drink. Lust: Excessive or inappropriate sexual desire.
Practices:
Worship: Shrekists gather in their temples and offer prayers and offerings to Shrek. Pilgrimage: Shrekists may go on pilgrimage to the "Swamp of Serenity," where they believe Shrek first appeared to humanity. Fasting: Shrekists may fast on certain days to show their devotion and discipline. Charity: Shrekists are encouraged to be charitable and help those in need. Meditation: Shrekists may meditate on the teachings of Shrek and seek to deepen their understanding of his message. Communal Meals: Shrekists may share meals together as a symbol of unity and community.
Symbols:
The Green Flag: A green flag bearing the image of Shrek. The Onion: The onion is a symbol of humility and simplicity, which are important virtues in Shrekism. The Donkey: Donkey, Shrek's loyal companion, is seen as a symbol of friendship and loyalty in the Shrekist faith.
Holy Places:
The Swamp: In the Shrek bibles, Shrek's swamp is his sacred home and a symbol of his identity. A temple or shrine could be built in honor of the swamp, where followers could come to meditate and reflect.
The Castle: The castle where Princess Fiona lived in the first Shrek bible could be considered a holy place. Followers could come to pay their respects to the princess and learn more about her story.
The Windmill: The windmill where Shrek and Fiona first fell in love could also be considered a sacred site. Shrekists could come to pay their respects to the couple and learn more about the power of love.
Paradise:
The Swamp of Eternity: In this paradise, followers of shrekism could spend eternity living in their own version of Shrek's swamp. They would be surrounded by their loved ones, onions, donkeys, and the beauty of nature, and they could live in peace and happiness for all eternity.
Inferno:
The Pit of Isolation: This inferno would be a place where followers of the Shrek-based religion could be sent if they were deemed to have betrayed the values of the religion. In this pit, they would be cut off from all human interaction and forced to live in isolation for eternity, just like Fiona(the spouse of our holy diety) was.
Apostles:
Fiona, Shrek's wife and co-leader of the movement, who embodies the ideals of strength, courage, and compassion.
Donkey, Shrek's faithful and humorous companion, who represents the importance of loyalty and friendship.
Puss in Boots, a skilled and cunning warrior who symbolizes the virtues of agility and strategic thinking.
Dragon, a fierce and powerful ally who embodies the values of protection and loyalty.
Gingy, a tenacious and resilient gingerbread man who represents the importance of perseverance and determination.
Artie, a young and inexperienced prince who undergoes a transformation and represents the potential for growth and change.
Merlin, a wise and mystical advisor who provides guidance and spiritual insight.
Captain Hook, a former villain who has reformed and now serves as an example of redemption and forgiveness.
Doris, a former antagonist who has also reformed and represents the power of second chances.
Mama Bear, one of the Three Bears who represents the importance of family and community.
Thelonious, a henchman of Lord Farquaad who redeems himself and becomes a member of Shrek's inner circle, symbolizing the possibility of redemption and transformation for all.

Hi lovelies,
I am getting doggo (or catto) soon, and I'm stuck for names. I'm very much open to any and all suggestions. I'll be adopting the flood from a shelter, that's a definite!
I also have ADHD decision paralysis that acts up when it comes to naming things, so suggestions from other people are what usually gets my brain to finally decide on a name!
All name suggestions please down below.
Male, female, and unisex/names that can be used for both male and female doggos (& cattos) please! 🍓❤️
🍓🍓🍓🍓🍓🍓🍓🍓🍓🍓🍓🍓🍓🍓🍓🍓🍓🍓
Some of my current ideas are below. ❤️ Means they're a frontrunner. Plz don't come for me if the meaning isn't exactly right. It's after a rough search. I'm open for ideas & such!

• Ruta (from Zelda BOTW, and means 'friend' in Hebrew),
  
• Dolce (Dolly as a nickname, and means 'sweet' in Italian),
  

❤️* Pip (lover of horses),

• Zelda (from BOTW, and means blessed & happy in Yiddish),
  
• Phoenix / Fenix (means to rise from the rubble, because I've just come out of a really hard situation),
  

❤️* Veda / Vaeda (Knowledge & wisdom in Sanskrit),
❤️* Valentina (Tina, or Lenny for short, and means 'strength' & 'health' in Latin),

• Nova (means 'new'. I have just left a really hard situation, and will be in my new place),
  
• Stella (meaning star. The floof going to be where I look for guidance, when I'm discouraged, or my mental health is losing its heckin' mind, while I'm doing what I can to help myself too),
  

❤️* Haven (meaning safe place. Just left a really hard situation, so this is symbolic of my place always being a safe place),

• Xaria (means 'gift of love' in Hebrew),
  
• Caoimhe (pronounced Kwee-vah. Eva for short, and means 'gentle', 'beautiful', 'precious', in Irish),
  
• Astrid (means 'divinely beautiful' / 'divine strength', in Scandinavian culture),
  

❤️* Koti (means 'home' in Finnish, and 'stable & content mind' in Hebrew).

Hi lovelies,
I am getting a cat or a doggo soon, and I'm stuck for names. I'm very much open to any and all suggestions. I'll be adopting the flood from a shelter, that's a definite!
I also have ADHD decision paralysis that acts up when it comes to naming things, so suggestions from other people are what usually gets my brain to finally decide on a name!
All name suggestions please down below.
Male, female, and unisex/names that can be used for both male and female cats & dogs please! 🍓❤️
Some of my current ideas are below. ❤️ Means they're a frontrunner. Plz don't come for me if the meaning isn't exactly right. It's after a rough search. I'm open for ideas & such!

• Ruta (from Zelda BOTW - my favourite video game, and means 'friend' in Hebrew),
  
• Dolce (Dolly as a nickname, and means 'sweet' in Italian),
  

❤️* Pip (lover of horses),

• Zelda (from BOTW, and means blessed & happy in Yiddish),
  
• Phoenix / Fenix (means to rise from the rubble, because I've just come out of a really hard situation),
  

❤️* Veda / Vaeda (Knowledge & wisdom in Sanskrit),
❤️* Valentina (Tina, or Lenny for short, and means 'strength' & 'health' in Latin),

• Nova (means 'new'. I have just left a really hard situation, and will be in my new place),
  
• Stella (meaning star. The floof going to be where I look for guidance, when I'm discouraged, or my mental health is losing its heckin' mind, while I'm doing what I can to help myself too),
  

❤️* Haven (meaning safe place. Just left a really hard situation, so this is symbolic of my place always being a safe place),

• Xaria (means 'gift of love' in Hebrew),
  
• Caoimhe (pronounced Kwee-vah. Eva for short, and means 'gentle', 'beautiful', 'precious', in Irish),
  
• Astrid (means 'divinely beautiful' / 'divine strength', in Scandinavian culture),
  

❤️* Koti (means 'home' in Finnish, and 'stable & content mind' in Hebrew).

Hi, people. I need some help with fixing my CV. I showed my friend, but he said it's ok. Though I feel like it's not ok.
P.S. I saw it only after sending, but I made mistake in projects. I wrote in one sentence "I" and then wrote "we".
https://preview.redd.it/u784twz10d1d1.png?width=742&format=png&auto=webp&s=9d5f71550105fef882458cc14f481d9f5c0c1108

I noticed that in gurugram wine and beer shops are decorated with lights as if they are highway dhabas/restaurants or hi-fi malls. Just real malls and thekas decorated as malls. That's the only thing that exists in gurgaon for fun. During my childhood we used to have games period only once or twice a week. Even during those periods all were busy preparing for jee. Indian kids are least interested in sports. I used to make bow and arrows out of broom sticks and try to imitate ramayan Mahabharat characters by holding the arrow in front of my forehead, murmur some gibberish and then letting go of the drawn arrow on some toy placed at a distance. My father snapped and broke my bow and arrows. He was like, "not sending you to such an expensive school just so that you could become a tribal hunter. Go study". One of my father's friends had once gifted me a mouser bb gun for fifth or sixth birthday. My father was furious and angry at him for gifting his son a gun. He was like guns are banned in USA. Guns as toys are for bad kids. I used to like watching martial arts based movies and imitate their actions alone. Father gaslit me by saying that I was trying to be a future criminal. As martial arts are only for goons, thugs, killer, police, army or ultra rich people who just want to show off medals as status symbol. He wanted me to focus only on studies.
Rich shitty kids in my school had Xbox, PlayStation and PC games. They discriminated against me because of obvious status difference. So I had no friends, no siblings or any good memories while growing up. Girls in my class only wanted to hang with those boys who used to play football or basketball for school team. I was good at goalkeeping because of my natural reflexes and height and was also good at taking penalty kicks because of brute strength. But I wasn't good at tackling or dribbling. I used to do a lot of fouls. That's not the reason for which I wasn't allowed to play by the way. The real reason was that they didn't want to get embarassed by me who was a "poor loser" according to them. They used to belittle me because of my looks, skin colour and lack of money. So getting humbled by me on playground obviously used to hurt their ego. Because of that they didn't use to let me play.
Every one in my office just smokes tobacco or drinks alcohol. That is the definition of having a good time or celebration according to them. I noticed that Indians just drink(alcohol), spit(paan gutka), smoke (tobacco) and do drugs. Like isn't there anything else for recreational activities? In urban areas there's malls and I think one can go for hiking or trekking too. But even there Indian gen z and millennials just want to do gaanja and charas at Manali or any other hill station. Why are Indians so much into drugs?
Most of the MMA coaching centres are frauds as per the reviews on Google pages. They charge a leg or an arm but whatever they teach isn't that good as per the reviews.
I want to go to uttrakhand for river rafting, bunjee jumping, sky diving or para gliding. But don't feel brave enough because of the fact that it's India after all. What if the parachute doesn't open, what if the chord breaks, what if the bunjee cable breaks, what if I drown....and also the charges as per Indian economy is too high. As per Indian economy the charges should not be as high as they are. Maybe within a year or two I will finally got for it.

"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.

1. Love Story Arc:

• Level 1: Who is [Protagonist]'s love interest, and what is their name?
  
• Level 2: Describe the initial meeting and the circumstances that draw [Protagonist] and their love interest together.
  
• Level 3: Explore the unique qualities and characteristics that create a strong connection between [Protagonist] and their love interest.
  
• Level 4: What challenges does the love story face, and how do [Protagonist] and their love interest navigate these obstacles?
  
• Level 5: How does the progression of the love story arc contribute to [Protagonist]'s overall character development?
  

1. Conflict Resolution:

• Level 1: How does [Protagonist] approach the resolution of conflicts with [Antagonist] initially?
  
• Level 2: Explore the twists and turns in the conflict resolution process, including unexpected alliances or betrayals.
  
• Level 3: Are there sacrifices or compromises made by [Protagonist] to achieve resolution, and what are they?
  
• Level 4: How does the resolution impact the relationships between [Protagonist], [Antagonist], and other key characters?
  
• Level 5: Reflect on the long-term consequences of the conflict resolution and how it sets the stage for future developments.
  

1. Character Development:

• Level 1: How does [Protagonist] evolve emotionally throughout the narrative?
  
• Level 2: Explore significant events or challenges that contribute to [Protagonist]'s emotional growth.
  
• Level 3: In what ways does [Protagonist]'s worldview change as a result of their experiences?
  
• Level 4: Describe pivotal moments that showcase [Protagonist]'s newfound strengths or insights.
  
• Level 5: How do other characters perceive and react to the changes in [Protagonist]'s character over the course of the story?
  

1. Symbolic Elements:

• Level 1: Are there any recurring motifs, objects, or themes that hold symbolic significance in the story?
  
• Level 2: Explore the deeper meanings behind these symbolic elements and their connection to the characters.
  
• Level 3: How do the symbolic elements evolve or transform throughout the narrative?
  
• Level 4: Are there moments where characters interpret these symbols differently, leading to conflicts or resolutions?
  
• Level 5: Reflect on the overall impact of these symbolic elements on the story's themes and character dynamics.
  

1. Moral Dilemmas:

- *Level 1:* What moral dilemmas does [Protagonist] face early in the story? - *Level 2:* Explore the complexity of these dilemmas and the internal conflicts they create for [Protagonist]. - *Level 3:* How do [Protagonist]'s decisions in the face of moral dilemmas impact other characters? - *Level 4:* Are there moments where [Protagonist] questions their own morality or ethical compass? - *Level 5:* Reflect on the broader implications of the moral dilemmas and their contribution to the story's overarching themes. 

1. Unconventional Choices:

- *Level 1:* Provide specific examples of [Protagonist]'s unconventional responses to adversity. - *Level 2:* Explore the motivations behind these unconventional choices and their immediate outcomes. - *Level 3:* How do other characters react to [Protagonist]'s unorthodox decisions, and does it lead to alliances or conflicts? - *Level 4:* Are there moments where [Protagonist] questions the consequences of their unconventional choices? - *Level 5:* Reflect on the cumulative impact of these choices on [Protagonist]'s journey and the overall narrative. 

