Paradox, Viciate, and Lorenzo continued on their descent into the castle to the Well of Wisdom. A sacred place bestowed on the Alphaverse since its creation. A well that possess the most valuable wisdom from across the Megaverse. Paradox had his group stop in one of the chambers for he assumed his prisoners will be awaking from the poison soon. He then had his chains wrap around King Alexander, Venessa, Cross, Tray, Selena, Malissa, Lucrest, Leoped, and Phonix. Viciate deployed several drones that aimed their weapons at the chained prisoners with Paradox standing resolute holding the Matrix of Eternity in his hands. The prisoners eventually woke up one by one and were greeted by crude words and jeers directed towards them. The chains that bound them prevented them from utilizing their powers to break their bonds and even if they did, the bullets from the drones will prove extremely lethal to their weakened state. Paradox ordered the prisoners to be placed in a line on their knees as he snapped his fingers which summoned imps and more infernal warriors to act as guards. King Alexander, "You can't restore the Matrix in the Well of Wisdom, it will shred you to pieces." Paradox smugly, "Maybe, but that's why I'll have each of you go in for me and see who can withstand the Well." Malissa, "He's going to sacrifice us! Where is Joan? Did she escape?" Paradox, "Oh I believe Tray knows the answer to that." Everyone turned wondering where Tray could be until he finally spoke, the others were shock at his new appearance for he appeared otherworldly to them. Tray did not lift his eyes towards the group, but rather hung his head low. Paradox's eyes beamed with sadistic delight as he spoke, "I guess one can say your sister is now very OPEN MINDED!" It took a few seconds for this joke to register in the minds of the prisoners, but when it did, all of them violently shook the chains in order to be free. "Go ahead use all your powers to break those chains, it only transfers your power levels into my soul. Lockjaw was right, all of you are complete fools in underestimating these accursed chains!"
He grabbed Phonix as his victim but stopped when what seemed to be an earthquake began to shake the foundations of the castle. The earthquake only intensified the longer it went, Venessa, "Does anyone else hear bass boosted music?" In a spectacular explosion of dazzling lights and rifts across space and time, Diamond's glowing body appeared in a giant hole in one of the castle's walls while blaring Hit Me Baby One More Time. Everyone was left speechless when they saw Diamond, believing it to be a ghost. "PARADOX!!!!!" In terror Paradox began to back away, "Impossible, I scarred you for life! HOW ARE YOU EVEN STRONGER THAN BEFORE?!" "It is not for you to know the circumstances that brought me here before you today. Regardless I am back. AND THIS TIME THERE IS NO POWER IN THE MEGAVERSE OR THE NETHERWORLD THAT IS GOING TO STOP ME!" Paradox ordered Lorenzo, Viciate, and the rest of his minions to dispose of Diamond as he journeys deeper to the Well of Wisdom. Viciate used his powers to generate clones of his allies as he slowly approached Diamond. Observing this, Diamond began to smile, "How about I even those odds." After finishing his sentence, 20 identical clones of Diamond manifested themselves behind him. Unlike other clones or copies, these 20 were able to act independently as a collective hive mind. The original Diamond attacked Viciate head on while the duplicates attacked the other clones and others attempted to free the prisoners. Viciate attempted in drawing his sword to strike Diamond in an exposed position, but Diamond's intense senses was able to prevent Viciate from using his sword. In a matter of seconds, Diamond punched Viciate to a bloody mess before leaving him stuck on one of the walls.
His abilities alerted him of several imps closing on his position, and in a swift motion, Diamond created a new Sword of Light, which was far longer and sharper to simultaneously decapitate all of the imps that circled around him. While watching all of this unfold before her very eyes, Selena could not help but smile at seeing Diamond restored to his former self, "He's back." A clone of Diamond randomly appeared next to her, "Nice to know I'm no longer on house arrest." The clone was able to free Selena from her chains and started to free the rest of the prisoners. After freeing them, he gave the group a new set of orders, "I may not know all of you, but focus your abilities in taking down those devilish warriors over there. I'll handle Paradox." The clone soon vanished alongside the other copies leaving only the original Diamond left. Just when Diamond started to follow Paradox's trail, Lorenzo used his acidic whip to suspend Diamond in place. Lorenzo was successful in his attack and used this advantage to expel fatal toxins into Diamond's lungs. "Ugh. Dude, you got some serious oral hygiene problems. Here take a mint!" Lorenzo's mouth was open due to him being stunned seeing his foe unphased with his lethal toxin. The supposed mint landed on his tongue, which resulted in a strong electrical shock being sent all over his body causing him to black out. "Nice whip though, I'm for real going to take this for my collection." Diamond bent over and collected the whip before resuming on his mission to destroy Paradox. Paradox was nearly at the entrance of the Well, but felt his body frozen in place, no matter how hard he tried to move. He finally realized he was frozen by Diamond's soul manipulation, yet when he made this realization, Diamond was already floating horizontally whispering into Paradox's audio receptor, "I think I am going to show off my newfound abilities."
Paradox tried to slice Diamond with a chain along his back, but Diamond vanished before he could land a hit. He reappeared behind him and with a simple flick, Diamond sent Paradox crashing through the castle's walls and ceilings. Paradox regained his stance as he morphed into Astros as he stopped a punch from Diamond which sent shockwaves, shattering any neighboring glass. Paradox kicked Diamond at his shin before hitting him with brute force across his face. He summersaulted backwards a few yards as he morphed into the Ice King. He then summoned several frozen daggers and sharp projectiles as he sent them flying towards Diamond at light speed. Diamond noticed the projectiles flying towards him as he achieved speeds that made time around him slow down several seconds. It was if things were occurring to him at a quarter speed, so with a wave of his arm, he took control of the projectiles and had them float around him before resuming time and sending them back to Paradox. Paradox moaned loudly as the projectiles lodged themselves in tight crevasses of his body and interfering with some of the vital mechanisms. The two teleported away from the castle into the depths of the grand city where they continued their battle. Paradox changed into Shen the disgraced Shogun as he desperately tried to slice off Diamond's limbs and head. Diamond casually dodged each attack with ease he summoned the Sword of Light which has grown longer and sharper to reflect his reunion with the Light. The two blades collided with each other, but Paradox was no match for Diamond's swordsman skills.