1330 Terran Front Fleet Time
On the Turinika homeworld, the first signs of unrest began to manifest like a wave, The broadcast of the most esteemed Tizikikoonazikiakakiatkata, Taratanti of the roost Kazatalak, openly performing the act of Kavsa had been met with shock. The last Taratanti who had voluntarily performed Kavsa had done so in protest of the treatment of the Kulorn caste, nearly two thousand years prior. It was an ancient rite, one that signified rejection of the greatest shame. Even more shocking than the act itself was the evidence that had followed it. Visuals of species, brought into the Conclave, not as migrant workers as had been believed, but as slaves, was met with an almost immediate attempt at censorship. This attempt failed spectacularly, mostly due to those who had been tasked to censor the information not only refusing to follow the command, but openly declaring that they had been ordered to do so. A situation that was already, as the humans would say, out of hand, spiraled completely out of control. Within only twenty minutes of the ending of Tizikikoonazikiakakiatkata’s broadcast entire cities entered a state of absolute anarchy. Two planetary capitals were stormed and taken by the furious civilian population, demanding the location of those who had been enslaved. The Turinika Armada, which even then was in the middle of a training session meant to prepare the fleet to withstand the Terran Front’s assault, began to cease operations. Within the hour, the entire armada would be recalled to the turnika homeworld. Those who did not take to the streets simply stopped whatever work they were doing and went to their homes to be around their brood. Images of Tizikikoonazikiakakiatkata with his stripped wings spread wide in front of the human fleet commander were on every news fed of the Conclave, as was the sound of his thunderous voice, and the wails of despair from a turinika female that couldn’t be seen. Close ups of the human fleet commander’s face were shown, with analysts remarking on the shock, horror, and sympathy. Since the outbreak of the Seventh Orion War, the female human known as Simmons had been reported to have made several threats towards the turinika, she had quickly become seen as a warmonger, ready to take revenge against the turinika for refusing to go to war and violate their principles of pacifism. Now the images of her lunging forward to stop the violation of Tizikikoonazikiakakiatkata’s plumage, the agonized expression of her face, and the true reason for her threats against the turinika were rapidly reversing her image. On far flung deep core mining stations and agricultural stations, on deep space stations dedicated to material processing, and in other areas hidden from the sight of the normal turinikan population, overseers and taskmasters felt their hearts run cold at the knowledge that very soon, their part to play in the willful enslavement of another species would be known to the wider Conclave. As the data package transmitted alongside the broadcast were fully decompressed and the scale of the Conclave’s government’s involvement was revealed, the entirety of the Conclave itself was teetering on the verge of absolute pandemonium. The image of a member of the kolra species, from the look of it barely a hatchling, quickly was becoming the face of the entire incident. The picture was absolutely damning, and the sight of the image had sent any who saw it instantly into contorting and painful displays of shame. The young kolra was sprawled on it’s stomach, looking to the one taking it’s picture with eyes that had no life in them. It’s shell covered it’s back, and despite the age of the kolra it was already dulled and scuffed. The foot pressing down on the shell was unmistakably familiar to those who saw it, the clawed feet of a turinika. Within the hour, billions of winged figures stood in streets, the normally soft spoken and passive species demanding action, demanding justice, on the hundred worlds of the Turinika Conclave. The bulk of the Taratanti caste, most of whom had been left in the dark of the truth of the situation, quickly went public with their own declaration of outrage, and the eyes of the entire species turned inwards to the mountainous homeworld of their species.
Hakuri Watanabe looked down at his helmet before putting it on his bed, the stylized SEVEN seeming to stare at him. He sat down in his chair and picked up a small cloth from his buffing kit. No one knocked on his door, in fact, mostly he and the rest of his squad were left alone before a major operation. They were just given their time, time to mentally prepare. Some of his squad would go over their mission briefing, some, like him, would spend their time doing something to relax themselves. Hakuri always found that taking care of his suit calmed him considerably. Granted he could simply turn it over to the squads armorers to be tended to and they would do as good of a job as he could, but he preferred it to be done by his own hand. The symbol of a triangle was on his form fitting shirt, the symbol of his special operations command unit. He was known as a Myrmidon, but the official title of his unit was Section Three. He knew this, his superiors knew this, and as far as Hakuri knew, most of the Terran Front was aware of his unit’s existence, but past that, they knew very little about what he actually did. As far as his mother knew, Hakuri was a pencil pusher onboard the TFS Berlin, the troop mothership that all of his letters were sent from. He thought about writing her, but then again, he only liked to do that when he returned from a mission, not when he was expecting to go to one. If he tried to write her when he was waiting, he would just get anxious, and homesick. That wouldn’t do when he was dropping into a combat zone. That wouldn’t do at all. Hakuri instead started to buff his helmet, waiting for the word to come down which meant they were prepared to jump. A glance at the clock made him pause in his circular rotations. The clock said 1330. Operation Naked Sun was about to begin.
Tika was on his side, Kzia standing at the end of the medical bed that had been adjusted for his turinikan physiology. He felt cold in more ways than one. For his people, clothing was more of a decoration than a necessity, but without his protective plumage he felt the cold stabbing him through to his hollow bones. His diplomatic access was already gone, his privilege access revoked. He heard the broadcast for a preparation to jump, but he wasn’t truly listening. There was no question in his mind he had made the right decision. There was no question at all. One of the humans, a nurse, came to his side and gently laid a heavy blanket over him. The human’s hand lingered on his trembling body for a few moments before it was removed, and Tika glanced in their direction. The female was one of the ones who had responded first to the call for medical service for him, had heard what had happened and why. Tika had gotten very used to being glared at on this ship. He was hated, and he knew it. He knew he had deserved it. He was a party to the vral’s enslavement of the humans, the chua, and far too many others. When he had come to Thermopylae station, he had not even given that fact a single thought. He was born into power, being of the Taratanti. He belonged to the most powerful species and government in the entire quadrant of the galaxy. His people, while mighty, did not seek to use it. To him, they had simply been above it all. When the vral had approached him with the offer to sell captured species at first TIka had wanted to reject it out of hand, but a few had told him to go through with the sale. Such was the nature of this galaxy, or so he had believed. The weak were at the whims of the strong, and one’s place in the galaxy was determined only by the power they could wield. The turinika were not nearly the first to have taken a species and used it for slave labor, and while Tika did not approve of the deal, he had not fought it either. As he looked back to the wall, he remembered what the humans had taught him these last days. When he had arrived in Thermopylae he had assumed he would find the chua species to have been at the very least regulated to a subservient role, if not outright enslaved. Finding them sharing power was a curiosity. He had expected to be treated with all the honor and dignity that his station demanded, that the power of his government demanded. Fleet Marshal Simmons had disabused him of that, and had left him humiliated and shamed. As he had laid in the dark as Simmons had declared the Seventh Orion War, covered in his own filth, feeling as if at any moment he was going to be killed he knew true fear and horrific uncertainty for the first time in his life. He had never faced these emotions, these sensations before. He had always been in power. He had stood with the full might of the Turinika Conclave behind him. He had never known anything other than the superior position. Now, as he lay in the hospital bed, staring at the wall, he was ashamed of how arrogant, how blind, and how short sighted he had been. After he had risen from his own filth, he had desperately tried to convince his leadership of the strength of the Terran Front, how it matched or eclipsed their own. The Conclave was not the unchallenged power in the quadrant anymore. The terrans, the human and chua, had somehow defied fate. They had not fallen to the vral after ninety years of near constant conflict, and now if Tika was right they had come out of it nightmarishly stronger than before. Tika had actually begged to be heard by his superiors, and he had never come close to that once in his life. The chua homeworld however, had fully broken him. If he had not been on the Antares, had not been humbled beforehand, he knew that he would have just clapped his hands together and said that it was delightful. As the transmission from the chua homeworld had come in, and the rescue effort had begun, he could only wallow in his own shame. He had profited directly from the chua’s suffering, the human’s suffering. Again he had tried, and failed, to convince his people, and again he had failed. Being on the Antares, for him, was torture. The lights were too dim, every human and chua looked at him with nothing more than loathing and contempt, his entire worldview had been shattered from the way he viewed the galaxy to his own place in it. Every time he closed his eyes he saw the shadow of Simmons standing over him, her voice cold with a lethal rage, hearing her voice echo in his mind, seeing the glint from flashes of light shining in her eyes. ‘We Know.’ echoed in his mind in his sleep, the voice of the terrifying Fleet Marshal transforming into the sound of a vengeful god demanding compliance and promising retribution. Then he had watched the humans and chua, who he knew were preparing to go to war with his people, celebrating the return of the shesvie. Once more he had expected them to be integrated into the Terran Front, but as soon as he learned Simmons offer to them, and what it had entailed, he had been called to his room to answer the latest message from his people. Once again, his people had doubled down, the knowledge of the enslavement of the humans had been suppressed, and once more Tika found himself, and his people, standing against a Terran Front that had every justification to declare war, to right the wrongs that had been done to them. All the while, he knew something else. He knew that, after everything he had seen, that his people would lose. The turinika had not been to war for nearly two thousand years. His people were not ready for what the Terran Front could do, and after seeing what they had done to the vral so far, he knew his people were not ready for what the Terran Front would do. He was afraid of the dark. Tika was absolutely terrified of it now, because now he knew the monsters were real. Simmons had shown him that, but the humans, the chua, they were not the monsters. He was. He had refused to be one any more. He had announced his intentions to his staff, who had squalled in rejection, all but three. Kzia was the first to step to his side, Kikumot and Tziki had stepped forward as well. Never, in his most nightmarish dreams, did he ever think that he would stand in front of Simmons and voluntarily have his plumage stripped from him, performing the act of Kasva. He never thought that his staff would have ever compiled and transmitted the data package they had sent. He had never thought that he would betray his people, if only to save them. Simmons had changed that, the humans had changed that. He knew the terror of the dark, he knew fear for his people’s safety, he understood the horror of war, and for the first time in his long life he could truly look back at every interaction he had had, with every species, that had asked for help in their struggle for survival against the vral and truly understand their fear and desperation. Now he lay, his plumage stripped from him, his station revoked, his status removed, surrounded by a people who despised him. He wouldn’t have it any other way now. He knew that they would listen now, if not to him, then to the civilian masses of the Conclave that would not stand for what they had done. He prayed to the Great Mother often now, shivering in the dim light, hoping that it would be enough. He had been wrong, and in his error he had sullied his own people. He had made them complicit. Even now, he did not know how they would ever be forgiven, because right now he wasn’t quite sure he could ever forgive himself. As he heard the broadcast calling out on the ship, announcing one minute to jump, he felt a hand on his side, and looked up to the human nurse. She was smiling at him. Not a smile born of malice, or anger, but a genuine smile. She patted his side lightly, then turned to walk out of the room. For not even the twentieth time since he had come onboard Thermopylae, he was mystified by these people.
The bridge of the Dhampir was thrumming with music and the vibrations of the reactor and Conrad leaned forward in his chair mount, his eyes almost feral as he looked at the empty space that was the mandeville point. He was positively chomping at the bit. Batz was positively roaring the lyrics to the song that was blaring over the ships speakers. Rev and Dev sat side by side in their mounts, throwing their hands up in time with the pounding bass beat of the sound. Towns was the only one besides Conrad that was quiet, both of them looking towards the mandeville point with complete impatience. Conrad felt like jumping from his skin. Fidget, well, fidgetted, holding his hands over his headset and listening as if he were trying to hear secret messages in the music. They were ready, their pulses were racing. The crew of the Dhampir was positively vibrating. Conrad looked to the shipboard clock, seeing 1330 displayed, and his head snapped to Fidget, waiting for the word. They were going to run, they were going to chase, they were going to hunt.
Vicky sat back, looking towards Jess and Kukat as they slept. Jess was in her chair, Kukat in her medical bed. Vicky glanced back at the block print on the paper and read it for the fifth time. She read the individual lines, one at a time, cursing their existence. After reading through the message printed she let her hand hang again. Kukat would be released from medical tomorrow, and both her and Jess still thought they would be boarding the Thumper to join the Vellacore once more. Jess had talked non-stop about her quarters on the Vellacore the past few days, how she just wanted to be back in her room. Kukat was equally excited. Only Vicky didn’t share their excitement. They didn’t know yet. They didn’t know about their battlefield promotions, they didn’t know about their reassignments, they didn’t know the days of them working together were functionally over. Vicky looked down at her hand holding the paper again, and felt like crumpling it. She had lost her crew. She had lost them not due to negligence, or time, she had lost them to fame. Kukat was to be promoted to ensign, and was to be the sensor officer on the destroyer Hadrian, Jess was getting the same promotion, her station on the cruiser Victorious. Vicky? She was the sparkling new commanding officer of a destroyer that was arriving at Thermopylae in two days, the Quarrel. She never wanted this. She had turned down promotion after promotion that would take her from the cockpit of the Thumper, away from Kukat, away from Jess. She wanted to serve in this war in her own way, as a pilot, with the two who had made her life so enjoyable. Now though, they were to be split up, and there was nothing she could do about it. These promotions hadn’t come from simple seniority, they had come from High Command, as had the orders. Tomorrow, when Kukat was released, they would be ushered into the hanger bay of the Barrowmore. They would all three be awarded the Star of Terra, then they would be reassigned. Tonight was the last night they would all be together. Vicky wanted to wake them up, she wanted to tell them, to give them a chance to process it. As she looked to Kukat and Jess she couldn’t bring herself to do it. She held up the letter again, reading the first few lines, then she felt the sting of tears in the corners of her eyes. She looked away, her heart panging with sadness, and stared at the wall. The clock read 1330.
Corporal Brandy was sitting on the small rack, with Janet Shippen sitting between his legs using his thighs as armrests. They were both dressed for the first time in the last few hours, both of them staring at the clock. This close to the reactors they could feel them beginning to spool up for the trip through hyperspace. When the news of the operation had come down they had elected to spend as much time together as possible, which Brandy had enjoyed to no end, and he had made sure Janet had as well. Brandy had even taken some time to reach out to his sister Victoria, a rarity for them both, as since they were children they were often barely able to speak to each other simply due to schedules. He had even told her about Janet, and although he hadn’t gotten a response from his sister yet he already knew what she would say. Janet nestled back against him, but he could feel her body was stiff. Neither of them knew what the next few months were going to hold. Their time together might be constricted, in fact, this might be the last few moments they were together for quite awhile. Brandy’s Ghouls were specialists, ship boarders. Chances are he was going to be extremely busy, as was she. He didn’t quite know how he felt about Janet, but he did know that beyond a shadow of a doubt he didn’t want to be away from her. Judging from how she was acting, she felt the same as him, conflicted about her relationship with him, but not wanting to be apart. He knew what he needed to tell her, that he had to get up, that he had to leave. The Ghouls were going to be assembled at 1345, ready to board. Her unit was going to be prepared at the same time, to begin taking on salvage. Her hands were like clamps on his legs, and from how tense she was, he wasn’t going to get up until she was good and ready. The clock on the wall switched to 1330. He stared at the clock, feeling like the clock was mocking him, when suddenly Janet leaned up and turned. Her hands took hold of his shoulders and she threw her body against his, her lips finding his own. Her arms wrapped around her frame and he tightened his grasp on her.
Simmons spread her hands over the panel in front of her, looking at the table. Seven points connected the recently reclaimed chua space to what was former Shesvie territory, and beyond that, the heart of the Vral Empire. Her lip curled in a wicked smile, On the digital display of the table the hyperspace lanes, and more importantly, the avenues of attack her fleet was preparing to take. She held out her hand, all five fingers splayed over the lanes, envisioning the war as it stood now. The war to come. Seven hyperspace lanes, seven systems, branching out into sixteen, branching out again to another twenty. The Antares herself was going to link up with the Barraki, and was set to simply plough through the next five systems to do so. Slowly she tightened her hand into a fist as she looked along the hyperspace lanes, seeing task forces lined up and ready to jump. Drones had already been sent through. The vral had forces along the border, but nothing that could withstand what was to come. Her fleet was ready. She was ready. The Seventh Orion War was at the end of it’s first month, and had taken back six systems. The first moves of Operation Naked Sun would double that and exceed it, then double it again. She had already given her speech, her task force commanders were ready. High Command had taken it’s time making this decision, and while she had railed against the delay that didn’t matter now. All along the front, individual task forces were joined into larger fleets, ready to jump into the next system and eliminate any vral defenses, but unlike now, they simply would not wait. Naked Sun was to be a lightning strike to cut off as much of the Vral Empire as possible, to deny them their own space, to imprison them on their own worlds. Task Forces were designed around three types of vessels combinations, Lighthammer Task Forces were comprised of corvettes and fast destroyers, the fastest vessels in the fleet, meant to take systems quickly, to devastate unprotected infrastructure, and to eliminate light resistance. Simply put, they were going to swarm into vral space, determine pockets of resistance, and move on. They were going to rip entire sections of vral space from them, calling in other task groups if needed. Thunder task groups were the primary capital fleets, meant to be sent into those pockets of resistance, and neutralizing them, joining with the Lighthammer groups if needed. The cruisers, carriers, battleships, they all belonged to these task forces. Her own task force was called the Nova task force, and it comprised only the Antares and it’s sizable fleet escort. Simmons glanced up at the clock, the time was 1329. She breathed in slowly, then unbidden the thought came to her head and she looked to the report from the two habitable planets that had been scanned by the drone cutters, the information having been relayed to her almost twenty minutes prior. She was not worried about the ground campaign, in fact a reserve fleet from Thermopylae would be the ones to escort the landing ships from planet to planet that her fleet left behind in it’s wake, isolated and defenseless from the wider Vral Empire. Fleet escorting was no longer her job, protecting ground invasions were no longer her job. Simmons was positively growling now, as her only job was to take her fleet and use it to rip the vral out of the stars. Still, the thought nagged at her. On both of the planets that her fleet was set to overrun, there were Vral ships in orbit. On the first, there was evidence that the Vral had been bombarding a small area of the surface, extremely similar in size to the hole that now existed on Zvitia, the planet that even now was being integrated into the Terran Front. In the second system it showed Vral ships in orbit, but whatever they were doing during the time they had taken the scans, whatever they were covering up, they didn’t seem to have gotten to it yet. On the radiological scan of the planet a massive bloom of electromagnetic energy painted a broad region of the planet blistering white. She had sent the images back to Earth, back to High Command, but no one seemed to know what was happening. The one thing that every analyst agreed on so far that was that whatever the blooms represented, it meant nothing good. She took another long look at the radiological scan, seeing the intensity of the radiation, and her lip curled in a snarl. She couldn’t think about that right now, but orders had already been given to notify her the moment that they had taken a planet that still bore the radiation signal. The vral were being damned fastidious about it though. She pulled her thoughts away from it, looking back to the hyperspace lanes. The slow grin entered her features again. She glanced at the clock. 1330. Her hand took hold of the receiver next to her station and she pressed the transmission stud, knowing that Hazard had already opened a channel to the wider fleet.
“Commence.”

The original "The Fast and the Furious" released in 2001, contains a biblical subplot. This isn't as farfetched as it seems, considering that this film was re-written before its release by David Ayer, who is considered "...one of the five most prominent Christians in Hollywood." The original screenplay was written by Gary Scott Thompson. His vision for the film was for an all Italian cast racing through the streets of New York City. David Ayer, rendered some rewrites that made the film what has become these 20-something years later. One of his changes sets the film in Los Angeles instead of New York. Scripturally, angels are messengers and there surely is a message in this film, which is a re-telling of Revelation 13 using the analogy of cars and street racing.
To sum up the message of Revelation 13 is this: The Roman Catholic Church represented by "the sea beast" (Revelation 13:1) unites with America represented by "the earth beast" (Revelation 13:11) to issue the Mark of the Beast (Revelation 13:16-18). Scripture supplies the most in-depth literature known to man and this film has become a pop-culture gem because of it. Let's look at some of the symbolism.
Dominic Toretto (Vin Diesel) is an allegory of the Roman Catholic Church. The name Dominic is derived from the Latin Dominicus and is a name given to boys born on Sunday. It is the root word for "Domingo" which is Spanish for Sunday. Contrary to the 7th Day Sabbath of the 4th commandment (Exodus 20:8), Catholics instituted their own day of worship, which is Sunday. Priest Brady, in an address, reported in the Elizabeth, NJ ‘News’ on March 18, 1903, stated, "It is well to remind the Presbyterians, Baptists, Methodists, and all other Christians, that the Bible does not support them anywhere in their observance of Sunday. Sunday is an institution of the Roman Catholic Church, and those who observe the day observe a commandment of the Catholic Church." Their are many pontifical orders in the Catholic Church and one of them is the "Dom-inican" Order. Pope Pius V was of the Dominican Order and he instituted the Inquisition. The Dominican monks are known for brewing beer and in the movie, Dom is constantly advertising "Corona Beer." Dominic Toretto drives a 1993 Mazda RX-7 FD. At the core of this car is a turbocharged Wankel motor, driven by rotors instead of pistons. The rotors are Releaux triangles and were prominent features on gothic style Catholic Churches. The Releaux triangle is also the basic shape for the triquetra which a symbol for the Trinity. The Trinity is never mentioned in Scripture as a name for God which is important. The Trinity is a Catholic invention. The Roman Catholic Church is named as such because it absorbed practices and traditions from the Roman Empire. It was Constantine that issued the first Sunday Law; an attempt to make Sunday holy. They used to hold races in the Coliseum to honor the Roman trinity known as the Captoline Triad or the Archaic Triad. The name Trinity was coined by Tertullian, a staunch Romanist. This is why Dominic uses three Honda Civics to pull of the heists, because Trinitarians believe the Holy Spirit is another being form that sits on the Throne of God; three on the throne. In reality, there are only two being forms, the Father and the Son, on the throne, with their Spirit being inherently there. Dominic's RX-7 has a Veilside body kit. The "veil" (Hebrews 10:20) is symbolic of Jesus Christ and the pope believes that He is an additional incarnation of Christ. In the beginning of Fast X, Dominic is portrayed as a defender of the Vatican and St. Peters. Dominic Toretto is the Roman Catholic Church.
Brian Spilner [O'Conner] (Paul Walker) is an allegory of American Protestantism. The name Brian means "noble" and nobility is defined as having "high morals standards and ideals." Brian is also a police officer or a keeper of the law. America was established as a Protestant Christian nation with the intent of upholding the Law of God. Most Protestants today have forsaken the Sabbath command and uphold the Catholic Sunday. Brian is also on the "wine of Babylon" and is seen drinking and distributing alcohol throughout the film. Protestant denominations now also believe in the Trinity, significantly compromising the strength of the Protest. Is this reflected in Brian's ride? Yes. Brian drives a 1995 Mitsubishi Eclipse. The Mitsubishi symbol is a trinity of diamonds or rhombuses. At the heart of the Eclipse is a PentaStar 4G63 built by Chrysler. Chrysler secured a $75 million war contract to aid in producing J. Robert Oppenheimers "Little Boy"; the atomic bomb dropped on, of all places, Japan. The codename for the first atomic bomb test was "Trinity", named for the Catholic triune god. The American symbolism for Brian's car doesn't stop there. The American rebadged version of the Mitsubishi Eclipse, is the Eagle Talon. There is also an abstract blue and white eagle on the side of Brian's car; the eagle being a prominent symbol for America. Brian's surname "O'Connor" is of Irish origin. Catholics have slandered the name of St. Patrick claiming that he used the shamrock to preach the Trinity, but in reality he was vehemently against, or protested, the Catholic doctrine or the Trinity. Revelation 13:11 says that America sprang up like a Lamb (a symbol of Jesus Christ) but began to speak as a dragon (a symbol for Satan.) This denotes compromise. Brian is seen sitting with Dominic many times drinking alcohol, a sure fire way to lower your inhibitions and compromise your integrity. Brian has illicit relations with Mia, Dominic's sister [who openly displays her devotion to the Catholic Church in the film], which seals his compromise. Brian then ends up lying to his superiors after sleeping with Dom's sister. Brian is an Apostate (Lawless) Protestant Church.
Brian loses his car to Dom in a street race, which transfers ownership of the American-powered Eclipse to Dominic. Eventually, America will be owned by the Roman Catholic Church and will "build an image to the beast" and issue the Mark of the Beast on their behalf. The Eclipse is destroyed. Is not America in such a a state of declension, that the calling of a moral leader seems like the only way to save this country? Remember, Pope Francis came to America in 2015 and addressed not only the nation from the White House, but also an active session of Congress. We are a constitutionally church and state separate nation. What was the Pope doing there? Dom and Brian start working on another car to replace the destroyed Eclipse; a 1994 Toyota Supra. Before 1990, there was no official symbol for Toyota. On October 2, 1989, the official logo was released. The symbol is a "T" comprised of a trinity of ellipses. The code name for a 1994-1998 Supra is the Mark IV(4). So the Toyota Supra contains as mark and a trinity.
So what is the Mark of the Beast? Sunday observance and worship enforced by law. Dominic's name associates him with Sunday and Brian, being a police officer, associates him with the law. When they united to build the Supra together, it symbolized a National Sunday Law aka The Mark of the Beast. Their union also is symbolic of the formation of church and state in America: the "image to the beast." By the way, all graphics for the cars in the film were supplied by "Modern Image." When this forms, we are in "Barney Rubble Trouble." We are a country built on ecclesiastical liberty, but when a Sunday Law is put into motion, those who accept the law, will lose their "Liberty of Conscience." No good. This is why when Pope Francis addressed an active session of Congress, where we pass laws, was not a good sign. In fact, Pope Francis chose a Fiat 500 to ride in when he came to America. The word "fiat" translates to "law." This was not a coincidence.
How does this movie end? After one final race, Dominic flips his car, receiving a "deadly wound" (Revelation 13:3). Dominic (the pope, the outlaw) is not captured and brought up on charges as he should. Instead, Brian (America, the law, the Image to the Beast) hands over the keys to the Supra, giving Dominic complete power and ownership. Scripture says that the Roman Catholic Church will come to an end and that God's true people need to "come out of her...lest ye be partakers of her plagues..."
The promotion of Sunday, the exaltation of the Trinity, the apocalyptic formation of the Image of the Beast (Church and State) and the fraudulent retelling of prophecy is all contained in a little movie about street racing released almost 23 years ago. The sequels, attractions, and merchandise have never ceased to roll off the assembly line. Sequels that point to Dominic as a Catholic Champion. Even in "The Fast and the Furious: Tokyo Drift", the first song to play is "Six Days" by DJ Shadow. [Refer to Exodus -11] This song puts Monday as the first day of the week making Sunday the Seventh Day, giving Sunday the appearance that it is the Sabbath of the Lord. Yes. The Fast and the Furious is arrayed against the Law of God. The sobering fact is, Revelation 13 is already being played out right in front of our eyes. This film, which could arguably be called "The Last Great Film Before 9/11", portrayed the various steps and phases that America, nay the world, was about to go through, with the audience unaware. Sadly, Paul Walker has passed, but the message lives on today, with the OG Fast and Furious still being the greatest effort in the series.
Thank you for your time and consideration. 🙏🏾🙏🏽
Please watch the video Swift to Mischief: A Prophetic Exposition of "The Fast and the Furious" for greater detail.

Looking for a new tattoo that would be on my forearm or shoulder that’s inspired by destiny’s design. I’ve been playing since 2014, and main hunter. Any ideas? For symbolization i’d want the meaning to align with strength/endurnace/perseverance

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
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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
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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.
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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.
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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.

Lesson 11: Reflecting on Progress and Adjustment
Take a moment to reflecton your journey so far. Acknowledge any insights, shifts, or challenges you've encountered. The Hermit card represents introspection and wisdom gained through experience. Meditate on your personal growth, recognizing the lessons learned.
Exercise 11: Set aside time for self-reflection. Create a list of key insights from your Tarot studies and experiences. Consider any adjustments needed in your approach to personal development.
Lesson 12: Shadow Work with the Devil
Explore the concept of shadow work using the Devil card. Shadow work involves confronting and integrating aspects of yourself that you may avoid. Engage in a guided meditation to delve into your shadows.
Exercise 12: Journal about your shadow work experience. Identify any patterns or behaviors that may need acknowledgment and acceptance. Explore ways to transform and integrate these aspects.
Lesson 13: Healing Energy with the Star
The Star card represents hope, healing, and renewal. Practice a guided meditation focusing on accessing healing energy and envisioning a bright future.
Exercise 13: Incorporate healing practices into your routine. Whether through meditation, energy work, or self-care, align with the energy of the Star to promote emotional and physical well-being.
Lesson 14: Finding Balance with Temperance
Learn about balance and moderation with the Temperance card. Engage in a meditation to cultivate harmony within, blending different aspects of your life.
Exercise 14: Identify areas where balance is needed in your life. Create a plan to incorporate moderation and equilibrium. Journal about the effects of finding harmony in daily activities.
Lesson 15: Transformation with Death
Understand the transformative energy of the Death card. Meditate on embracing change and letting go of what no longer serves your growth.
Exercise 15: Reflect on aspects of your life that require transformation. Journal about what needs releasing and how you can navigate change positively. Embrace the potential for rebirth.
Lesson 16: Strength and Resilience with the Strength Card
Explore the concept of inner strength and resilience with the Strength card. Engage in a guided meditation to tap into your inner fortitude.
Exercise 16: Identify situations where you need inner strength. Practice the qualities of courage and resilience in your daily life. Journal about moments of personal strength.
Lesson 17: Exploring Intuition with the Hanged Man
Delve into the Hanged Man's energy, representing surrender and a shift in perspective. Practice intuitive exercises and meditation to enhance your connection with higher guidance.
Exercise 17: Dedicate time to intuitive practices, such as meditation and divination. Record any intuitive insights and how they guide your decision-making. Reflect on the power of surrender.
Lesson 18: Embracing Change with the Wheel of Fortune
Understand the cyclical nature of life with the Wheel of Fortune. Meditate on embracing change, acknowledging the constant ebb and flow of existence.
Exercise 18: Reflect on cycles in your life. Identify areas where change is needed and how you can align with the natural rhythm. Journal about your willingness to adapt to life's fluctuations.
Lesson 19: Wisdom and Experience with the Hierophant
The Hierophant represents tradition and spiritual guidance. Engage in a meditation to connect with your inner wisdom and seek guidance from spiritual sources.
Exercise 19: Explore different spiritual practices. Incorporate rituals or traditions that resonate with you. Journal about the insights gained and the connection to your inner wisdom.
Lesson 20: Integration and Mastery with the World
As you conclude your Tarot journey, meditate on the energy of the World card, symbolizing completion and mastery. Reflect on how your understanding of esoteric wisdom has deepened.
Exercise 20: Summarize your Tarot journey. Create a visual representation or written reflection on how each card has contributed to your personal growth. Celebrate your achievements and newfound wisdom.
Congratulations on completing your Tarot journey! May your ongoing exploration of esoteric wisdom bring continued insight and inspiration.

Currently there are 306,186,849 shares of common stock outstanding. Last week, the posted snapshot from Bloomberg indicated that in sum about 1.2 million shares have been bought by GameStop under rule 10b-18. This would decrease the publicly available share count to approximately 305 million. GameStop have now declared they may at any time issue an additional 45 million common shares and 5 million preferred shares.
Tinfoil Prediction: they will issue 10 million common shares at market price and raise the share count (ex counterfeits) to 315 million. That number is divisible by 7. After issuance of those 10 million common shares, they will issue one (fraction of a) preferred share for every 7 common shares (741). The preferred shares will be issued via an issuing agent which happens to be Computershare. Accounts held with the transfer agent, which also happens to be computershare, will receive the preferred shares directly and the remaining 60-70% of preferred shares will be dumped on the depo (DTC) or the brokers, who then can try to distribute them (lol) or rather fight for them because: Holders of shares of Common Stock held in “street name” through a brokerage account, bank or other nominee will not receive physical rights certificates and must instruct their broker, bank or other nominee whether to exercise Subscription Rights on their behalf.
The clue is in the name and preferred shares have some preferable status, such as regular dividends etc. In this particular case, they may have the non-transferable and non (cash-)substitutable right attached to a subscription of common shares, meaning the right to acquire common shares at a predefined price such as for a discount to the market price. This makes preferred shares inherently more valuable than common shares (take a look at BNED this week and their filing on 15 May 2024). Consequently, market participants may compete to receive the preferred shares and may pay a premium for common shares prior to issuance of preferred shares or recall the ones which may have been lent. This may put shorts under water. GameStop may use the proceeds from issuing 10 million shares to strengthen the balance sheet. GameStop might also incentivize holders of preferred stock further by issuing other benefits such as NFT divis, wu tang audio etc. However, the proceeds may also be used to finance equity investments in compliance with GameStops investment policy or repurchase of their common stock. The continuation of such repurchases under rule 10b-18 may be particularly interesting at the time due to the volume restriction based on average trading volume of the preceding four weeks at the time of a buyback under this rule. Currently, the 10 day trading volume is 73.1 million shares (according to Schwab). This is another factor that might put shorts under water. To spell it out clearly: given the action of the last week, GameStop could currently raise capital (but don’t need to) and repurchase a fat amount of its own common stock on the free market and yet remain in compliance with the safe harbor rule.
Substantial rises in the stock price could then incentive GameStop to issue more of their remaining 35 million shares of common stock to procure working capital or capital for future buybacks. However, a decreasing stock price could incentivize GameStop to issue shares and then repurchase them at a lower price, continuously decreasing the share count and thus applying upwards pressure on the price in the long run. Holders of common stock AND preferred stock need not worry about this since proceeds from the business activities could then be rerouted via preferred shares. In the end, every market participant had a right and chance to gain his preferred shares, right ;)
Edit: fractionalizability of preferred shares as defined in the recently published S3 document.
Edit 2: Relevant Barnes filing:
BASKING RIDGE, N.J.--(BUSINESS WIRE)--May 15, 2024--Barnes & Noble Education, Inc. (NYSE: BNED) (“BNED” or the “Company”), a leading solutions provider for the education industry, announced today that its registration statement for its fully backstopped $45 million equity rights offering (the “Rights Offering”), was declared effective by the Securities and Exchange Commission (“SEC”) on May 14, 2024.
The Rights Offering is one of the previously announced proposed transactions (the “Transactions”) contemplated by the Company’s definitive agreement with Immersion Corporation (NASDAQ: IMMR) (“Immersion”), and certain of the Company’s existing shareholders and strategic partners, that will enable the Company to substantially deleverage its balance sheet, strategically invest in innovation and operate from a position of strength. The Transactions remain subject to shareholder approval and other closing conditions.
Upon closing of the Transactions, which is currently expected to occur in June 2024:
BNED will receive gross proceeds of $95 million of new equity capital through the Rights Offering and a $50 million new equity investment led by Immersion; the Transactions are expected to infuse approximately $75 million of net cash proceeds after transaction costs;
The Company’s existing second lien lenders will convert approximately $34 million of outstanding principal and any accrued and unpaid interest into BNED Common Stock; and
The Company has received commitments to refinance its existing asset backed loan facility, pursuant to an agreement with its first lien holders, providing the Company with access to a $325 million facility (the “ABL Facility”) maturing in 2028. The refinanced ABL Facility will meaningfully enhance BNED’s financial flexibility and reduce its annual interest expense.
Through the Rights Offering, BNED will issue 900,000,000 shares of its common stock, par value $0.01 per share (the “Common Stock”) at a cash subscription price (the “Subscription Price”) of $0.05 per share. In the Rights Offering, BNED will distribute to each holder of record of its Common Stock on May 14, 2024 (the “Record Date”) one non-transferable subscription right (each, a “Subscription Right”) for every share of Common Stock owned by such holder on the Record Date, and each Subscription Right will entitle the holder to purchase 17 shares of Common Stock. Each holder that fully exercises their Subscription Rights will be entitled to Over-Subscription Rights to subscribe for additional shares of Common Stock that remain unsubscribed as a result of any unexercised Subscription Rights, which allows such holder to subscribe for additional shares of Common Stock up to the number of shares purchased under such holder’s basic Subscription Right at $0.05 per share.
If any Subscription Rights remain unexercised upon the expiration of the Rights Offering after accounting for all Over-Subscription Rights exercised, the standby purchasers led by Immersion, Outerbridge Capital Management, LLC and Selz Family 2011 Trust will collectively purchase, at the Subscription Price, up to $45 million in shares of Common Stock not subscribed for by the Company’s stockholders.
The Company will not issue fractional shares in the Rights Offering or cash in lieu of fractional shares of Common Stock. Any fractional shares of Common Stock that would be created by an exercise of the Subscription Rights will be rounded to the nearest whole share.
The Company expects that the net proceeds of the offering will be used to pay expenses in connection with the Transactions and reduce the balance under the Company’s ABL Facility.
The Company expects that Computershare Trust Company N.A., the subscription agent for the Rights Offering, will mail rights certificates and a copy of the prospectus for the Rights Offering to holders of record of Common Stock as of the Record Date beginning on or about May 15, 2024. Holders of shares of Common Stock held in “street name” through a brokerage account, bank or other nominee will not receive physical rights certificates and must instruct their broker, bank or other nominee whether to exercise Subscription Rights on their behalf.
The subscription period will expire at 5:00 p.m., Eastern Time, on June 5, 2024. However, the Company may extend the period for exercising the Subscription Rights. Subscription Rights that are not exercised by the expiration date of the Rights Offering will expire and will have no value.
The shares of Common Stock to be issued upon exercise of the Subscription Rights will be listed for trading on the New York Stock Exchange (“NYSE”) under the symbol “BNED.” The Subscription Rights are non-transferable and the Company will not be listing the Subscription Rights on the NYSE or any other national securities exchange.
Neither the Company nor its Board of Directors has made or will make any recommendation to holders regarding the exercise of Subscription Rights. Holders should make an independent investment decision about whether or not to exercise their Subscription Rights based on their own assessment of the Company’s business, the Rights Offering and the other Transactions.
Questions about the Rights Offering or requests for a copy of the prospectus related to the Rights Offering may be directed to the Information Agent, Innisfree M&A Incorporated, at (877) 800-5185. (Banks & Brokers may call collect: (212) 750-5833.
Other Important Information
The issuance and sale of shares of Common Stock pursuant to the Rights Offering is subject to, among other things, the approval of our stockholders at a special meeting (the “Special Meeting”) to be held on June 5, 2024. If the issuance and sale of our Common Stock pursuant to the Rights Offering is not approved at the Special Meeting, then the Rights Offering will be cancelled. The Rights Offering is being made pursuant to the Company’s registration statement on Form S-1 (File No. 333-278799), which was declared effective on May 14, 2024. The Company reserves the right to cancel or terminate the Rights Offering at any time. This press release does not constitute an offer to sell or the solicitation of an offer to buy any Subscription Rights or any other securities to be issued in the Rights Offering or any related transactions, nor shall there be any offer, solicitation or sale of Subscription Rights or any other securities in any jurisdiction in which such offer, solicitation or sale would be unlawful.
Edit 3: Barnes pumped 150% on Friday.