Diamond noticed Paradox's right arm malfunctioning from one of the ice projectiles and taking advantage of this weakness, he punched Paradox repeatedly in the chest before kicking him to the floor. He then created a revolver from his nanites and fired four bullets consecutively into his weak spot. He knew his bullets succeeded in wounding his opponent, for the sound of loose air began to hiss from broken wires and Paradox's arm glitching by morphing into many different appearances before changing back to its default appearance. Diamond smiled smugly as he released that Paradox was truly terrified in that moment, "Where has your self-confidence gone? Are those appearances not making you comfortable in your mechanical body?" "SHUT UP!" Paradox then changed into Mecha-Diamond as he was able to grab Diamond by his throat and threw him into multiple buildings. The two eventually landed on top of a commuter train before Diamond could free himself. Diamond sliced his opponent's arm to free himself and used his thrusters to fly backwards as he observed Paradox's body shifting gears to re-forge the missing arm. While in the form of Mecha-Diamond, Paradox had four mechanical tentacles grow out of him, which resulted in Diamond activating his suit to grow tentacles of his own. The two opponents had their tentacles wrap around each other as they fired their blasters at each other. Diamond tried to create two clones of himself, but Paradox's tentacles grabbed him and tossed him into one of the train carts as the civilians screamed in terror. He gradually regained consciousness as he prepared to find Paradox, but for a long minute, he could not sense Paradox. It was not until a lady screamed of a large spider approaching them from the other end when Diamond released it is Paradox crawling on all fours with great speed. Paradox shifted back to full height in a most grotesque fashion as his body spun in different ways before his head shifted back to its normal size. Diamond yelled at the passengers to run to the other cart as he dealt with Paradox. While the passengers fled, two extra mechanical arms began to form on Paradox's appearance of Mecha-Diamond as all four of arms ignited red plasma blades. "Attack Diamond!" The four arms began to spin in opposite directions of his body in quick movements as he rapidly approached Diamond that it was impossible to strike him above or behind.
Confused on what his next move should be, Diamond noticed parts of Paradox's chest plate were loose as it was glitching in and out. Out of options, Diamond swung at Paradox which he swiftly blocked with the four blades, but Diamond was able to have his nanotech grow on Paradox's arms as he then had the nanites send an electric shock on the foreign host, which granted him an opening in tearing off the chest plate and firing two blasts from his repulsers into Paradox's chest. This stunned Paradox as Diamond charged at him and began to tear all the vital wires, buttons, and controls that operated Paradox's mechanical body. Paradox's voice box became affected as it began to shift into different tones and voices as he tried to speak, "No, I will.....not.....be bested a.....second......time." Paradox was able to gain control of his arms as he threw Diamond out of the train cart out into the city's skyline. Diamond was able to shoot a grapple around Paradox's legs as he pulled both of them out into the air as his body began to glow golden with pure Light. Paradox descended towards him with chains around his body as he prepared to strike fatal blows on Diamond's body. Diamond closed his eyes as he extended his right arm while having his fingers form a finger gun. He whispered silently with firm conviction, "Through the power of Heaven's Light all things are possible......grant me the power to send this foul demon of a man back to the infernal depths where he belongs." Diamond then fired a large blast of pure Light towards Paradox as his enemy screamed in anger, "NOOOOOOOOOOO!" The power caused from this blast was so strong and hot that it started to melt the metal on Paradox's body and causing any remaining circuits to fry.
Diamond floated towards the ground as he stared at a ball of fire fall towards the ground as it created a large crater. He stepped forward and saw Paradox's mangled body as his soul still held possession of it. Paradox was still able to manipulate his body to change into whoever he chooses, and as a last resort he changed to Diamond's mother. "Trevor.......how could you do this.....to me......your own mother.......after all your father and I have done for you this is how you repay us?" "Quit your bull you pathetic character of a soul. If I had the power to judge you in the afterlife, I would create a separate place for sadistic manipulators such as yourself so all you scoundrels can do nothing more than hurt yourselves for your sins!" Diamond then used his power to lift Paradox in the air and was about to crush his body and seal his soul permanently, but as he did so a blazing portal appeared as a pitch-black arm reached out and snatched Paradox before Diamond had time to react. Dumbfounded, Diamond de-activated his suit and left his Light form in order to process what happened. Realizing there was nothing else to do he traveled back to the castle. When he arrived, he saw how the group of heroes easily defeated all of the devilish creatures and were tossing all the dead bodies into a giant pile. Only one thing concerned him, the fact Lorenzo and Viciate's bodies were both missing from the battle. He reasoned they managed to escape, but with the injuries they sustained, it would be a long while before they would show themselves again. After making this assumption, Diamond's family greeted him with open arms and hugs, yet even Diamond did not recognize Tray's new body. Tray had to explain his entire story again to Diamond so he would understand why he looked like "A living glowstick." Hearing Tray's story about Joan made Diamond sorrowful and offered to help in making sure Joan's body receives a proper burial. King Alexander and Diamond hastily organized the funeral and gave Joan's family time to grieve and remember their youngest member that was stolen from them.