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Season 10 “Days of Fury” - Episode 2 “Visiting Omen”

He had hoped for a boring day. Boring days are good at work, and Santos was already expecting to not have many of them for a while.
The first couple of days were boring, as usual- Blackriver is a small town, and the worst that had happened was Nila and Kessa making a few wellness checks after worried calls from neighbors. A couple of people in denial, a few ashamed at their own violent outbursts and a stern warning to Tamm about painting others’ properties without asking first.
This morning, however, began with an all-hands meeting. There were no meeting rooms in the office, so they made do in the general workspace room, they all stood there at the center while Keya looked them over.
“We have received a report from a neighboring city about a convoy of protestors making its way to Blackriver” she describes without tone. At this point nobody bothers interrupting.
“This convoy is comprised of approximately four hundred and seventy eight individuals of multiple species, primarily human and venlil but with operationally relevant representations of the entire spectrum of size and mobility types” her paws are behind her back, her ears focused directly ahead, her eyes centered to keep the entire team on the core of her focus “They have crossed multiple cities already, generally engaging in verbal sparring with any figure of authority, parading signs and banners denouncing all manners of authorities as well as occasionally engaging in physical altercations with officers.”
“They are also known to engage in vandalism. Though primarily aimed at exterminator and police precincts as well as public offices, they have already caused considerable collateral to others they have identified as ‘collaborators’” there’s a single heartbeat of waiting for breath before she continues “They have, however, not shown to be an incredibly organized group or one with a clear goal and objective. The convoy appears to contain only extremely emotionally charged people with no clear overarching goal.”
“We are incapable of dealing with the situation should they turn aggressive, as such we will be simply maintaining watch and relocating the populace should they become a problem.” Then, she picks up her holopad and passes it to Lunek beside her “They can only follow one path with the entire convoy, the central street, therefore I have divided it into four sectors. One of each will be assigned to a sector.”
First her ears turn to the first target “Lunek, sector one at the entrance. As the most approachable member of the precinct your task is to give an initial image of harmlessness. Do not engage first, do not take initiative against them. Ensure the members of the herd in the area are warned of their approach. If they become aggressive, retreat and focus on the escape of the herd.”
She tilts her head a little bit, turning her ears the other way “Marik, sector two. Mostly the commercial area, your task is ostensive protection to lower the chances of them initiating aggression. Whereas protection of the herd is first priority your second priority is ensuring Tenve’s Hardware Store as well as Sunbreeze Meals and Watchful Café remain capable of providing anyone whose residences become damaged.” suddenly, she turns her head entirely to face Marik “Ostensive protection means dissuasion, ensure that they know they are not under threat and as long as those specific areas are not engaged, do not provoke”
Next in her line of fire is Santos “As our human officer you will be in sector three, nearby the precinct. They are liable to become most agitated in this area and your presence may serve to calm them. You are not to engage, if deemed necessary the precinct’s materials are considered expendable, do not attempt to stop them”
“Sector four, the exit of town, will be with me to ensure that they have fully left Blackriver and will not attempt to turn back” then she tilts her ears again “Aren, you will gear up with a CCG and remain out of view range, your task will be quick emergency response should the need arise.” she then points her tail at the last three officers “Vess, your task will be to inform the herd and ensure a clear path for the convoy while Nila and Kessa will gather all of our medical supplies and set a staging area out of the convoy’s range. Organize ambulance assistance from Striped Hill and Everrain”
Then, she turns her ears around to focus each one in turn “As any attempt at aggression will end only in negative consequences, and in order to reduce the apparent levels of threat you will be unarmed. The estimated time of arrival is a third of a claw, ready yourselves and be at your post in time. Dismissed.”
“Not sure if I like or I don’t that we had the cold bastard right now” Aren says, as soon as Keya had left the room “Maybe we should move in closer when the convoy gets to sector four?”
“Probably a good idea to be nearby” Santos adds with a sigh “They might take umbrage with her demeanor, hopefully they won’t be set off too hard.”
And with silent signs of agreement all of the officers of Blackriver depart for preparations. The first ones to leave the precinct are the ones in charge of support, the two girls set off early to find someone willing to permit usage of their lawn as a possible impromptu field hospital and a little while later Aren leaves with a heavy CCG.
Slowly, the clock ticks to the appointed claw… And soon enough, Lunek can see in the distance the incoming omen of people. At first a distant line in the horizon, slowly the dark mark on the road coalesces into distinct shapes, the shapes of hundreds of vehicles slowly rolling down the road.
When the first few get close to the initial buildings of the main street, the entire convoy slows down. Their process of preparation is seemingly laborious, each vehicle houses multiple people at a time, smaller cars full to the brim, flatbeds with more people on their cargo space than can safely be contained, even buses conscripted for the effort. They carry with them signs, flags, a multitude of symbols as they dismount their vehicles and start spreading out to fill the street.
They seem to naturally form two distinct yet highly mixed groups, at its most distinctive is the pack of humans who keep a good distance from each other. But they are not alone in this group as takkan, mazic, yotul, zurulian and even drilvar form this central group. But flowing around them, not avoiding their presence but never infringing in their space is the grey mass of venlil, packed tight together, and mixed in there adding color to the monochromatic flux are krakotl, tilfish, sulean, iftali, sivkit and even a seemingly very confused duerten.
And at the very core of the moving group are their vehicles, which gently start rolling forward again as the group starts moving. Lunek simply waits, silently, by the side of the road, his ears attentively swiveling from one side to the other, expression having given way to function. Before the first of the convoy even arrives close he turns to the side, making a pointing sign with his tail. A woman who had been watching from her yard flicks her right ear and runs back inside.
He continues to wait, scanning around at all times for the presence of… Anything. The street is empty of locals when the first visitors start to alight. The convoy is loud, their symbols carry a loudness of colors and their vehicles make as much noise as they can to draw attention, but those who walk seem content in allowing their tools to speak for them, for now. Lunek tries to make sense of the banners and signs, but the messages are disparate as the group- Some speak of injustices against their people, some speak of anger at invaders, some speak of betrayal.
“Fuck off, fireman!” comes the harsh bark of a human, causing Lunek to flinch. But flinch is all he does, he simply starts walking alongside the moving convoy.
The exterminator’s attention is drawn to the details of the few people he can distinguish amongst the mass. Something tickles at his pattern-recognition but he cannot quite ascertain what for a while, until a lightly limping mazic makes her way to the edge of the mass “Want to finish the job?!” she trumpets, her form towering over his.
“I’m just observing, ma’am.” Though the tremor of his voice is noticeable, he remains stoic. But her proximity makes him notice something about her body, marks in her wrists, neck and feet. Though mazic have powerful wrists and knuckles upon which they support the front half of their weight, her left wrist seems completely incapable of it, giving her a limp particular to a three-point walk. “To make sure there’s no impediment on your path” he notices the leathery skin around her left wrist is deeply blackened.
“Oh, ‘no impediment’ is that it? So everyone that lives here is an impediment?!” her voice booms.
“Ma’am” still, he does not yield nor does he break his pace following the convoy “We have not done anything other than inform our people of your presence…” for a half second all he hears is the sound of his own heart “We can’t do anything else.”
Those words, then, sealed his fate. The first shout to echo in his direction was a yotul howling “Yeah you’re useless!” and soon the avalanche came in multiple voices and languages “Can’t do shit!” “You’re just here to hurt people!” “Useless crap!” “Idiot!” and many more.
With every step and twitch the very average exterminator puts all of his focus on just being there. He lets himself cower a little bit, against the barrage it is difficult not to, but he continues to accompany. A few curious coats step out from their houses to watch, but the front of the convoy seems far too focused on the sole exterminator in view to bother anyone else.
A few steps ahead, an older venlil with a cane has moved the closest to the convoy as any watcher has up to now. Seeing her proximity to the increasingly rowdy crowd causes Lunek to speed up, quickly approaching her “Leva-”
But his words are stalled when she puts a paw on his shoulder, she gently puts her head against his for just a second “You’re doing good pup, keep at it” she mutters to him before breaking contact and turning around to walk back inside. He can spy her grandchildren looking on through the door. Lunek looks back at the still-shouting moving convoy, takes a deep breath, and continues to accompany them forward. A small pawful of them, however, seem to have fallen silent.
Once having reached the limit of his assigned zone, however, Lunek stops. He watches the convoy move forward, past the houses, now noisier than before. The initial hollering at him had turned into disjointed screams at some indistinct foe- Though the herd had been noticed of a foe, it was yet unaware of who, or what, said foe was. So for now it howled at the ineptitude of… Someone. And as the last of the convoy passes beyond the imaginary line of his duty, Lunek lets out a deep sigh and allows himself to sit down on the ground.
He stays there for a moment, without thought, simply letting the tension, confusion and fear permeate his body until a gentle paw touches his arm. He doesn’t need to look to identify it, he lets his lover use her strength to prop him up, raising him to his feet “Keina you shouldn’t-”
“Neighbor’s looking over Tiss” his wife wraps her arms and tail around him “I’m not leaving you alone.” she stays like that for a second, before breaking off “Do you need to go after them?”
“No”
Marik stalks through the sidewalk, moving with energy. His speed outpaces the movement of the convoy, his paws twitch to grasp at something that isn’t there and a deep and intense motion makes his short fur stand on end. He had let the convoy’s head move in front of him, simply standing still as he assessed as many as he could in the mass, and now he had begun to move towards the front again.
As he stalked forward he focused his sight on every member of the convoy that seemed of interest. A human whose clothes seemed suspiciously loose, a venlil whose movements were far too stiff, a gojid who kept his claws behind his back. He stared at each like they were his quarry, analyzing every piece of movement they made for threats, and yet aside from the challenge in the human’s gaze he saw no danger arise.
Tenve had closed his shop, so as the convoy moved forward Marik simply continued to follow along, scanning the crowd for threats. But the next point of interest arrives, and he rushes ahead placing himself in front of the only restaurant of the town. Sunbreeze Meals wasn’t a very common sort of restaurant, Blackriver did not have enough visitors for a normal restaurant to be profitable and was small enough most people had their meals at home, it most often served takeout for those farmers who’d spend so long in the field they would return home without the energy to feed themselves.
Sparing a look inside at the only five tables, Marik couldn’t keep a small thought away from his mind. How most who got their meals from Sunbreeze these days did so because they enjoyed the cooking rather than their need of work, ever since the sunspeck population has been brought under control and the maintenance of the fields had become much smaller. He feels the presence long before he can recognize what led him to feel it and turns to stare at a group of six that approach the entrance: Two humans, a tilfish, two gojids and a takkan had broken off from the convoy and approached the restaurant.
He traces his color band over each in turn, and they all bristle at his stare. One of the humans hesitates before continuing to walk inside, and Marik simply remains by the door with his arms crossed, left ear twisted as far back as he could to listen to the inside.
“What have you got here?”
“W-we mostly ha-have ready ma-made meals to go or- or- Or you can look over the menu”
“There’s no need to stutter, y’know”
“So-sorry-”
“Really, after everything y’all are still with this predator crap?”
The chimes on the door echo for the second time in sequence as Marik makes his way inside. The tilfish had started to lean over the counter while the other five had arrayed themselves behind her. They all turn their attention to him as he enters, including the venlil manning the counter. Marik keeps his gaze directly on the tilfish for a few uncomfortable seconds, before looking at the man behind the counter and making a simple sign with his tail, a short vertical bob with the tip and a slow horizontal swipe. It’s meaning simple: >Safe<.
After a few seconds someone else appears from the kitchen. The tall venlil carries a large stack of plastic boxes in his arms, all of them seemingly designed to attach to themselves so as to be carried with ease. He puts them down with a resounding crash on the counter, and opens up his voice with ice “Farmer’s Pots, good meal when you’re working and can’t go home.” With each word the owner of the restaurant and main cook comes closer and closer to the tilfish, until the last “Ten credits each.”
Nobody moves for a couple of seconds, and then one of the humans steps closer and brings a holopad over to the credit reader. There’s a noise indicating payment, and then the owner raises his head and tilts it to focus his favored eye and both of his ears at the man who paid “Now,” he shifts register in his voice and the language he speaks in “fuck off” he finishes.
With no small amount of surprise the group of six retrieve the stack of packaged meals, carefully walking out and back into the convoy. Marik stays behind for a moment “Didn’t know you spoke human”
“Pup’s enamored with their languages. Of course, first greek words he learns is swearing.”
Outside, Marik stalks further ahead to the next point of interest. He moves faster than the convoy, and has time to move in front of it. For a few meters the street is still clear as he arrives to find a group of people standing in front of the Watchful. Standing there were all of its employees, and even all of its regulars, twenty people total standing there as if they were having the most normal day. If not for their raised ears tracking every noise coming from down the street and their swaying tails swinging about like angry beasts.
One of them simply points his tail at the other side of the street as Marik comes closer, and the hunter doesn’t need a second command to understand the meaning. They have this, he has a less practical but just as important duty. He crosses the street quickly before the convoy starts coming closer, and heads towards the park.
As the regulars of the Watchful had feared, it took little time until a large group had broken off from the convoy. With the town on alert about the convoy they had found themselves bereft of prey and now this group had set out to find some, anyone who might be willing, or not, to listen to their grievances. And what is clearly a place designed for people to congregate looked most appetizing.
Marik shadowed the group as they moved through the park, but they were accompanied by nothing but silence. It wasn’t until they ran into the centerpiece of the park that he took initiative, stepping ahead of the group and simply… Standing there a distance away from the tree of many scions, between it and the group.
“What’s so important over there, fireman?” it was a venlil who asked, but his usage of an english word was not lost on Marik.
“A place you will respect” the exterminator has his arms crossed, the one good portion of his gaze set on the man who asked “This is a grave.”
Though the group that now prowled was large, those who heard were taken aback. One such, however, approaches closer. He was a venlil whose fur shifted between a soft, brownish color and a dirty white “A tradition of the tenets right? One of those family trees?” The man would have been distinctive in any other group due to his missing patches of fur around neck, wrists, even portions around his head. But such signs of long term damage were common in the convoy.
Interest. They had shown true interest, or at least one of them had. “No, but similar… The forgotten tree is a grave for the forgotten.” He felt like these people, at least the ones before him, could probably understand the meaning of this place “It is of no tradition. Someone, a long time ago, wanted to honor someone who was gone but whose name was not meant to be remembered. Someone who had disappeared in the system… So they borrowed on another’s tradition, and added a scion to this tree, with something in their memory. Others have done so similarly, until it became… A grave for the forgotten”
“Didn’t think you’d be worried about this kind of place” it’s a human that speaks up this time
“Our duty is to protect this town, what you think-” but Marik’s words are interrupted by that same venlil who had asked before. His demeanor suddenly shifts, his ears perk up and his entire body shifts forward for a moment. He hesitates, for a second everyone’s focus is on him, and then he runs towards the tree.
Marik follows behind, stopping just by the man’s side as he finds himself at the base of the tree. The man makes a direct line to somewhere, something he had found from the distance, as if it had called him. He finds a thick and heavy branch that had been bent down by the weight of its scions and memories, near its base and speaking of a memory left behind long ago is a braid of fur made of three colors, a dirty white, a soft brown and a dark grey, bound by the braids are two beads.
The man raises up a paw, but does not touch it. As if cradling it, he recites the words engraved in one of the beads “I will cross every star to return home” others have come closer to listen to the man’s hoarse voice “There will always be a home for you” he reads of the second one. The names on the beads have been scratched out. The man falls on his knees “S-she kept her promise and… I couldn’t keep mine…”
Marik steps back as he watches two others come closer to comfort the man. He looks as a few others approach with more caution, looking up at the tree with a bit more reverence than they had before. Then, he turns around and starts heading back towards the main street.
Gazing out as the convoy gains a new flux, some leave it as it passes to move towards the park while others leave the park to rejoin the convoy, Marik simply stays there at the side of the street looking as stern as he could. Though the noise of the convoy remains great, here in this portion it seems to die down a little. A thought crosses his mind as he turns an ear as far back as he can, a thought he can’t help but voice “I wonder how many are looking at their own graves…”
As the convoy progresses, Santos simply stands by the front of the precinct, hands in his pockets. He watches the convoy arrive, heart beating fast, constrained hands the only reason he hasn't started shaking quite yet. He starts tapping his right foot as he watches the first few people cross by without noticing what this place is yet, everyone knows where the precinct is, so aside from the words printed on the sign by the entrance there is no other marker of what this building’s purpose might be.
Of course, it is impossible for nobody to notice. The entire convoy seems to stop as soon as a zurulian riding on the shoulders of a human points a claw at the building and says something. A large group breaks away at the command, all of them holding disparate signs and messages. They turn on the building with enough roars that whatever they are attempting to transmit is lost on him.
Santos is thankful his hearing isn’t nearly as good as his coworkers’, as the cacophony is already overwhelming him. He changes stances slightly, taking his hands out of his pockets and crossing his arms. This prompts a small group to turn their looks at him, the focus easily identifiable with the humans in their midst, focus which made the hair in the back of Santos’ neck stand on end. Living in this place had refined his sense of danger, but he didn’t need that to realize what could happen.
It was a group of five that approached, four humans and a venlil. “Didn’t think they’d be letting humans live out here in the boonies” said one of his kin.
Santos just shrugs “Got hired to work here. Honestly, rural folk get a needlessly bad reputation, most of the time they just don’t care as long as you’re not bothering them”
“Really? In my-”
Santos interrupts the man “Cut it out” there are many ways in which humans make themselves obvious, many of which are their eyes. Santos did understand the fear of them and why it was primal, it was not the fear of the eyes but the fear of attention, it was knowing you were under the scrutiny and judgment of another that set off that emotion. It was rarely the eyes that showed this attention for most species, but for humans it was, and the man’s clear gaze on his badge made the entire situation clear to him “Stop beating around the bush and say it already.”
Someone else is who speaks. The tall woman starts not with words, however, but by spitting on Santos’ uniform “You fucking traitor” her voice is both fierce and cold at the same time. A very emotional coldness.
“There we go” he sighs “Just… Move on. We’re not getting anything out of this conversation”
“Why?” It was the venlil in the group that started this time “These people hate you, they hate you for what you are! Why do you work for them?!”
Santos rubs his eyes and sighs “Because someone has to. Change only happens when you make it happen, simple as that”
“Change?!” another one of the humans howls “Do you think those people can change?! You know the truth, those fuckers have never done anything good!”
“You know, if you had read your history books…” Santos stares at the one who had just had their outburst “You’d remember that we once thought the very same about the police” there’s the sound of glass breaking, but he doesn’t reaction “And a lot of us still do”
The human staring him down shifts their gaze slightly at the broken window of the precinct, then back at Santos “A broken window is easy to fix” he shrugs “As I was saying. Same shit.” he crosses his arms again “There’s a role those people play, a role that needs to be played because it’s important. Different name, different problems, still the same shit. Gotta fix this, I’m doing my part” he then stares at the venlil in the group “You do yours. Simple as that.”
“Role?!” the venlil of the group steps closer “What role could they possibly have?! They only exist to hurt people!”
Santos steps back, and raises his eyes a little bit. Of course, the classics had shown themselves in this instance. With as many humans as there are in the crowd there were now quite a few objects in the air, most clearly aimed at the precinct behind him. Though given the failed arc of some of them it was clearly not just the humans indulging in such a tried and true method.
“I used to be a wildlife preserve ranger” Santos then focuses his gaze on the aggravated venlil “This is a frontier town, if you walk in the brushes with shorts you’ll walk out with your ankles numb. The athai out there are rather harmless, but they keep the sunspecks under control.” He takes another step back “Since coming here I’ve been pest control, had to catch an exotic animal set loose, investigated a murder, helped stop a child from taking her own life, stopped large scale fights, helped a dozen people avoid being arrested for self defense and helped break a fucking siege”
Santos cracks his knuckles “There’s roles. Jobs that need done and there is one fucking organization doing it all. That is a problem.” Then, he sighs and takes a few more steps to the side, offering indifference from this point on “There’s nothing I can say that would make you calm down.” he says one final time “Just make sure not to injure yourselves in the process, alright?” His words seemed to be enough to make the small group cease trying to interact, as the convoy had begun moving again. Though the one human who had called him a traitor gets one final parting shot at the precinct “Where the hell did you get an egg in this planet…” Santos says with a raised eyebrow as the projectile impacts the front door.
Keya stands by a large sign, the same one that welcomes you into Blackriver on one side and sees you out at the other, the official limit of the town. Her arms behind her back, her attention directly towards the front of the convoy as they march. Something gains the whole of her attention, the car in the front. Someone draws her focus, a human with a megaphone on top of the car. The man shouts words of encouragement at the people behind him with the megaphone before turning to his holopad, then he bends over downwards to discuss something with the driver.
She simply remains there, waiting for the convoy to pass. But instead of moving on out of the city, here the convoy stops completely. Keya observes as the further end of the convoy starts to slowly compact upon itself, and her ears pick up something “Alright everyone, start getting ready, next town over is more than a claw away, make sure you’ve left nothing behind” the words were not meant for her, nor for anyone too far. They come from the same man she had seen standing on top of the car, but he had now climbed down and was talking with a group of multiple species.
It is clear they have some degree of leadership, though the convoy does not stop cleanly nor does it begin to organize with alacrity they do respond to the group’s organization. So Keya keeps her focus on them as they point, wave and talk between themselves, others and devices. But at least one of them has noticed her attention, a gangly and light-skinned human with fire-red hair, the man that was atop the car. He starts walking in her direction, before turning around for one final set of commands as he walks backwards “And make sure the guys at the back got all the crap! We’re here to be heard, not to trash the city!” he says before turning back again to head towards her. A venlil with pure white fur erupts from inside the car he was riding, quickly dashing to his side as they notice where he was going.
In a few moments both have come up to her, the human looking down at her with the venlil bristles at his side “Saw anything interesting, fireman?”
“What are you doing here?”
“What? Isn’t it obvious?!” it was the venlil that roared a response “You saw all of it! You know what they’ve done to us! What they’ve done to everyone! And you still work for those brahking monsters! It’s like you’re thankful they made you a cripple!”
The human puts a hand on the venlil’s shoulder, calming her demeanor just a little bit “We’re here because honestly, we’re all too tired of being fucking ignored is what. So what the fuck are you gonna do?!”
“I have put the wrong emphasis” Keya says with her lack of tone. She can see the human shiver just a little bit “My task is to ensure the safety of this town. Your convoy is a danger. We have eight field-capable officers, we cannot ensure the safety of the residents against a group like yours. People will take actions for reasons, you have broadcast your reasons clearly. You have chosen this place for a reason which I cannot ascertain.”
She makes sure her ears are trained towards both the human and the venlil, an action which causes the venlil to cower behind her partner “We do not house government agencies. This is a farming town of little note. The local precinct is a simple precinct, we have no regulatory or command authority. The town population is approximately double that of the number of your convoy. We have no individuals of appreciable social or political reach. There is nothing in Blackriver of interest to people attempting to change government policy, nor have there been actions taken here that I can identify as being cause for retaliatory actions within the context of your message.”
“I must ensure this does not happen again and the only way of doing so is minimizing our attractivity as targets. A logical assumption of your choice of quarry would be a town with the presence of politicians, a large city with constant news coverage, cities housing important government agencies or those containing the Regional Firebases”
“So I ask again. What are you doing here?”
The two remain silent for a few seconds, before the human turns around with a mouth noise “Whatever, I don’t need to explain myself to someone that won’t listen. Come on!” he starts to stalk back towards the car, but stops once he notices his venlil companion wasn’t moving.
The snow-white venlil has their focus on Keya, who offers a simple low forward swipe of her tail, a sign to proceed. Still, the venlil seems frozen in place until the human comes back and grabs hold of their paw with a gentle touch. At which point both finally return to the convoy.
Keya remains at the side of the road, watching as the convoy readies itself again to leave. People get back inside cars, they hop on the back of trucks and load themselves into buses. She continues to watch as the convoy takes its time riding out, making their way out of the town.
Once it is finally gone, multiple footsteps sound behind her. When she turns around she meets her officers, having returned from their assigned positions “They have left. I expect your reports of what happened in each sector by the end of your shifts” she states plainly, before looking at Santos “They did not appear to have a specific reason for targeting Blackriver.” The question remains unspoken.
The human officer just shrugs “Sometimes, you don’t know what you’re doing. We’re just a little town, I doubt they even know what exactly they’re angry about.” He looks at the tail end of the convoy as it leaves “Town was probably just a place they felt safe going to.”
“D-do you think we might get more like that” Lunek says, at the back of the group.
“Who knows…” Santos sighs “But if human history applies anywhere here… This is just a sign of worse things to come”
[ [FIRST] [NEXT>]
And thus the omen passes by. Feelings, emotions of all sorts, without a plan or a reason other than just their own rage and distress.
Did any of these even know what they were doing? And how much worse can it be when they do?

JAPAN
12 April 1946 – surrender of Japan, brief premiership of Naruhiko Higashikuni (14 April to 9 June 1946), followed by Kijūrō Shidehara. Occupation mostly carried by US troops, but also Commonwealth zone (UK, Australia, Canada and New Zealand), led by Douglas MacArthur as the SCAP (Supreme Commander for the Allied Powers)
Situation is even way worse than in our reality thanks to all the destruction. First effort is gíve relief to the starving population. Even greater than in our reality are efforts to remove Hirohito (and it is impossible to imagine for the most of Allied leaders including Truman and Churchill to keep him on the throne after this brutal invasion), and despite opposition of MacArthur, Allies force the emperor to abdicate (and renounce divine status) in favour of regency headed by Takahito, (27 July 1946), when Akihito comes to age, he would become the Emperor. Hirohito’s abdication marks the beginning of Seika era, era of Emperor Akihito.
Hirohito is still given all possible protections against any trials for war crimes by MacArthur and is basically sent to comfortable retirement. Institution of monarchy is protected by Allies. Through 1946-1947 many westernisation reforms by MacArthur, based largely on FDR’s New Deal, as in our reality. April-May, political prisoners were released, and Communist Party of Japan was legalised and became politically active organising strikes. 10 February 1947 the first election with women suffrage, victory of Democratic Liberal Party headed by war criminal Hatoyama, who was eventually purged by Allied administration, so Shigeru Yoshida became new prime minister (22 March 1947).
By mid-1947 many officials connected to war crimes were purged, however since then, the course was reversed due to American need for the creation of a powerful Ally against the USSR and many regained power or at least avoided persecution. Through 1947 Americans wrote a new Japanese constitution (later in American myths it was MacArthur completely by himself), 3 August 1947 it was presented. Major shift from our reality is that Article 9, although considered, is not included in such sense as in our reality, it states only that “Aspiring sincerely to an international peace based on justice and order, the Japanese people forever renounce war as a sovereign right of the nation and the threat or use of force as means of settling international disputes” second part about demilitarisation is missing. Since summer 1947, US authorities adopt “Reverse Course” policies - aforementioned rehabilitation of officials, also protection of Zaibatsu (which Americans originally wanted to break-up and weaken), and reconstruction. Tokyo Trials 26 September 1946 to 12 January 1950 – MacArthur’s cover up of Japanese war crimes to a lesser extent, but it still does happen (including Unit 731). Taft also, like in Germany, attacks trials as “victor's justice”. From 25 December to 31 1950 Khabarovsk war crimes trials in the USSR about war criminals from Manchuria.
Persecution of growing Japanese communist movement starts. 1948-1951 “Red Purge”. Since March 1949 Dodge Line plan of right-wing economic reforms (cutting public spending, limiting public consumption, and reorienting industrial production in favour of export-oriented), also increase in unemployment and law against unions passed. In 1949 conflicts between communists and authorities escalated into many strikes, pro-communist politicians and officials began to be fired, after summer strike waves also purges of workers and academics. 1 July 1949 Japanese Self-Defence forces established – official remilitarisation. 23 October 1949 election, victory of DLP, electoral success of communists.
Peace Treaty with Japan
President Taft was eager to restore Japanese Independence – SCAP already transferred large amount of authority to Japanese trough 1949, secretary of the state William Richards Castle Jr took initiative. Despite Taft’s initial opposition to idea of continuous military presence, he is persuaded to keep limited number of stationed troops. Peace Treaty with Japan was scheduled after Treaty with Germany. Talks began in August 1950, however talks collapsed over China, despite at the time everyone recognised KMT, Soviets wanted PRC representatives to also attend. Other negotiations were called for January 1951, which resulted into calling for a Peace Conference with Japan in San Francisco analogous to the previous one with Germany. 6 March to 8 August 1951 San Francisco Conference, USSR and its allies boycotted them due to not including Chinese representatives. Despite Chinese and Soviets not being present, their interests were considered. Taiwan was ceded to China, Sakhalin, and Kuril Islands to USSR, unlike OTL Okinawa and more territories were already given back to Japan. Treaty was signed 8 August 1951, valid since 8 March 1952. Separate peace treaties were signed between Japan and ROC (30 January 1953), the Soviet Union and Korea “Vladivostok Treaties” 28 April 1952, these treaties recognised Soviet control over former Japanese territories and entitled Japan to pay reparations to Korea.
8 September 1951 U.S.-Japan Security Treaty was signed, which dictated Japan to accept continuous American military presence. This treaty caused a wave of resistance in Japan, uniting Japanese from right to left. Bloody May Day – over a million protestors in all of Japan, in Tokyo these protests escalated into violence and protests were massacred by police. 1 October 1952 election victory of Yoshida’s Liberal Party. 10 November 1952 coronation ceremony of Emperor Akihito, it marks symbolic beginning of new post-war Japan.
Philippines – 4 July 1947 United States gave official independence to Philippines and retained there many military bases (agreement from 1946 establishes bases for 99 years!) and the US still keeps a degree of political and economic dominance. 28 June 1946 Manuel Roxas became president of Philippines (still under US control then), communists were expelled from Congress despite being democratically elected – Hukbalahap Rebellion resumes (June 1946) and gained substantial strength, United States interferes and supports the government. On 15 April 1948 Roxas died of a heart attack; he was succeeded by vice-president Elpidio Quirino (re-elected in a fraudulent election 8 November 1949). Since the Taft Presidency, interests of Americans in Philippine affairs decreased, aid against Huks drained. President Quirino initiated major social reforms during his second term and attempted mostly useful land reform. 1950-1951 Huks successfully boosted their strength with seizing and keeping control over the centre of Laguna province – Santa Cruz. In 1952 Huks controlled sizable parts of the country and due to government corruption and brutality against rebels had also popular support. In 1951 they started to obtain massive support from China (from 1948 they were also backed by Korea).
Indonesia
Independence
As Japan surrendered, two days later on 14 April 1946 Indonesia (then with its majority under Japanese control) Indonesia declared independence, Sukarno became president and Hatta vice-president. Indonesians took advantage of the lack of established authority. Indonesia was occupied by Commonwealth forces (started in late May 1946). 27 June to 20 July 1946 a large battle between Indonesian and British forces – Battle of Surabaya, under significant losses results into a British victory. Churchill wanted to restore Dutch colonial rule and was ready to back them.
Important is Dutch reaction, Dutch government at the time was coalition between all parties formed after liberation by the Red Army in September 1945 (in wikibox there is 1946, another mistake overlook until I needed that), all parties with exception of CPN supported re-conquest of Indonesia, while communists wanted to grand them independence. CPN is vigorously opposed to continued colonisation and due to CPN securing second place in 1946 election and to lesser degree Soviet pressure on Dutch to recognise Indonesia, talks began in February 1947. Coincidentally with the December 1946 election there was a Malino Conference in which representatives of Dutch controlled territory backed the plan for creation of Dutch aligned federal states. 15 February 1947 Linggadjati Round Table Agreement is signed, in which Netherlands recognises Indonesian Republic controlled territory and both sides agree on formation of the Federal Republic of Indonesia (Republic, East Indonesia and Kalimantan) by 1 January 1948, FRI would newly formed Netherlands-Indonesian Union with the Dutch monarch as head. Similar agreement was reached in our reality but failed. In this timeline everything goes through, despite the fall of the Dutch coalition in summer 1947.
Federation
First Indonesian prime minister under Sutan Sjahrir (April to 3 December 1946), replaced by Amir Sjarifuddin, his cabinet included leftist forces, eventually even communists, who were instrumental in making agreement with the Netherlands (as part of the Dutch coalition were also communist negotiators). This cabinet stayed in power, avoiding real life events of the Madiun Affair. New government headed by Mohammad Hatta was formed after the creation of the federal republic. Creation of this republic was met with criticism from Islamists, who launched the Darul Islam rebellion led by Sekarmadji Maridjan Kartosoewirjo (7 August 1948). Overall, young Indonesia was a very unstable country. Anti-unitary forces attempted a failed coup in January 1950. Federation was not popular among Indonesians, so it was quickly dissolved and replaced with a unitary republic (14 April 1950). The Republic of South Maluku attempted to break away with Dutch support, however failed to do so.
Liberal Democratic Period (to 1952)
Newly declared Indonesian republic adopted its constitution and became a free parliamentary democracy. First government was a leftwing one again under Sjarifuddin, however eventually collapsed due to Indonesian National Party (12 October 1950, replaced by cabinet of Mohammad Natsir), but this government managed to pass electoral law, so first Indonesian legislative elections were held (29 September 1951), lot of parties ran and get seats – four largest were PNI (left wing nationalism), Masyumi (liberal Islamism), Nahdlatul Ulama (Islamism), PKI (communists) and PSI- Parsi (democratic socialism). Result was a right leaning coalition under Sidik Djojosukarto (PNI- Masyumi and several minor parties), in 1952 Indonesia officially left “Union” with Netherlands.
British Malaya
1 November 1946 British colonies were united into the “Malayan Union”, strengthening and centralising British control, stripping local sultans of their powers. This created another opposition movement under nationalist United Malays National Organisation, they applied massive resistance and did not participate in British institutions. Unlike OTL, during the Churchill years, there was no reform. In 1952 (1 February) it was transformed due to this massive and long resistance (and also due to large scale communist uprising) to Federation of Malaya, attempting to appease at least conservative nationalists.
Anti–British National Liberation War (early years)
Postwar economic turmoil, powerful communist organisation, brutal response of colonial authorities to strikers. Malaya was a key British source of resources, to pay for US debts (even way more rising in importance after Taft). 17 June 1948 Sungai Siput incident – revenge killing of plantation managers lead to massive British anti-communist arrests, and communists went into hiding. Also, the uprising in Burma (1947) also plays a role as another new motivation. February 1949 Malayan National Liberation Army under Chin Peng is formed (reformed from anti-Japanese resistance movement), MNLA has support of the population and is based in jungles and areas very hard to access for colonialists. Britain imposes very harsh repression against the population, leading to even more widespread support for MNLA. April 1950 “Briggs Plan” adopted forced deportations of ethnic Chinese to camps (up to half million people). The UK also uses Agent Orange (as the first country in the World), murders and tortures countless civilians, and destroys villages.
6 October 1951 British High Commissioner Henry Gurney survives MNLA ambush, this is actually damaging to the British as his replacement Gerald Templer was more competent in fighting with partisans. British forces are aided by other commonwealth nations. By 1953 the UK had problems dealing with communists and communists were stronger compared to our reality.
British Sarawak, North Borneo, Brunei
These territories were separated from Malaya in 1946. This was opposed by Malays but supported by the Chinese. Resistance by Malays culminated in assassination of Duncan Stewart. Small communist rebellion also started.
Thailand – After the war in June 1946 king Ananda Mahidol (Rama VIII) returned back to Thailand, however, was found shot dead on 26 March 1947 his death was blamed on prime minister Pridi Banomyong, who was forced to resign being replaced by Luang Thamrong.
In 1946 Thailand had to return territories to France. The 20 October 1946 election resulted in the victory of the People's Party, the first government was formed by Khuang Aphaiwong, he was however replaced by Pridi Banomyong after a lost vote of confidence (6 January 1947). Pridi was supportive of Vietnamese Independence, so he ended up being overthrown in a US backed coup (8 November 1947), this coup brough Plaek Pibulsonggram back to power. Military allied with royalists and Khuang Aphaiwong was appointed prime minister. New constitution gave back powers to Monarchythat were decreased in the 1932 revolution. To counter the power of royalist military and Pridi allied supporters, another coup was carried out on 6 April 1948, fully returning Plaek to power; he eventually secured power and foced Pridi into exile. Plaek attempted to fully secure power and destroy opposition, but due to lack of US support since 1949, he was eventually ousted by Pridi and his supporters (11 February 1949). New Direk Jayanama-led left-wing democratic government, managed to secure limited support of USSR and larger one of China (but also Britain due to their previous alliance with Allies) and tried to adopt non alignment foreign political stance. Internal political reforms – reduced power of monarchy, new legislature (in June 1950 democratic election), thanks popular policy of land reform government gained widespread support from the rural population. 29 November 1951 anti-Pridi parts of the military attempted a coup against him as returned from exile Plaek Phibunsongkhram, but eventually failed and Plaek was banished. In 1952 the government turned against conservative royalists and attempted to even further weaken the monarchy.
Vietnam
March Revolution 16 March to 15 April, Abdication of Emperor Bảo Đại (already before surrender of Japan because of fears of French invasion) -> creation of Vietnamese Democratic Republic. In late April North Vietnam was occupied by Chinese forces to accept the surrender of the Japanese. In March also general Leclerc arrives. Fontainebleau Agreements in mid-1946 between Vietnam and France, Vietnam as part of the French Union. With the return of France (November 1946) fighting erupted, war erupted in March 1947. By October France took over main population centres.To increase French support, State of Vietnam was created under emperor Bao Dai (2 August 1949) In 1950 Vietnam recognised by the soviet bloc. Same year the UK recognised the State of Vietnam. In late 1950 Viet Minh launched a successful offensive. In January 1951 de Tassigny was appointed to command, under his leadership France had limited military success. Hower financing the war became a major problem around this time. In March 1951 Viet Minh won in the crucial battle of Vĩnh Yên (17 March) and Viet Minh got close to Hanoi, but the French eventually managed to hold the city after heavy losses.