While the mourners were conversing with themselves, the king wanted to lead Diamond through the many rooms and wings of the enchanting castle. He wanted to show Diamond the inner secrets and history of this castle, so he very discretely led him down a flight of stairs into an older section of the castle where even most of the king's court were not allowed to enter. The two stepped through two enormous emerald doors and continued on through the darkness. The king ignited a turquoise flame from his hands and led Diamond to a large wall. King Alexander, "Stare at these murals Diamond. Notice the story they tell." Diamond stared at the murals and paintings on the wall trying to understand the history behind them. He saw what appeared to be angels directing two races. To the right were humans with their leader baring a resemblance to Alexander with folded hands in prayer as their eyes gazed at the Heavenly specters, in addition it appeared that swords and shields were descending towards them. To the left were the ancient race of Enders who also had their gaze towards Heaven, but descending towards their hands were scrolls with quills, signifying their role to write and document. At the front of the line of Enders stood none other than Ranfus, although significantly younger. Diamond continued down the wall as the next scene involved the leaders of the humans and enders being coronated with the two leaders' hands being locked in agreement. The next scene depicted what was either a battle or war where many humans and enders were dead, brough to their demise by rebellious humans. It depicted how after the battle Ranfus took the remaining enders away to a place that could supervise the entire Megaverse free from human interaction. The last scene showed the battle worn king of the humans siting on his throne with a tear in his left eye, while his right side remained stoic. His left arm pointed downwards to a decree while his right arm pointed upwards with a grand castle and city floating in the palm of his hand. "The Enders used to dwell with you?" "Indeed, for you see, the king in those murals is actually my great-grandfather. Time goes by very slowly for us here, not only that but we tend to live for thousands of years. Originally, after the first man and woman were created and fell into sin, we were created in the aftermath of that event. We bear the same weaknesses as other humans after the fall, but we were created to protect the Enders, who would document the shifting tide of Creation across the Megaverse. Our special duty connected us more in tune with the messengers of Heaven and we strived to live up to our mission of acting as the second example for the Megaverse, the Main Omniverse being the first. Yet, a few of the humans of my great-grandfather's time were seduced by the powers of evil for the many fallen angels, now turned demons, preyed upon their fallen status and sparked division between human and ender. Eventually a genocide broke out where rogue humans wanted the power of the Enders to themselves and would slaughter anyone who opposed them. My great-grandfather and Ranfus ultimately triumphed, but the damage had been done for the Enders no longer trusted us and collectively agreed humans everywhere were unpredictable and destructive. Ranfus left this Omniverse with the survivors of his race, thus leaving us as the sole inhabitants of this realm. From the ashes of the old kingdom, my great-grandfather led the creation of a new one as you can see here, but the reason why his left side is sad is the fact he did not kill the leaders of the rebellion. He did not want to take their lives, so instead he banished them to the wildness of the Megaverse. After casting them out of this Omniverse, he placed a ban where no one will be able to enter or leave. Using his divine gifts, he was able to practically make it seem like this Omniverse was erased and could not be discoverable unless him or another king wills its borders to open up once again."
"And what happened to the exiled ones?" "Most of them died across the Megaverse but their main leader, Mek'el continued following the path of evil and grew stronger in the powers of darkness. This granted him an unnatural talent of cheating death, but when an event in Omniverse 63,745 occurred when that Omniverse's Celestial had an offspring with that Omniverse's name for an angel, Mek'el sensed the potential of such an offspring." "Hold on, that's the Omniverse the Megaverse Council and I had named Evangelion. Yeah, those creatures they call angels are definitely not real angels, but you mean to tell me that this Mek'el influenced The Devourer?" "No, Mek'el BECAME The Devourer. He transferred his soul into the newborn soul of the deadly offspring, completely fusing with the new soul. In response to this, my great-grandfather on his deathbed, ordered my grandfather to create a device that could end Mek'el once and for all. That device was the Matrix of Eternity. It was hastily crafted before my grandfather sent it to Omniverse 63,745 hoping it could destroy Mek'el there. Unfortunately, it did not fulfill its original purpose due to Mek'el fully becoming The Devourer and traveled across the Megaverse eating the Core of whatever Omniverse he entered. His travels would take a long time to reach his next destination, but nothing could stop him. The Matrix continued to grow with wisdom in Omniverse 63,745 before an apparition of an Ender ordered a singular person to send the Matrix in the direction of the Main Omniverse. Eventually, the Matrix landed in your Omniverse, but was kept hidden for a long time with only glimpses and rumors of such a treasure of untold power being passed on from dimension to dimension. Finally at last, you found it in 2021 just as The Devourer arrived in your Omniverse. Little did you know, but upon his defeat when you unleashed the power of the Matrix, it sent shockwaves across the Megaverse. Myself along with my people celebrated when we felt the destruction of The Devourer, finally knowing a dark piece of our history has been put to rest." "When I traveled to Omniverse 63,745 last summer, it was promoted that they created the Matrix of Eternity." "Their leaders simply changed the story and wiped our part out of their history books, for the select few who told you it was their ancestors that created it are not at fault. For they too believe this error, this is simply a mistake on their ancestor's part and nothing more. Come along now, let's head back up a few stairs back to where there was an intersection, there is more I need to show you."
The king led Diamond to a room with many floating orbs that had different colors symbolizing a different Omniverse. "I am aware that you and the Megaverse Council have a broad idea to all the soldiers at the disposal of our enemy. But I want to show you some specific souls that are.......unique. The person known as The Ageless managed to recruit several corrupted versions of the strongest beings in your Omniverse's hierarchy. Among them consist of a fallen Omniversal Tribunal, Protectors, Insanity Trio, Bad Time Trio, many alternate timeline versions of you, and other powerful individuals from the Megaverse. The Ageless and Demonic Council calls this elite group the Bad End Friends. King Alexander brings forth an orb that displays the souls of those fallen humans. This reveals the true thoughts of their soul and what their soul really says." Diamond leaned forward to hear the cries of their souls and was surprised to hear their souls cry out in unison. "We just wanted to heal but now our nightmares are real, and we'll never wake up for we're torn apart! We want freedom! Freedom! Freedom!" Diamond could not believe what he heard, for it caused him to step back to avoid their cries. "Secondly, I want to briefly touch on the Ageless' story. Thousands of years ago lived a man born with unnatural gifts, he could enter into violent places and leave with minor bruises. He was able to kill the celestials in his world with his mere hands and crude weapons. Yet, he was not satisfied, he wanted more power and more entities to kill, for he enjoyed the bloodlust. This led to him being sought out by the fallen Seraphim now named Black Hat. He offered him more power and an entire place beyond his imagination to live the rest of his days as a butcher. The man agreed and henceforth became an unwavering servant directly to Black Hat. Eventually, he earned a reputation by parading himself as a savior wearing polished white and gold armor, in order to win the trust of many defenders who protected their native Omniverse. Once he won their complete trust and learned their secrets and fears, it would be too late for that Omniverse. For it would be a matter of time before complete carnage would be unleashed on all the helpless souls in that Omniverse. Thus, he was given the title Harbinger of the End.......a human who is an undisputed champion in gladiator battles with a mind to match his muscles.......a man always youthful, laughing at the hands of time........The Ageless."