Change came in 1952 from Paris, talks started in February and eventually ceasefire was declared (28 February). Paris Conference – France officially recognised Democratic Republic of Vietnam, State of Vietnam was not invited as France and DRV both agreed that it was French colony (this was heavily criticised). End of war was also connected with referendum about future of Vietnam, if people support State of Vietnam in union with France or DRV. Referendum was held 14 June 1952 and resulted into landslide victory for Vietminh. Emperor abdicates and State of Vietnam dissolves, but some members of its military continue to resist DRV.
Newly independent Vietnam became a key ally for all of the socialist bloc in Asia and supported anti-colonial movements. In 1952 land reform began – often turned violent with execution of landlords. In 1953 the first five-year plan was launched, focusing on developing the country.
Laos – After the defeat of Japanese anti-colonial Lao Issara emerged. Lao monarch king Sisavang Vong however agreed with restoration of the French protectorate, Lao Issara with aid from China and Viet Minh attempted to resist re-imposition of French rule, however movement was weak and failed to do so and eventually dissolved itself in 1949. In January 1947 an agreement was signed that pledged France to give Laos autonomy inside the French Union. 1950 – Pathet Lao is formed and joins Viet Minh against French forces. In 1952 French officially withdrew from the country.
Cambodia – In 1946 king Norodom Sihanouk attempted to negotiate independence with the French, December 1946 election was held that resulted in victory of the left-wing Democratic party over conservative Liberal party. 23 October 1947 Democratic party dominated assembly passed a constitution modelled on the French one. After the death of Democratic party founder Sisowath Yuthevong, the party divided itself and cannot agree on a concrete program. In 1948 Cambodia was given autonomy by the French. After independence in April 1952, Democratic Party was largely boosted by this success. This avoided the fall of parliamentary democracy.
Ceylon (Sri Lanka)– Sri Lankan leaders led by Don Stephen Senanayake attempted to reach independence through negotiations. However, negotiations with secretary of colonies Oliver Stanley led only to self-governance and the British initially rejected granting Ceylon status of dominion. On 24 September 1947 Senanayake became the first prime minister of the newly formed Ceylonese government. In 1948 granting Dominion status to India led to demonstrations in Ceylon, Senanayake increased his pressure towards Britain. Eventually Ceylon was given the same status as India and Pakistan 4 February 1949. The Senanayake family had a lot of power, after the death of Senanayake (26 March 1952) his son Dudley was chosen by the British governor.
OCEANIA AND AMERICAS (Basically restating history with occasional minor changes, brief)
Australia – 5 July 1945 death of prime minister John Curtin, he was succeeded by Frank Forde until Labour elected Ben Chifley as its new leader. 28 October 1946 Labour government was re-elected against the emerging Liberal Party. His government was characterised by successful Keynesian social democratic politics, similar to later Attlee in UK, (social welfare, universal healthcare – in real life modelled after British one, this timeline it is vice versa, ie. The Chifley government serves as an example for Attlee elected in 1951) starting Australian postwar economic growth. Australia also supports migration to increase its population (Europeans due to the still existing “White Australia” policy). Left-wing policies, such as nationalisations, created opposition from capitalists and their conservative affiliates in politics and media. Criticism also comes from the left due to the government's anti-communism and breaking of strikes. 10 December 1949 Liberal prime minister Robert Menzies was elected. Anti-communism, in 1950 Communist party was banned, it was ruled unconstitutional. 28 April 1951 a new election, triggered the failure of the banking bill, still a victory for Liberals, however they weakened themselves with this move. In 1951 Menzies declared a referendum about banning communist parties and this timeline people agreed, leading to persecution of many communists, it was criticised as a major attack on freedom of political expression. Red Scare was similar to the US at the time, but pushed by Menzies' government. Liberal economic policies, this time taking inspiration from Taft.
New Zealand – 27 November 1946 election, victory of ruling Labour Party, Labour declined and lost popularity due to continuous post-war rationing and Fraser’s support for compulsory military service. 30 November 1949 National Party led by Sidney Holland was elected. The Legislation was changed from bicameral to unicameral, economic reforms, however the National government still supported the welfare state. Conflict with Unions, culminating into the waterfront dispute of 1951, the government responded harshly against workers with strong anti-union legislation, even outright criminalising support for them. 11 July 1951 the government was re-elected and gained more seats as a large part of the public supported their stance against workers, due to widespread anti-communism.
Oceania – “Trust Territory of the Pacific Islands” established in 1948 was originally controlled by the USA as OTL, but eventually transferred to the United Kingdom in 1950, as the US was not interested in its administration.
Canada – economic boom, social welfare Keynesian economic policies. 20 May 1946 first postwar election, victory of Liberals, however failed to obtain majority and had to rely on leftwing Co-operative Commonwealth, resulting in Canada building the strongest welfare state from Commonwealth states and becoming the most progressive one (and also becoming a major destination for European immigrants). On 15 November 1948 King retired and was succeeded by Louis St. Laurent, a French Canadian strongly opposed to communism. Due to this anti-communist however the ruling coalition collapsed, triggering snap election on 27 June 1949, which resulted in victory of Liberals, who yet again could form government without making coalitions. Shortly before the election, 31 March 1949 Canada united with NewFoundland. Canada took an important role while the US was absent in TATO.
Mexico – 1 December 1946 Miguel Alemán Valdés became president. Pro-business policies and industrialisation, development of infrastructure (dubbed Mexican miracle), however also corruption and elitism. Pro-American foreign policy. 1 December 1952 he was succeeded by Adolfo Ruiz Cortines, he was popular due to his strong stance against corruption and rapid economic development.
Guatemala – In 1944 the country was ruled by dictator Jorge Ubico, who was overthrown by a junta that was overthrown in a popular revolution (20 October 1944), 15 March 1945 Juan José Arévalo became the country's first democratically elected president, who introduced many reforms. He developed the political ideology of Arevalismo "spiritual socialism" -it can be considered a form of democratic socialism. 12 November 1950 Jacobo Árbenz was elected president, he continued the policies of Arévalo and was even more ambitious with his democratic socialist reforms. Largest one was Land Reform (17 June 1952) which greatly benefited hundred of thousands poor Guatemalan people especially indigenous ones, however made very angry American United Fruit Company that controlled majority of land and basically country itself, UFC began to lobby for his overthrown...
British Honduras – Rise of voice for independence and People's United Party
Honduras – Rule of pro American dictator Tiburcio Carías Andino, unlike OTL he did not gave power to his puppets and continued to rule the country directly. Rise of discounted with his regime, even greater due any reforms instituted by his successor Juan Manuel Gálvez were not passed.
El Salvador – Authoritarian rule of Salvador Castaneda Castro (1945-1948), suppression of strikes and opposition, eventually he was deposed by military coup (14.12.1948), after rule of military, Óscar Osorio was appointed president (14.9.1950), he instituted some social reforms, but continued corrupt regime and persecution of opposition.
Nicaragua – Dictatorial rule of pro-American Somoza dynasty. 1947-1950 figurehead presidency of Leonardo Argüello Barreto (after Truman’s pressure for liberalisation).
Costa Rica – 12 March – 24 April 1948 civil war, after an attempt to annul victory of opposition candidate José Figueres Ferrer in election, it ultimately led to victory of rebels with US help. José Figueres Ferrer became provisional president. and pushed many important reforms: abolished the military, gave women suffrage, welfare, nationalisations of banks and also outlawed communist party. 1949-1953 presidency of Otilio Ulate Blanco that upheld these reforms.
Panama – pro-American parliamentary democracy dominated by oligarchy.
Colombia – 9 April 1948 popular democratic socialist presidential candidate of the Liberal Party Jorge Eliécer Gaitán was assassinated. This triggered the “La Violencia” (1948-1958) period of massive unrest between the left and the right, over 200 000 died, at the start of the Colombian conflict. On 9 November 1949 Liberal opposition attempted to impeach president Ospina Pérez, he dissolved Congress, creating a presidential dictatorship. Liberal leaders launched an uprising in rural areas (originally it was intended to be a military coup, that however in real life did not take place and here took place and failed). 7 August 1950 new Conservative dictatorial president Laureano Gómez Castro, admirer of Franco, suffered a major heart attack and power was transferred to Roberto Urdaneta Arbeláez in 1951.
Venezuela – 18 October 1945 military coup that brought democracy to Venezuela (October 1946 and December 1947 democratic elections) under president Rómulo Betancourt. The 1940s economy also boomed thanks to oil. However, on 24 November 1948, the military staged a coup and Marcos Pérez Jiménez became dictator, under his oppressive regime there was great economic development, and he was close to the US.
Ecuador – President José María Velasco Ibarra was ousted in military coup (23 August 1947), 1947-1948 unstable country was ruled by military Carlos Mancheno Cajas, eventually military gave power to former vice-president Mariano Suárez Veintimilla, who gave his powers to Congress that elected Carlos Julio Arosemena Tola (31 August 1947). His presidency was strongly allied with the United States. 1 September 1948 Galo Plaza, another strongly pro-American figure, became the next president. He supported technocratic approach, democracy and was very open to foreign (mostly American) influence, exporting bananas to America. 1 June 1952 José María Velasco Ibarra (former deposed president, established politician and Ecuadorian nationalist) won election and became president for third term, his term was stable and brought progress, mostly in great development of infrastructure.
Brazil – Fourth Brazilian Republic, president Eurico Gaspar Dutra (1946-1951). Close relations with the US, liberal economic policy. 31 January 1951 Vargas returned after victory in the 3 October 1950 election. Keynesian economic policy, 1953 creation of PETROBRAS. Rua Tonelero shooting an assassination attempt on leading opposition member Carlos Lacerda (5August 1954) blamed on Vargas by opposition in a strong campaign, 24 August 1954 he committed suicide.
Perú – 1945 leftwing president José Luis Bustamante y Rivero, restoration of democracy. 29 October 1948 military seized power in a coup after murder of a prominent right-wing editor. Manuel Odría's regime strongly persecuted leftwing APRA, supported powerful oligarchy and gained favour of people thanks to populist rhetoric and policies.
Bolivia – 1947 to 1949 rule of Enrique Hertzog, conservative American aligned government. Economy in a terrible state, social unrest and intensified class struggle. Dominant opposition group was Nationalist Revolutionary Movement (MRN) with a program of nationalisations and land reform. Next president Mamerto Urriolagoitía installed military rule (16 May 1951) under Hugo Ballivián. 9 April 1952 Bolivian National Revolution overthrew the junta. Víctor Paz Estenssoro became president. Many left-wing and democratic reforms transformed the country: universal suffrage, nationalisation of mining, large land reform (however created farms were eventually again taken over by large landowners), great influence of trade unions and workers.
Paraguay – Dictator Higinio Morínigo was pushed by the US to liberalise his regime, he legalised political parties and formed a coalition between Colorado and Febreristas. Later ones resigned from the government (11 January 1947) and united with opposition forces (Liberals and Communists) and attempted to topple his regime starting a civil war (7 March – 20 August 1947), despite opposition having popular support, and the government was saved by the US and Argentina. All parties with exception of Colorado were banned and the country became one party state. 16 August 1948 leader of Colorado Juan Natalicio González was elected president. He promoted nationalist policies; several American companies were nationalised. Due to American non-interventionism, three attempted coups against the president failed due to lack of any outside support. In other ways Paraguay was a stable country during his presidency.
Uruguay – functioning democracy, dominance of liberal Colorado party. Presidents: Juan José de Amézaga (1943-1947) – social reforms, economic stability and growth. Tomás Berreta (1947) died in office, Luis Batlle Berres (1947-1951) continued social and leftwing economic reforms.
Chile – Democratic presidential republic. September 1946 presidential election, Gabriel González Videla (Radical) elected. During his presidency many communist strikes, under US pressure Videla passed “Permanent Defense of Democracy Law” (8.9.1948) that banned the communist party, many imprisoned, strikes brutally suppressed, relations with socialist bloc broken. Radicals created alliance with Liberals and Conservatives. 4 September 1952 resulted in the victory of former president nationalist general Carlos Ibáñez del Campo. He repealed the ban on communists and also gained support from the left.
Argentina – Peron and Peronism. Nationalism, populism, social welfare, improvement of working conditions, development of local industry, growing power of the trade unions, authoritarian rule and persecution of opposition etc. Non-aligned foreign policy stance. 26 July 1952 death of Eva Peron.
Cuba – Presidents Ramón Grau (44-48) and Carlos Prío Socarrás (48-52) of left-wing nationalist Partido Auténtico. 10.3.1952 democracy overthrown by Batista’s coup. Pro-American authoritarian regime, serving interests of American elites owning majority of the county.
Haiti – 1946 revolution (11.1) – military seized power and new National Assembly was elected, Dumarsais Estimé became president (16 August 1946 to 10 May 1950), attempts of reforms, focused on expanding education, expansion of worker’s rights, creation of social security system (no passed), major nationalisations. His presidency was marked by growth and economic development. In foreign policy he was allied towards the US. After he tried to extend his time in office, he was removed by the military. General Paul Magloire became new president, he was elected president in 1950 first direct election.
Dominican Republic – Totalitarian far-right dictatorship of Rafael Trujillo. Ally of the US.
INDEPENDENT STATES IN AFRICA
Ethiopia – Emperor Haile Selassie. 15 September 1952 Federation Between Ethiopia and Eritrea formed.
Liberia – US aligned. President William Tubman (1944-1971), stable period.
South Africa – 26 May 1948 Reunited National Party won election. Daniël François Malan became prime minister, 1948-1953 apartheid instituted.
Colonial Africa would be addressed in the next part (since there aren’t too much events 1946-1952, 1953 to 1956 is extremely eventful on the other hand) North Africa covered in another post