"The last thing I want to reveal to you is the location of our enemy's base. The Megaverse Council has discovered it and that is Omniverse 6,666,666. That Omniverse had so many events that ran parallel with your Omniverse it was almost an exact copy. However, before your Omniverse was assaulted by Black Hat's forces in 2021, they won a resounding battle in that Omniverse. Everything that could have gone wrong in that final battle, did indeed go wrong." King Alexander used his powers to generate a vision of that fateful day. The scene pans to a bloodied and defeated Diamond with a shattered Sword of the Omniverse with Black Hat towering over him. The two listened intently when Black Hat spoke, "The Initiative has fallen. Its members......lost. You have been deceived......betrayed.........purged." The vision hovers over countless bodies of Initiative members that had died in the battle with some of their corpses disfigured and mutilated they were unidentifiable. "I can feel you are scared of judgement day. You led millions of souls to their grave. Your lukewarm faith shaken due to your pleas and petitions being ignored. So, I offer you a choice. Join us and postpone the judgement day, have all the pleasures of the world handed back to you, and avoid living the life as a failure!" The defeated Diamond raised his teary eyes and spoke, "I......accept!" The crowd around him chuckled as Black Hat stepped away with Alastor taking his place, "It's a deal!" The defeated Diamond shook his hand and became controlled and a vessel for Alastor until his original body could be restored. After this moment a large echo of thunder echoes across the battlefield with a bright light shining in the distance. The Ageless, "What is that?" Black Hat, "The veil of the Main Omniverse has been lifted. We are no longer kept out! We must seize this opportunity before it's too late." Ageless remain here with Alastor's vessel." "Why?" "If things go sour for me and my forces in the Main Omniverse, I want us to still have a strong foothold here in the Megaverse. This Omniverse will be perfect. I will be taking half of our forces with me." "What of the few people who survived this battle, should I find them and use them as prisoners and entertainment?" Black Hat had a sadistic smile, "There are no survivors!" The vision then played the sounds of screams with Diamond begging Alexander to end the vision. "That's enough! I cannot watch nor listen to this vision anymore! Please end this nightmare!"
Alexander ended the vision as the two were brought back to reality. Alexander spoke with sympathy to Diamond, "I did not show you that vision to torture you. I revealed it, because you need to understand exactly what to expect from our enemy and take deep root in your faith." "Why did the pleas and petitions of that Diamond go unanswered?" "Truthfully, that Diamond did not pray for deliverance, he instead wanted more glory and praise. When he was in public and prayed, it was for show, and he was not sincere in the words he said. Even at the last moment, he received a message from Heaven begging him to repent from his prideful ways and deliverance would come. Yet, in that last moment, he refused with his soul saying no it has to be my way and I do not want to change the life I am living and that's final. It was his fault no Heavenly aid came, now he has no one else to blame other than himself for his misdeeds and wickedness." Diamond's body had a series of goosebumps when King Alexander finished speaking. He always wondered what would have happened in the final battle for his Omniverse if there was no intervention, now he wished for this catastrophic example to leave his mind.
After this event, King Alexander led Diamond to a sacred place called the Veil of the Celestial Plane to speak with his angelic friends. Along the way, King Alexander explained to Diamond the difference between True Balance and Perfection. How True Balance is the perfect imperfect form of Perfection, because as mortal creatures that are finite with flaws no person alive can reach True Perfection. He explained how demons fear True Balance and how the demons only focus on temporal goals not eternal, for all that awaits them in eternity is eternal punishment. (This is a footnote, because at the end of this post in the comment section I will share the entire conversation in greater detail, for some reason the Sub-Reddit automatic rules count it as a rating post no matter how hard I rephrased the dialogue. Very weird that happened because it never happened before, but hopefully I will be able to share that conversation in full under this post, because it took a lot of effort in composing the dialogue.)
Filled with courage and zeal from their conversation, Diamond entered into the Veil and soon found himself in a vast empty white plain where numerous figures of light floated around him before manifesting themselves as angelic beings. He observed how each of the nine choirs of angels were present. "The Seraphim, Cherubim, Thrones, Dominions, Virtues, Powers, Principalities, Archangels, and Angels. All present here at this very moment." A Seraphim spoke up, "Why do you wish to commune with us?" "I am here seeking advice from my Heavenly friends in these trying times. I'm sure all of you are very much aware and can sense in the Celestial Cosmic Plane that the forces of evil are growing ever so powerful. I can feel it within my being that soon a final confrontation may happen." Saint Michael the Archangel, "You already possess all that you need. You know the prayers for deliverance and aid. Furthermore, you know how your enemy thinks." "With all due respect, this time it is different. Different than the way it was for the fate of the Main Omnvierse. This....is the fate of the Megaverse....of everything that had exist, currently exists and will exist. Please there must be some advice all of you may be able to bestow upon me." A Virtue floated towards Diamond's soul to speak, "These particular demons feast on fear, chaos, and revenge. They want nothing more than to see the righteous fall, yet their common weakness is the sin of pride." Uriel intervened, "Pride, that ancient sin which was the sole root that led a third of our former brothers and sisters into disobedience. Fully rejecting the True Love of the Father and willingly following the arrogance of the fallen light bearer, who now brings darkness and death to everyone." Azrael quickly followed up with Uriel's statement, "When they fell from grace, they still retained their position and powers. Now with their leaders nearly having their bodies restored before their fall, through the power of The Seed, they are more of a threat to the Natural Order."
Diamond came to a sudden realization, "With Cloaked Shadow having control of the Dark and shadows in general, does that mean he was a Power before he fell?" The choirs nodded as Diamond responded with his hands near his mouth deep in thought. "I see, well if pride is their weakness than surely arrogance is a key factor in their personalities. Perhaps if the Matrix of Eternity is re-loaded with the knowledge accessible from the Alphaverse, it could overwhelm them." A Cherub, "Yes! The knowledge from the Alphaverse can restore the Matrix and used to harm the demons!" Saint Gabriel the Archangel, "Do not be afraid in this next step in your journey, Trevor. Since the fall of man, the Devil and his minions have actively been at war with mankind, searching for ways to snatch souls from Heaven. Yet, in the history of not only the Megaverse, but your own world, you know that God conquers all, even in the darkest times. From the persecution of the early Christians under the rule of the Mad Emperor Nero, deadly heresies, scandals, political and religious wars, the French Revolution, Napoleon Wars, Russian Revolution, Mexican Revolution, World Wars, down to the present. The demons worked through man to not only bring ruin to the face of the Earth, but to attack the Church. However, both the Earth and the Church have endured and will continue to endure until the end of time when God will come in all His splendor and glory and reward the just while punishing the wicked. For they will receive their reward." A Throne, "There is one more thing that will surely turn the tide of the war, but only as a last resort." Diamond, "What is it? Please share." A Seraphim, "The hypothesis of you being able to fuse with your friends Ben Tennyson and Xavier is true. If Xavier is fully in tune with his scarab and enter into his phase known as Sacred and Tennyson into Alien X, you three will become the singular most powerful entity in the entire Megaverse." Saint Michael the Archangel, "Be warned for this should only be used as a complete last resort. For there can be no going back when you three become a singular entity. There might be potential for you three to separate from this final form, but if there is, it will be certain death for no mortal can yield that much power. Arise young warrior, take courage, and have total faith on the Lord, He will hear your prayers. Remember we are at your side and every warrior in the final battle will have their guardian angel with them at all times."
The Heavenly beings once again became balls of bright light, which slowly blinded Diamond before he awoke from his vision back in his own body just before the Veil of the Celestial Plane. King Alexander stared at Diamond before helping him to his feet. Diamond, "I know what I must do. I must re-load the Matrix in the Well of the Megaverse." Alexander, "That's suicide. For you to be exposed to so much power and knowledge, it will vaporize you." "Believe me, it will work. Just help me recover the pieces of the Matrix and I will reforge it with the nanotech from my suit." Diamond sprinted with great haste through all the flights of stairs Alexander had them take, back to where the pieces of the Matrix laid. He had Alexander hold the pieces together in their proper position as the nanotech from his suit crawled around the broken pieces and fused the Matrix back together again. During this time the other heroes caught up to Diamond and Alexander and decided to watch as Diamond would enter the Well of the Megaverse. King Alexander led the group to the entrance of the Well where everyone wished him good luck. Diamond transformed into his Light form and entered the Well. This form allowed him to withstand the pressure around him as he opened the Matrix to collect wisdom from all corners of the Megaverse both the good and bad. When he did this, thousands of images and lifetimes flashed in his mind causing him to scream, in order to avoid his mind from overloading he constantly switched to different forms and phases every 30 seconds. Everyone waited anxiously outside after hearing Diamond's screams and began to fear for the worst, but just when their hope wavered, a silhouette started to walk towards them. From the depths of the Well emerged Diamond holding the restored Matrix of Eternity firmly in his right hand. King Alexander, "Welcome back Diamond!" "Thanks. With the Matrix restored and the new alliance your Omniverse has made with the Megaverse Council, hope for our victory has reached an all-time high." The heroes only stayed for a few more hours at the Alphaverse before returning back to the base of the Megaverse Council. Upon arrival, the Council members were stunned to see the return of their leader, and with swift orders, Diamond once again regained leadership of the Megaverse Council.
Epilogue
In a desolate place with abandoned buildings in Omniverse 3. "Volxi, can you head downstairs into our storage to bring some refreshment to our party?" "You got it sis!" Volxi entered into one of the chambers to find a spare stash of spiked beverages but was startled when she heard a voice echo in the darkness. "Time's running out Vol." She leaned over to view where the voice was coming from until her eyes landed on a glowing dark green warrior. She gasped as she recognized it was her old friend from Omniverse 8. "Cayden what happened to you?" "That name no longer has any meaning for me." "You look so different. Your skin is green and your eyes black. You look like......" "A ghost? Phantom? Condemned Soul?! Truly a miserable fate I have fallen into. Given a body constantly degenerating and repairing itself, allowing me to phase between matter but how painful it is feeling my cells destroy themselves before regenerating and repeating the process all over again." "Is this a dream?" "No." "I thought not, if it was there would be something to replenish my throat." Cayden hands Volxi a bottle. "Thanks mate. I still have a cup on me. Here it's on the house." Cayden took a long sip before speaking. "We haven't seen each other since the destruction of your people's original home. A lot has happened since then. Last year a terrible event plagued the Megaverse and I tried to stop it. I made my own device that enabled me to visit other Omniverses. I could sense something sinister causing many Omniverses to die. I took my weapons and went to who I thought was responsible. That man was so strong and talented, he mortally wounded me without taking our fight seriously. I thought at that moment when I laid dying that I would give anything to get a second chance at life. To see my friends and family again. My requests were answered by a figure in black business attire and a top hat."