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.)

In the early 19th century, in the rural town of Palmyra, New York, a young man named Joseph Smith was born into a family of humble means. Joseph grew up in a community deeply influenced by religious revivalism, where fervent preaching and spiritual fervor were commonplace.

Childhood Dreams and Ambitions

As a boy, Joseph was known for his lively imagination and insatiable curiosity. He was drawn to the stories of ancient civilizations and prophets found in the Bible, and he spent many hours poring over its pages, captivated by tales of divine intervention and spiritual revelation.

Adolescence: Struggles and Ambitions

As Joseph entered adolescence, he grappled with the challenges of growing up in a family facing financial hardship. Despite his struggles, he possessed an entrepreneurial spirit and a keen eye for opportunity. He dabbled in various ventures, from treasure hunting to glass-looking, seeking to improve his family's fortunes.

The Entrepreneurial Spirit

As Joseph grew older, he developed a reputation as a skilled storyteller and a charismatic leader. He was known for his ability to spin elaborate stories and captivate his audience with tales of adventure and intrigue. Yet, beneath his charming exterior lay a shrewd businessman, always on the lookout for opportunities to turn a profit.

The Quest for Spiritual Truth

Joseph, became increasingly disillusioned with the religious practices of his time. He yearned for a deeper, more authentic connection with the divine—a connection that transcended the confines of traditional religion and dogma.

The Quest for Wealth and Fame

Driven by a desire for wealth and recognition, Joseph concocted a plan to create a spectacle that would capture the imagination of the masses. Drawing inspiration from the religious fervor of the time, he devised a scheme to fabricate a set of golden plates inscribed with ancient writings, which he may have believed was inspired and coming from a divine revelation from God in order to save his family's financial problems.

The Angel Moroni and the Manufactured Plates: A Bold Plan Unfolds

Several years later, in 1823, Joseph invented his extraordinary encounter—this time with an angel named Moroni or Nephi. According to his account, Moroni/Nephi revealed the location of a hidden treasure: a set of golden plates inscribed with ancient writings. Inspired by this divine revelation, Joseph embarked on a bold plan to manufacture the plates himself.

The First Vision: A Turning Point

In the spring of around 1834 or 1835, as a young man of his time, Joseph claimed to have experienced a profound vision that would alter the course of his life forever. While concerned for his own salvation, he retired to the "silent grove" near his home, he reported seeing a pillar of light descending from heaven, followed by the appearance of God. This transformative experience marked the beginning of Joseph's spiritual journey and his quest for religious truth.

The Creation of the Book

With the help of a few confidants and collaborators, Joseph set to work crafting the narrative of what would become known as the Book of Mormon. Drawing from his own experiences and the rich tapestry of religious beliefs swirling around him, he wove together a tale of ancient civilizations, divine intervention, and redemption.

The Translation Process: From Plates to Pages

Over the course of several years, Joseph devoted himself to the task of what would be considered the translation of the contents from golden plates. With the aid of divine inspiration and the assistance of scribes, he produced what would become known as the Book of Mormon—a narrative of ancient American civilizations and their interactions with God. Produced by the gift and power of God, which we can now speculate is the Imaginative mind of mankind.

The Book of Mormon: A Work of Creativity and Imagination

While Joseph claimed that the Book of Mormon was a translation of ancient records, it is suggested that it was product of his own creative imagination. Drawing from his deep knowledge of the Bible and the religious beliefs of his time, Joseph crafted a narrative that spoke to the spiritual yearnings and questions of his contemporaries.

The Use of Deception: A Means to an End

Critics have accused Joseph of using deception and fraud to promote his religious teachings. However, proponents argue that Joseph's use of deception was motivated by a desire to inspire faith and belief in his followers. Much like the magic feather in the story of Dumbo, Joseph may have seen deception as a necessary tool to capture the imagination of the masses and lead them to a deeper understanding of spiritual truth.

The Growth of a Movement: Trials and Triumphs

Despite facing persecution and opposition from mainstream society, the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints continued to grow and expand throughout the 19th century. Missionaries were sent out to preach the gospel, converts were baptized, and new congregations were established across the United States and beyond.

Legacy and Impact: A Story of Faith and Resilience

The story of Joseph Smith and the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints is a testament to the power of faith, resilience, and human creativity. Whether viewed as a divine revelation or a product of Joseph's imagination, the Book of Mormon continues to inspire millions of believers around the world and remains a cornerstone of LDS theology and doctrine.
🪶 Just as Dumbo faced a crisis of faith when he lost his magic feather, many of us may encounter similar challenges in our spiritual journey. It's crucial to realize that the truth resides within ourselves all along, and the institutional church serves as a guide or facilitator to help us recognize our inner strength and connection to divinity from within.
In this analogy, the church transforms into a symbol of the collective wisdom and guidance passed down through generations, shaping society and our personal beliefs. Similarly, the magic feather, once believed to be a source of power and belief for Dumbo, evolves into a symbol of personal identity and significance. Instead of clinging to it for its perceived magical properties, Dumbo now holds onto it because of what it represents to him—a reminder of his own capabilities and the journey he has undertaken.
Just as Dumbo discovers his ability to fly without the aid of the magic feather, we too can find empowerment and enlightenment within ourselves, independent of external institutions or symbols. Our faith journey becomes a quest for self-discovery and personal growth, guided by the lessons and experiences provided by the church and our own inner wisdom.

This post contains spoilers from CS1-Reverie, including Reverie’s post-game content.
Disclaimer: The analysis portion of the Background section contains discussion of mental illness. I am not an expert in mental health, or any health field for that matter. I’m just a guy applying his own perception, lived experiences, and surface-level knowledge to interpreting Rean’s arc. I probably don’t even need to be making this disclaimer, but I felt like it.
Last year, I made this post asking how the members of this sub felt about Cold Steel’s protagonist: the one and only Rean Schwarzer. I was pleasantly surprised by the amount of engagement it got, as well as the diversity of opinion expressed in the comments. There were those who loved him, those who were neutral on him, and a few who just couldn’t stand him. At the time, I had just finished CS2, so there was a ton about Rean I wasn’t privy to. However, now that I’ve played Reverie and am fully caught up with the first half of the series, I have a much fuller picture of him. Since so many of you were kind enough to offer up your takes on Rean back then, I figured I’d express my own thoughts on him in the form of a proper analysis. Without further ado, let’s begin!

Background

Rean Schwarzer (born Rean Osborne) is the main protagonist of Trails of Cold Steel I, II, III, and IV, as well as one of the three main protagonists of Trails into Reverie. He was born in S.1187 to Erebonian commoners Brigadier General Giliath and Kasia Osborne. Rean’s father was a brilliant leader and strategist, but his commoner status made him an enemy of the military’s nobles. This led to Giliath’s home being attacked by jaegers when Rean was five, resulting in Kasia’s death and Rean’s heart being punctured by shrapnel. In a desperate bid to save his son’s life, Giliath made a deal with Ishmelga, the Ebon Knight, to become its Awakener and used its power to transplant his own heart into Rean’s body. Due to his deal with Ishmelga, Giliath was forced to give up custody of Rean, entrusting him to the care of Baron Teo Schwarzer. As a result, “Rean Osborne,” the son of a commoner military officer, became “Rean Schwarzer,” the adopted son of a minor noble family.
Although Rean’s new family was loving and supportive, his new life was not without struggle. The boy’s sudden, mysterious appearance in the Schwarzer household made the family - particularly Teo - the subject of gossip and controversy among other nobles. Some believed Rean was Teo’s illegitimate child, while others openly lambasted Teo for his willingness to potentially allow a commoner into the nobility’s ranks. Teo essentially became an outcast among his noble peers, his family’s name tarnished by rumor. Rean, for his part, came to believe he was at fault for this situation, and the subsequent guilt would plague him for many years.
Rean’s self-worth was further challenged by another, more personal problem that arose during his childhood. At age nine, Rean watched an unknown monster attack his younger sister, Elise, and the stress caused an innate “ogre power” within him to manifest. Rean fell into a blind rage, savagely killing the monster. When he returned to his senses, Rean was traumatized by the scene he had left behind, and by the discovery of this new, violent side of him he could not control.
Two years later, Rean became an apprentice of the legendary swordsman Yun Ka-fai, founder of the Eight Leaves One Blade school, hoping to learn how to control his ogre powers. Despite showing great promise as a swordsman, Rean was unable to develop control over his ogre power, and Yun was eventually forced to cut short Rean’s training for unrelated reasons. Although the beginner-rank Rean continued to train on his own, the damage to his psyche was too deep-seated for him to fix alone. He believed he was nothing but a burden and a monster, undeserving of love or happiness. This guilt and self-loathing spurred him to always put others’ needs and well-being above his own, believing himself less important than anyone else. This self-sacrificial behavior became a recurring problem for Rean over the course of his adolescence and early adulthood.
In S.1204, at age 17, Rean enrolled at the prestigious Thors Military Academy in eastern Erebonia. He, along with eight others, became part of Class VII, Thors’s first socially integrated graduating class. Although he still struggled with low self-worth, Rean thrived in this new environment, quickly befriending his classmates and discovering his natural-born ability as a leader. By this time, Rean’s real father, Giliath Osborne, had become Chancellor of Erebonia and was being targeted for death by the Imperial Liberation Front - an anti-Osborne terrorist group. The ILF was a recurring presence in Class VII’s lives during their first school year, and the two groups clashed frequently. At the end of the year, Rean’s life took a dramatic turn when he unexpectedly became the Awakener for the Divine Knight Valimar before watching the ILF - led by his friend Crow Armbrust - seemingly assassinate Osborne and spark a nationwide civil war. Thors came under siege by Crow shortly thereafter, and in the chaos, Rean was forcibly separated from his classmates.
One month later, Rean awoke in the Eisengard Mountain Range outside his adopted hometown, Ymir. Now armed with Valimar’s power, Rean rendezvoused with his family and set out to reunite Class VII. Although he succeeded, Rean was later captured by the Noble Alliance and was held captive alongside Erebonian princess Alfin Reise Arnor. With Alfin’s encouragement, Rean freed the two of them using his ogre powers and rejoined Class VII onboard the imperial family’s airship Courageous. Thanks to Alfin and his bond with his classmates, Rean learned to stop fearing his ogre powers and started opening up more to those closest to him. Using the Courageous, Class VII successfully led a mission to retake Thors before ultimately confronting the Noble Alliance’s leader, Duke Cayenne, and stopping his plan to use the Infernal Castle to win the war. At the same time, new drama entered Rean’s life: Shortly after stopping Duke Cayenne’s plan, Crow unexpectedly died and Osborne was revealed to still be alive - and Rean’s real father. Rean, for his part, was formally recognized by the imperial government for his role in ending the war and became a national hero. This was, however, merely a ploy to pressure Rean into obeying Osborne’s wishes, and it succeeded, as Rean subsequently became an operative in Erebonia’s conquest of Crossbell. It was during this time that he became acquainted with Crossbell Special Support Section leader Lloyd Bannings.After Crossbell’s annexation, Rean fought in the Northern War, which resulted in Erebonia annexing North Ambria. He partook in the siege of Haliask, where he fought archaisms using Valimar. During this stretch of the war, Rean lost control of his ogre powers and was rendered unconscious for three days. As a result, he once again lost faith in his ability to control himself, and swore off the use of his ogre power.
In April S.1206, roughly 1.5 years after the civil war’s end, Rean started a job as instructor of a “new Class VII” at Thors’s new branch campus in western Erebonia. At the branch campus, Rean bonded with his students and fellow faculty while also taking on assignments from the imperial government. It was also during this time that Osborne’s plan to trigger the Great Twilight started unfolding, causing Rean, his students, and his comrades to regularly butt heads with jaegers, Ouroboros, and powerful cryptids. Ultimately, however, Osborne outmaneuvered all attempts by Rean, Olivert, and others to stop him; the Courageous was destroyed by a bomb with Olivert still onboard, Rean’s forces were spread thin through various battles, and Rean himself was forced to watch as Millium Orion was killed and turned into a Sword of the End. Finally at his wit’s end, Rean suffered a mental breakdown and was consumed by his ogre powers, causing him to violently trigger the Great Twilight himself before being taken captive by Osborne and Ishmelga.
After a short period of captivity, Rean was freed by Class VII and their allies. He, along with the SSS and the Liberl Bracer Guild, declined to become part of Musse Egret’s Operation Mille Mirage, instead choosing to oppose Osborne their own way. Rean, as Valimar’s Awakener, decided to partake in the Rivalries to reform the Great One, in hopes of defeating Ishmelga’s curse. He gradually defeated and absorbed power from the other Awakeners until, finally, during Operation Jormungandr, he defeated Osborne and Ishmelga, becoming the pilot of a corrupted Great One. It is at this time when two different futures unfolded: In one, Rean flew the Great One beyond Zemuria’s atmosphere to remove Ishmelga from the continent. In the other, Rean used the power of the Holy Beast of Earth to give Ishmelga’s curse a corporeal form, allowing him and his friends to destroy it. It was this latter future that became Zemuria’s reality, while the former remained hypothetical and unrealized.
Many months after Ishmelga’s defeat, in S.1207, Rean became involved in the incident involving Crossbell and Elysium. While combating enemy forces in the Nord Highlands, Rean started undergoing assimilation with Ishmelga-Rean, an alternate version of himself created by Elysium based on the unrealized timeline from when Ishmelga was first beaten. Later, during the final confrontation with Ishmelga-Rean, the real Rean saw visions of his other self’s sacrifice and finally grasped the devastating effects his past martyr-like behavior had on those he loved. He vowed to make a change before eliminating Ishmelga-Rean, stopping the assimilation.
Sometime after the clash with Elysium, Rean visited Longlai in eastern Calvard with his family, secretly hoping to track down Yun while there. Instead, he encountered members of the Ikaruga jaeger corps, who informed him that Yun was not in Longlai before departing. Rean has since contented himself with his current life as a Thors instructor, sensing that the next incident to befall Zemuria will involve not him, but an entirely different group of heroes.
Analysis: From even a cursory glance at Rean’s story, it is clear he endured much distress and trauma at a young age, and in my view, the result was deep-seated mental illness - namely depression. I am not a psychologist, but I would wager that the violent manner in which his five year-old self lost his home, his mother, and, almost, his own life, was horrific enough for his mind to block all memory of that period as a defense mechanism. This would help explain how Rean did not remember his real parentage until his encounter with Osborne in CS2 jogged his memory. Further stressing Rean were the controversies surrounding his adoption, which were not at all his fault but still interpreted as such by him, and the sudden, gory manner in which he learned of his ogre power. With such a potent combination of stressors burdening his young mind, it is no surprise to me that it took Rean such a long time to overcome his feelings of guilt and worthlessness. He was saddled with depression during the most formative period of his life, and like any mental illness, depression cannot be overcome with just one or two instances of positive reinforcement. It is often something people have to live with for many years, with periods of relative difficulty and relative ease. Looking at it this way, it makes sense for Rean’s arc to have taken as long as it did.
Side note: Obviously, Rean’s story is not the most realistic depiction of depression in fiction, but the manner in which it unfolds and is presented is still enough for me to take it seriously as a journey of struggling with mental health. When Rean receives support or encouragement from his friends and family, it helps in the short-term, but does little to erode the larger problem because that simply isn’t enough. Further, Rean’s progress is not linear, but is marked with occasional setbacks: In CS2, he finally learns to stop fearing his ogre power, but in CS3, we see that he is still vulnerable to losing control of it, and he does so during the Northern War and in the finale of that game. He receives a pendant (“meds?”) and training (“therapy?”) to control said power in CS3, but he still struggles with it. In CS4’s “bad” ending, even after everything he has gone through, Rean falls back into his old habits of self-sacrifice, because that’s how “baked-in” his problems are; he doesn’t even see the issue because he’s lived that way for so long. It is CS3’s finale that is the most striking part of Rean’s journey to me: In my eyes, it is the same as Rean having a mental breakdown, too overcome by his own emotional turmoil to control himself. He becomes consumed by his own demons, literally and figuratively, and it takes the collective effort of his loved ones in CS4 to bring him back to stability.
It is also fitting that Rean’s big turning point - the moment in Reverie where he sees the pain his martyr-esque behavior causes others - is as dramatic as the instances that facilitated Rean’s internal struggle to begin with. What I particularly appreciate about this chunk of Rean’s arc is that it is presented as Rean finally realizing the change he needs to make, rather than him being instantly cured of his ailments. It is simply him resolving to change his outlook on himself and his relationships, and that feels more grounded to me than any alternative route the writers could have taken.