Volxi groaned for she knew who he was referring to while Cayden continued on with his speech. "I accepted his offer and became what you see before you. The only part that was positive is in our contract, I managed to still own partial control of my soul. Perhaps it is through this partial ownership that causes me to experience great pains and desperately seek liberation." "And you came back to your friend for aid huh?" "No, I came as a messenger." Volxi stared at him with concern. "You struck a deal with him too, Volxi. A deal before your home, the ninth Omniverse was destroyed, causing you and all the survivors to wander throughout the Megaverse." "I forgot all about that deal. It can't happen this soon, he did not even stay true to his promise." "Is that really a surprise?" "DANG IT! Alright I'll wager my way out of it. I always do." "You can't talk to yourself out of this one!" "How long do I have Cayden?" Cayden stepped close to Volxi where he was only a few inches away from her face. "That name has no meaning for me, I'm The Shameful now. You have only a few hours. He will send his terrible leviathan to drag you, your sister, and this entire Omniverse along with you! Already his army sets their eyes on this world, drawn by ravenous hunger, by the one who bears the crimson scar." The Shameful laid his hand on a piece of Volxi's face that was not covered by cybernetics. "Make peace with your losses and may it only be a swift end and not a contract of servitude. Alas, he always comes to collect what is his." In that moment The Shameful vanished from her sight and without a moment to lose, she started running back upstairs into the settlement screaming for everyone to pack their things and prepare to leave. Her sister, Val stopped her, "Did you fall down the stairs giving you that slash across your face? What's coming after us?" Volxi stared deep into her sister's soul, "We need to run as far as we can and get our people to safety before it's too late." From a few hundred yards away The Ageless stood waiting for the perfect time to strike with Maestro Zorro summoning the nightmarish Leviathan.

Part 1
Part 2
Part 3
We pulled off I-51 a little after midnight, stopping at a truck stop which was couched between the highway and a large forest.
We waited in the van for ten minutes or so. Trent had increased the sonar radius to its maximum of 30 miles a little over an hour ago. Somehow the red pings had kept up with us, holding a steady distance of around 20 miles. Considering we were averaging around 80 mph, and a coyote's top speed is only around 40 mph, we figured they had been enhanced in some way. Either that, or they shape-shifted into something faster. Regardless, now that we had stopped, we waited to see if the demon spawn would try and close the distance. Luckily, or unluckily, they didn't. They kept their 20 mile buffer, but we noticed they were beginning to spread out along the circumference of that boundary.
"We're close. They know that, so they're trying to trap us in." Trent said.
"Trying to?—more like they have."
We considered whether we should stay in the van and keep watch, but we figured that would do us little good. At their speed, they could be on us in ten minutes, which means we would need to stay up all night and keep tabs on their positions. Trent offered to stay up, of course, but I shut him down.
"The demon doesn't want to kill us now. You said it yourself. Plus, we need our rest. If they come, they come."
Trent didn't like it, but he acquiesced.
The truck stop had all the essentials: a gas station and mini mart with showers and an attached McDonald's, a large parking lot for truckers to idle and sleep, and even a section with lodging for those who wanted a more comfortable night's rest. I told Trent that he should take advantage of the showers, and after a little convincing, he agreed. While he was cleaning himself up, I patrolled the dingy, half-stocked aisles of "Daisy's Quick Mart". I probably would have been appalled at the quality of the store had I actually been paying any attention to it whatsoever. But I wasn't. I was thinking hard about what awaited me tomorrow.
During the drive, I had asked Trent why the demon would want us to return to the crash site. What did he mean that I would be 'confronting a dark entity in a place he couldn't help me'? He seemed hesitant to answer, but my little stunt outside the storage facility seemed to have sufficiently motivated him.
"When I said I've never done this before, I meant it." Trent started. "I've never done this exact thing before—meaning I've never projected someone into the past."
"So, I'm time traveling?" I asked.
"No—don't think of it like that." Trent paused, trying to come up with a good explanation. "It's more like I'm opening a window for you to look through: not a door. You're going to see the past, but you can't interact with the physicalities there. But that doesn't mean you can't interact with anything."
There was a space of silence as Trent tried to let me work out his meaning for myself. "I don't get it. Are you saying there's something I can interact with? Like what?" And then it hit me. "The demon. The demon can interact with me? Meaning what? It can kill me?"
"Meaning… I'm not exactly sure. You're going to be in a kind of psychic space. If it does damage, it won't be to your body. It'll be to your mind—or spirit. But I don't know what the limits of that damage could be. I just don't have those answers."
"If you've never done this, how do you know any of it will work?"
"That's an easy one." Trent answered. "Because it's been done to me."
There was silence.
"Look, if I know anything, I know my tech. Don't doubt that this will work. It's my job to make sure it does. I just need you to be in the right mental for this. Just because it knows your coming doesn't mean it automatically has the upper hand. It won't be able to see you unless you make contact with it first. In other words, you have to initiate contact. As long as you remain a spectator, you should be okay. Trust me. Just don't make contact."
I started pacing faster—fast enough to catch the attention of the overnight shift worker, a young man whose name I can't quite remember. I know it started with a "J". Jake, maybe? Anyway, he asked if I was alright, to which I responded in the affirmative. He left me alone for another couple passes, but when I almost ran into one of the shelves, he stood up and said, "Uh—I'm going to have to ask you to stop running around. I don't want you to hurt yourself."
I must have stared daggers at him, because he recoiled from my gaze. What's gotten into me? I thought. Then, steadying myself, I apologized. I looked around and grabbed the nearest edible looking piece of merchandise: a bag of Swedish Fish, and placed it down on the counter. "Just this, please."
The cashier rang me up. It was surprisingly cheap.
"Are you sure you're alright?" the young man asked. He was tall with brown hair. He seemed tired—maybe even more tired than me. But he also seemed kind.
I smiled as best I could and said, "No, I'm not. But there's not really anything you can do. Hell, there might not be anything I can do." I furrowed my eyebrows at my own response, realizing that imminent death may have broken my verbal filter.
On the other hand, the cashier did not seem surprised at all. "Ah, I see. It's one of those problems." He responded. "Well, hey, for what it's worth, you seem like one of the resilient ones. I think you'll be alright."
I only smiled and nodded at his mildly cryptic comment. Looking back, the whole interaction was a bit strange, but I had way too much mental clutter to recognize that in the moment. I took my Swedish Fish and walked through the anteroom which led to McDonald's. I found an open yellow booth that wasn't littered with crumpled straw sleeves and sat down, chomping mindlessly on my little red fish until Trent returned. When he arrived, he took my place, and I went to shower. After we were both clean and fed, we returned to the van. The pings were still pushed safely out of harm's way. But that didn't mean we were out of harm's way. Trent asked me if I wanted to sleep in the van, saying that "it'd be the safest place."
I thought it over. He was right, obviously. The van was not only outfitted with weapons I couldn't even begin to understand, but it was also our escape, and it would be just as difficult, if not more difficult to break into than the studio-style motel rooms with their wood doors and big windows. Still, if this was going to be my last night on earth, I wanted to sleep in a bed. A real bed. Trent understood and said he'd stay parked right outside my room for the night.
After purchasing a key from the night attendant, I moseyed over to the cement walkways which connected the twenty or so rooms. Mine was room #56, which I thought was odd since, like I said, there were only 20 rooms. I lugged in my tomato plushie and dad's old book and placed them on the queen mattress.
"I'll be right outside." Trent said after I collapsed onto the bed.
"Trent," I called out, stopping him half-way through the door.
"Yeah?"
All the blood in my body rushed up to my face as I realized my unfiltered mouth almost reflexively said the word "stay". I stared at Trent, my heart beating, my face hot. I considered asking him to sleep on the floor like my dad, but that would be childish and impolite. The alternative was to share my bed… Or I could take the floor.
"I'll just be right outside." Trent said before my mind processed a solution. "Come by if you need anything. I'll be up most of the night anyway."
"Okay," I replied in a faint voice.
Trent shut the door.
I sat atop the bedsheets and acquainted myself with my new living space. A feeling of regret closed over me as I considered that even sleeping on a carseat would have been better if it meant I didn't have to be alone. With a sigh, I turned on the bedside lamp and grabbed the book and stuffed tomato, using the tomato as a backrest as I slipped my legs under the covers and situated the book upright on my thighs. I cracked it open and was immediately blasted with a puff of dusty, old book scent. It was ripe at first, and I turned my head away to sneeze, but as I perused through the pages, the scent grew on me. It reminded me of the days growing up when I'd step into dad's study and read through one of the many volumes on cryptic topics which were at least two college degrees above my Lexile range.
I was only a couple minutes into browsing the collection of different scientific and philosophical works when I came across a page which contained highlighted text. This was unusual, as my dad would never mark up his books. He was a purist on that point. I rubbed my thumb over the yellow lines, and sure enough, it was highlighter.
The highlighted text was part of a small book by Carl Jung called "Synchronicity". There were a total of three pages that were marked, and they advanced like this:
Page 5:
The philosophical principle that underlies our conception of natural law is causality*. But if the connection between cause and effect turns out to be only statistically valid and relatively true, then the causal principle is only of relative use for explaining natural processes… That is as much to say that the connection of events may in certain circumstances be other than causal, and require another principle of explanation.*
Page 19:
…there are events which are related to one another experimentally, and in this case meaningfully*, without there being any possibility of proving that this relation is a causal one, since the "transmission" exhibits none of the known properties of energy…a situation which does not yet exist and will only occur in the future could transmit itself as a phenomenon of energy to a receiver in the present…Therefore, it cannot be a question of cause and effect, but of a falling together in time, a kind of simultaneity... "synchronicity"*
Page 22:
A young woman I was treating had, at a critical moment, a dream in which she was given a golden scarab. While she was telling me this dream I sat with my back to the closed window. Suddenly I heard a noise behind me, like a gentle tapping. I turned round and saw a flying insect knocking against the window pane from outside. I opened the window and caught the creature in the air as it flew in. It was the nearest analogy to a golden scarab that one finds in our latitudes, a scarabaeid beetle, the common rose-chafer… which contrary to its usual habits had evidently felt an urge to get into a dark room at this particular moment.
I flipped through the rest of the pages of the book. There was no more highlighted text, but there was a message on the last page which read:
Matthew 7:7-8
I'll meet you in the darkest place.
He also included his typical smiley face which had an ovular shape and three sprouts of hair which I now realized kind of resembled my tomato plushie. It was my dad's writing, of course. But why? And how? What did this mean?
The motel had a Bible stashed away in the nighstand drawer. I got it out and looked up the verses which read the following:
Ask, and it shall be given you; seek, and ye shall find; knock, and it shall be opened unto you: for every one that asketh receiveth; and he that seeketh findeth; and to him that knocketh it shall be opened.
I spent maybe an hour ruminating on all of this. The whole discourse on energy and causality and a "falling together in time" just seemed so right. It was clear that my dad definitely did know what I was going through, but for whatever reason, he made it seem like he was oblivious. Why had he hidden that from me? I felt like I was being pulled in two directions. On the one hand, my dad loved me enough to leave this note, maybe even knowing the exact moment I'd need it. But on the other hand, he had neglected my struggles throughout my entire childhood. He even lied at times. Was this really enough to make up for all of that?
And then there was the section about the future transmitting energy to the past. I read back through the whole paragraph and the original writer had meant it to say this as something that wasn't possible, but my dad's highlighting made it seem like he wanted to flip the meaning. The future does affect the past. I thought about where I was headed and wondered if I would soon discover that for myself.
Lastly, dad's message. The Bible verse reminded me of the first time I prayed; how I reached out to God and received peace as an answer to my prayer. Now I feel like I'm actively seeking… something, but I don't know yet what I'll find. And then there's knocking. At first that reminded me of the story with the beetle tapping on the window, but then I went back even deeper in my memory and dug out the monster tapping at my window, and the words my dad spoke to me in order to set my mind at ease: "you're a superhero. And you know what your greatest superpower is? Your greatest power is you get to tell the monsters what to do. Because the monsters are only as strong as the stories you tell about them…so if you're ever scared, honey, just dream up a better story."
I was crying into my stuffed tomato now. I felt like all the blinking pieces of my life had finally been pulled together into a completed puzzle. This was all by design. My entire life, filled with so much chaos and confusion, was actually preparing me for this moment. And my dad thought I had the tools and strength enough to get through it. I flipped through the book one more time, thinking maybe he had left some other hidden comment—some formula to defeat this demon and return home. But there was nothing. Only that one comment: "I'll meet you in the darkest place."
What's the darkest place, dad? Is that where I'm going? Are you saying you'll be there, too?