Personality

Rean is a kind, courageous, selfless individual who greatly cares about those around him. Despite his own low self-esteem, he is a gifted speaker and possesses the spirit of a natural-born leader. It is this charisma that quickly made him the de facto leader of Class VII, as he often served as an intermediary for the interpersonal clashes between his other classmates (see: Machias/Jusis and Fie/Laura). He often goes out of his way to help his peers solve problems or make their lives easier. This behavior is propelled by his own feelings of worthlessness, which causes his generosity to often escalate to self-sacrificial activity. On the occasions when Rean is unable to help someone, he often feels guilty, even if the problem at hand was not his fault or was out of his control (examples include his inability to stop Vulcan and Crow from dying in CS2).
Rean is also extraordinarily perceptive thanks to his Unclouded Eye technique, which he learned from Yun Ka-fai. This allows him to set aside any preconceived notions or prejudices he may have and accurately discern a person’s true nature. His training also allows him to notice things others may not, such as objects moving at high speed or unseen people/creatures in his vicinity. At the same time, there are things he struggles to pick up on, namely when it comes to others’ feelings regarding him. Rean often fumbles when it comes to romantic/intimate interactions with the girls in his life, either unintentionally flustering them or failing to understand how deep their feelings run. Rean also fails to understand how his martyr behavior hurts those he cares about, despite numerous incidents ending with people refusing to abandon him and calling him out for perceived recklessness.
Analysis: One thing I’ve always appreciated about Rean is that, despite his serious personal problems, he never comes off as whiny, annoying, cringe, etc. He knows how to compartmentalize and portray an air of confidence and amicability; I would attribute this to his noble upbringing, as we see similar behavior in other noble characters like Laura and Jusis. His natural ability as a speaker and leader are reminiscent of Osborne’s, as is his penchant for self-sacrificial behavior; Osborne was, after all, willing to bond with Ishmelga, literally give his heart to his son, and turn himself into a villain for the sake of his people.
There are considerable differences between Rean and the three protagonists who preceded him. He is almost the antithesis of Estelle: She is lively, spontaneous, and unafraid to open up to others emotionally, Rean is more reserved and measured, and is initially guarded, though he does learn to express himself over time. While he does share similar backstory details to Kevin, their outward personalities are starkly different, with Kevin being suave and laid-back and Rean being more serious and passive. As for Lloyd, while Rean does share his kindness, perception, and leadership ability, the two do have their differences as well. Lloyd’s arc is about starting from nothing and overcoming barriers, gaining strength along the way. He is driven by a commitment to justice and a zealous patriotic spirit. Rean, on the other hand, starts out with great power at a young age but struggles to control it, making his journey more internal and personal than Lloyd’s. Additionally, his fighting spirit comes not from burning passion, but from steely nerve and trust in his companions. And, of course, he is not morally gray like his successor, Van.

Relationships

Due to the sheer number of people Rean becomes involved with, I will only address his more notable relationships. Many will be in clusters, with only a select few individuals receiving their own entries.

• Old Class VII: Old Class VII is Rean’s core friend group through the entire Cold Steel arc. They are the ones who fight by his side during the arc’s major events, including the Erebonian civil war, the Great Twilight, and more. Although Emma Millstein was class president during their student years, Rean gradually becomes Old Class VII’s’ de facto leader in the field due to his good rapport with all its members and his role in helping them bond with each other. By the end of CS1, he is very much the proverbial glue that holds Old Class VII together, and Rean executes this role flawlessly in CS2 by bringing their scattered members back together again. Despite his love for his classmates, Rean largely hesitates to seek them out for emotional support due to his low self-worth, and it isn’t until he sees their heartbroken reactions to his “death” in Reverie when he realizes how much he means to them.
• New Class VII: Rean is New Class VII’s teacher at Thors’s branch campus starting in CS3. Over the course of the game and its sequels, he forms a unique bond with each of his five students: A father-like figure for Altina, a tough-love mentor for Ash, a source of confidence for Kurt, a role model for Juna and… uh… maybe I shouldn’t discuss Musse. Anyway, the wisdom Rean imparts on New Class VII helps them all mature into capable young adults, particularly Juna, who essentially fills Rean’s shoes in CS4 Chapter 1 and leads the charge to rescue him from Osborne.
• Schwarzer family: Rean’s adopted parents and sister. Rean cares deeply about the Schwarzers, to the point where seeing them being physically threatened causes his ogre powers to manifest uncontrollably in CS1-2. At the same time, despite having the Schwarzer’s unconditional love and support, Rean feels like a significant burden to them for much of his young life, particularly to Teo. This matter is eventually settled by the end of CS2. There is also the matter of Elise, his younger sister, who develops feelings for him as they age (writing that did not sit well with me at all, but the show must go on…). Rean, for his part, is exceptionally protective of Elise until she finally rebuffs this part of him in Reverie, arguing that she is strong enough to take care of herself.
• Crow Armbrust: If any one member of Class VII, new or old, deserves an individual mention, it is unquestionably Crow. Crow and Rean share a unique, dynamic relationship that evolves considerably over the four Cold Steel games. In the beginning, Crow is Rean’s rival and superior in many ways. He is older, more cunning, and a stronger Awakener than Rean (at least when piloting Ordine). But over time, Rean gains strength and confidence, which allows him to beat Crow in CS2, and then defeat him again in CS4, at which point he essentially becomes Crow's lord and retainer by sparing his life.
  • The two are very much foils for one another, with similarities and differences: Both are young men who are descended from political leaders (who were themselves bitter enemies). Both are Awakeners guided by witches - Crow by the mighty Vita and Rean by the fledgling Emma and Celine. At the same time they are almost total opposites as people, with Crow being cocky, deceptive, and rebellious, while Rean is modest, honest, and upstanding. Even their hair colors contrast! In that sense, Crow also serves as a benchmark for Rean's growth, as their relationship roles essentially switch in CS4, with Rean gaining dominance over Crow.
• Yun Ka-fai: Because there is still much mystery surrounding Yun Ka-fai, it is difficult to dissect him in the context of this write-up. However, we do know that Rean was Yun's last discipline - the last of four. Rean also receives correspondence from Yun at various points in the story, largely to give life updates and confer higher ranks onto Rean (Is this the Trails equivalent of Zoom classes? No, wait, they have actual tech for that…). From the content of his letters, Yun seems to think highly of Rean as both a person and a swordsman. Despite not being present for Rean's final few years of training, Yun understands Rean's journey intimately, to the point where he feels comfortable making Rean a Divine Blade through a proxy in CS4. This begs questions: How does Yun know so much? Does he possess some form of the Unclouded Eye that lets him detect such things in his students? Is he basically Yoda? Or is someone watching Rean on Yun's behalf? Furthermore, in his letter to Rean in CS3, he says he will impart his final teachings onto Rean “when” they meet again. This might be reading too much into it, but Yun seems quite confident he will see Rean again. My guess is that Yun has something planned, if not for Rean, then for all of his disciples. And I suspect that that plan was part of why Yun chose to promote Rean to Divine Blade when he did. The timing, right before the final battle at the Duatha de Danann, is too convenient for me to ignore. Either Yun wanted to help Rean reach peak form in time, or he had some other motive. Or both.
• Giliath Osborne: Osborne is Rean's biological father. Despite coming off as callous at first, it becomes clear in CS4 and Reverie that Osborne truly loved his son and was willing to sacrifice everything for him, including his heart (literally) and his humanity. Rean inherited a number of traits from Osborne, including his charisma, leadership ability, flawed selflessness, and strength of spirit. The two share an innate need to put others’ happiness over their own, albeit for different reasons, and both suffered in silence for years because of it. This is part of why, despite having the same goal, Rean and Osborne both fought each other with all they had during the final Rivalry: Neither wanted to see the other inherit the curse's full power, Osborne because he didn't want to see Rean suffer any longer and Rean because he essentially accepted that he was the curse's Sacrifice. After CS4, Rean learns more about Osborne's inner thoughts and motives, developing a deep admiration for his father and a desire to make his sacrifice worthwhile.
• Lloyd Bannings: Lloyd and Rean are quite comparable. They are the main protagonists of their respective arcs, both are leaders in their own right, both embody aspects of the “dense male protagonist” trope, and both are overall kind, perceptive (outside of romance), overall heroic young men. But like Crow, Lloyd is a foil for Rean, and this is apparent from their very first meeting, in CS2's Divertissement. Lloyd and Rean's circumstances were polar opposites: Lloyd was a vigilante, relegated to the shadows, with only a skeleton crew for support, while Rean was an Erebonian national hero with a Divine Knight and the full power of his country behind him. At the same time, Rean had no agency during this time, as he had been manipulated by Osborne into accepting such status and becoming part of a reprehensible operation. Lloyd, on the other hand, was a free agent, uncompromising in his ideals and fighting tirelessly for true justice. In short, Lloyd was powerless but free, while Rean was powerful but trapped. In that moment, it is obvious that Rean respected Lloyd's convictions and may have even envied him. Fortunately for the two, they find themselves on the same side in CS4 and a proper friendship between the two forms.
• Patrick Hyarms: Patrick and Rean’s relationship had an uneasy start. Although Patrick initially tried to ingratiate himself with Rean, he was rebuffed due to his elitist attitude towards commoners and other non-nobles. Patrick was quick to change his disposition towards Rean, treating him with disgust due to his unknown origins and lack of noble blood. After being humiliated by Rean and the other non-noble men of Class VII, Patrick starts to reassess his mindset and eventually becomes more accepting of non-nobles. This, in turn, leads to Rean and Patrick becoming friends, and in CS3, the two are shown to be trusted partners in certain areas. The friendship is somewhat complicated by Patrick’s romantic interest in Elise, of whom Rean is especially protective.

Future

As a main series protagonist, Rean is basically guaranteed to return in a future game. Whether or not he will be playable or have a significant role in said game is difficult to ascertain, but given his lengthy period of stardom in the Cold Steel games and Trails’s treatment of other past protagonists, my guess is that he will take more of a side role. Since Rean was looking for Yun Ka-fai after Reverie, and Yun is set to appear in Kai no Kiseki, I wouldn’t be surprised to see Rean in that game at all - at least in flashback form. Failing that, Rean will surely appear in or close to the series finale. Of this I am certain.

Misc. Notes/Commentary

• Funnily enough, Rean’s final struggle with his powers in CS3-4 reminds me somewhat of the finale of Steven Universe Future, which similarly ends with the protagonist losing control of his powers and turning into a raging monster. It is only through the love and reassurance of Steven’s friends and family that he is able to return to normal, and like Rean, he is not necessarily “cured” of anything; he simply has a newfound resolve to get better.
• For those curious: I did not include discussion of Rean’s “harem” in this analysis because I do not see it as a core part of his character. The dating sim aspect of the Cold Steel games is just a silly fanservice gimmick and has no bearing on Rean’s growth or development. While it might have indirectly limited the interpersonal relationships the female characters of CS could form with other males, it did not have a similar effect on Rean.
  • Ftr, I romanced Alisa in CS2 and Sara in CS4.
• Rean’s two big “power of friendship” moments in the series - unlocking Spirit Unification in CS2’s Intermission and snapping out of his ogre rage in CS4’s Fragments chapter - both involve him being faced with a golden crystal which symbolizes his many loving relationships. This is a minor detail, but I do appreciate the parallels at work here.

“Leaving is not enough. You must stay gone. Train your heart like a dog. Change the locks, even on the house he's never visited.
You lucky, lucky girl. You have an apartment just your size. A bathtub full of tea. A heart the size of Arizona—but not nearly so arid.
Don't wish away your cracked past, your crooked toes. Your problems are papier mache puppets you made or bought because the vendor at the market was so compelling you just had to have them.
You had to have him. And you did. And now you pull down the bridge between your houses, you make him call before he visits, you take a lover for granted, you take a lover who looks at you like maybe you are magic.
Make the first bottle you consume in this place a relic. Place it on whatever altar you fashion with a knife and five cranberries.
Don't lose too much weight. Stupid girls are always trying to disappear as revenge. And you are not stupid.
You loved a man with more hands than a parade of beggars, and here you stand. Heart like a four-poster bed. Heart like a canvas. Heart leaking something so strong they can smell it in the street.”
from “Frida Kahlo to Marty McConnell” by poet Marty McConnell
I came across this powerful poem and it deeply resonated with me. I wanted to share it here because I believe it encapsulates the journey many of us are on, navigating the complex dynamics of relationships with ex-partners who have BPD.
"Leaving is not enough. You must stay gone. Train your heart like a dog. Change the locks, even on the house he's never visited."
These lines are a clear reminder that stepping away from a damaging relationship is only the first step. The real challenge lies in staying away and protecting your heart from being pulled back into a cycle that might be harmful. It talks about creating a safe space, even if it means metaphorically changing the locks in your life.
"You lucky, lucky girl. You have an apartment just your size. A bathtub full of tea. A heart the size of Arizona—but not nearly so arid."
This passage celebrates the new life you've crafted for yourself. It's a testament to the strength and resilience you possess. Despite the vastness of the love you can give, it's crucial to ensure that this love is directed towards mending and enriching yourself.
"Don't wish away your cracked past, your crooked toes. Your problems are papier mache puppets you made or bought because the vendor at the market was so compelling you just had to have them."
This calls for acceptance of your past and imperfections. When people regret their choices, I like to say that no one wakes up and makes a list of ways they're going to fuck up their life. What became problems today were like impulsive purchases we made back then.
"You had to have him. And you did. And now you pull down the bridge between your houses, you make him call before he visits, you take a lover for granted, you take a lover who looks at you like maybe you are magic."
It acknowledges the irresistible pull we felt towards our pwBPD but advocates for setting and enforcing boundaries. It highlights how essential it is to be with someone who truly values you.
The poem concludes with a reminder to cherish your existence and not let grief or revenge overshadow your worth. It encourages us to transform our scars into symbols of resilience.
I hope these words bring some comfort and inspiration to everyone here ❤️

Real-time trading alerts powered by AI can provide valuable insights and signals to help you make informed decisions in the fast-paced world of trading. In this post, we'll walk you through a step-by-step guide to setting up AI-driven trading alerts using free data and simple code examples.
Choose the right tools: To begin with, you need to select the right tools for AI-based real-time trading alerts. Some popular free and open-source tools are:

• Python: A versatile programming language with numerous libraries for data analysis, machine learning, and AI.
• Pandas: A library for data manipulation and analysis in Python.
• Scikit-learn: A library for machine learning and data mining in Python.

Obtain free real-time financial data: To set up real-time trading alerts, you need access to real-time financial data. Some free sources of real-time financial data include:

• Alpha Vantage (https://www.alphavantage.co): Offers a wide range of real-time and historical financial data through APIs.
• IEX Cloud (https://iexcloud.io): Provides access to real-time stock data and financial information.

1. Read and preprocess data: Use Pandas to read and preprocess the real-time financial data obtained from the APIs. For example, to fetch real-time stock prices from Alpha Vantage:

​

import pandas as pd import requests api_key = "YOUR_API_KEY" symbol = "MSFT" url = f"https://www.alphavantage.co/query?function=TIME_SERIES_INTRADAY&symbol={symbol}&interval=1min&apikey={api_key}" response = requests.get(url) data = response.json() prices = pd.DataFrame(data['Time Series (1min)']).T prices.head() 

Create trading indicators: To set up trading alerts, you need to create trading indicators that signal potential opportunities. Common trading indicators include:

• Simple Moving Average (SMA)
• Exponential Moving Average (EMA)
• Relative Strength Index (RSI)

For example, to calculate the 5-minute SMA using Python and Pandas:
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prices['sma_5'] = prices['4. close'].rolling(window=5).mean() 

Develop an AI-based trading strategy: Once you have the trading indicators, you can develop an AI-based trading strategy. For example, you can create a simple moving average crossover strategy:
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def generate_signals(prices): signals = [] for i in range(1, len(prices)): if prices['sma_5'][i] > prices['sma_20'][i] and prices['sma_5'][i - 1] <= prices['sma_20'][i - 1]: signals.append("Buy") elif prices['sma_5'][i] < prices['sma_20'][i] and prices['sma_5'][i - 1] >= prices['sma_20'][i - 1]: signals.append("Sell") else: signals.append("Hold") return signals prices['signal'] = generate_signals(prices) 

Set up real-time trading alerts: Now that you have the AI-based trading strategy, you can set up real-time trading alerts. To do this, you can monitor the real-time data and trigger alerts based on the strategy:
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def check_alerts(prices, symbol): latest_signal = prices['signal'].iloc[-1] if latest_signal == "Buy": print(f"AI Alert: Buy {symbol}") elif latest_signal == "Sell": print 

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].