With those thoughts in mind, my eyes became heavy shutters which, with a slight pressure on the pulley, winded shut. My swimming thoughts and firework-like fears dissipated, and I returned to a precious childhood memory. It was after an evening soccer practice. Summer. Dad was driving me to Dairy Queen. I got a cherry-dipped twist cone. I was happy.
So, so happy.
***
I woke up to sunlight blaring through my windows. Shit, I overslept, was my immediate thought. I threw off my covers and opened the front door. A glance at the clock showed 1:13 PM. I shouldn't have even been allowed to stay checked in this long. Damn, am I gonna get double-billed for this?
I heard a rummaging sound around the corner of my motel room. It sounded like a squirrel was trying to find an afternoon snack in one of the garbage bins. I stepped outside. The sun was extremely bright, to the point where I had to squint and put my hand over my eyes to even see the ground in front of me. I was trying to walk toward the van, but somehow I ended up in front of the trash bins where the animal's tail was sticking out from a turned-over, silver garbage can. Its tail was wagging excitedly, and I remember thinking that it was much too large to be a squirrel.
The animal bent down as if biting onto something, and I heard the sound of its growl as it struggled to tug whatever it was free from the barrel. Inch by inch, the creature backed out of the canister, and more of its sharp, sticky hair was revealed. I heard something snap, then the creature leapt back and I saw what it was chomping on. My eyes widened in horror as the pink tube of a human intestine was pulled taut like the end of a tangled hose. Blood and entrails were spilling out of the human's opened gut. And then, behind the canine, I saw the person's face. His face was pale white, his eyes closed, and his hair was slicked back… It was Trent.
Before I could react, I heard footsteps approaching from behind. I whirled around and saw my dad. But—no, it wasn't him. It was someone wearing a paper-mache face mask that was painted to look like my dad. The forehead of the mask was already beginning to crack, white specks breaking off like sawdust. Through the cracks, I could see the figure's true form. I didn't know darkness had its own type of light, but that's the only way to describe it. It was as if malevolence itself was reified into a skin which was actually an amalgamation of millions of little, oozing parasites that leached into the nearby light. When it finally spoke, the demon's voice was a full octave lower than the old man's at the deli. And it had an earth-stilling gravitas.
"Today's the day!" He sang and reached into his pocket. His lips curled upward into a foxy smirk. "You have no idea how long I've waited for this day." He said and held up a razor blade. Half his facade had already fallen apart, and now I could see the bugs up close, writhing in what was either horror or ecstasy. And his scent… it was somehow more rank than the rabid coyote rummaging through the trash can with Trent's cut open body inside. The demon closed in on my position, and in one, decisive motion, he brought the blade close to his chin, then sliced it across my throat. "Wake up!" He screamed.
I jumped out of my bed and grabbed my throat, feeling the cold sting of its quick slice. Hyperventilating, I patted the area down, trying to hold the blood in, but when I removed my hands, I saw they were dry. It was only a dream, I thought. Gray light was only beginning to filter in through the drapes. I'm in my hotel room. I'm safe. I tried consoling, but the pragmatic mental massages weren't enough to hold the force of my knees buckling. I dropped onto the carpet and cried for a long while.
Outside, rain was beginning to fall.
***
By the time I met up with Trent, I had already composed myself and decided to keep my dad's message and the nightmare to myself. None of it seemed particularly productive from a logistical standpoint, anyway. And I wanted to focus on the mission.
We stopped by McDonald's and bought a couple cups of coffee. Trent asked if I wanted any food, and I declined. Black coffee seemed like the only thing my stomach could take at the present moment. I could tell Trent was hungry, but he tried playing it off (I guess to be respectful of me?) I told him to knock it off and get something to eat. I didn't need my Charon getting lightheaded and dropping the paddle before he finished rowing me to Hell. He didn't care much for my joke, but he ordered a couple Chicken McGriddles at the kiosk anyway.
There were maybe ten patrons spread throughout the restaurant. We sat down at the same booth from the prior night, this time across from one another. Trent spent the first ten minutes or so babbling about our fuel supply and the logistics of the trip from here on in. Practical stuff. I've come to realize that's how he deals with his stress. He talks it out in short, durable sentences. I mostly nodded and watched as what looked like a storm front closed in on the truck stop. The sky was overcast, and there were darker clouds in the distance. The rain was still only a patter, but a middle-aged man wearing a yellow bow tie on the wall-mounted TV confirmed that there would be heavier rain and thunderstorms very soon.
After the worker delivered Trent's food and he ate it in record time, I posed the one question that was still on my mind.
"How do I fight him?" I asked.
Trent finished a large gulp of his coffee, then looked at me. It was the first substantial thing I'd said all morning; Trent could tell something was off with me, but he figured there was no point in asking what it was. "By 'him', I assume you mean the demon?"
I nodded.
Trent licked his teeth clean. "You could try praying again."
"I'm serious," I responded.
"I'm serious, too. It worked before, didn't it?"
"You mean at my house?"
Trent nodded.
"I thought you weren't a religious man?"
"I'm not. Just a practical one. If praying worked before, maybe it'll work again."
"That's the best you've got? A maybe?"
"No, I've got a lot of shit better than a maybe." He answered. "It's just not accessible where you're going. Which is why I recommend not making contact on the first run."
"First run? So we're going to do this more than once?"
"At least," Trent answered. Then, seeing my expression, he continued. "What? You thought this was going to be a one-and-done? We have to conduct some research first. I did tell you this was new for me, right?"
Somehow Trent's response had set my mind at ease a little. I was going to have more than one chance. Of course, why wouldn't I be able to go back more than once?
"Why didn't you tell me this earlier? It would have gone a long way in easing my mind."
Trent lifted his hands in defense. "Sorry, I just thought that was a given. I mean, what we're doing is dangerous, just like I said, but it doesn't mean we aren't going to approach this as safely and scientifically as possible. However, there is a different problem with running multiple trials."
"The Organization?"
"That's right," Trent said like a proud parent. "Our little experiment will be like a giant spotlight, and the longer we wait around after it's on us, the greater the chance we'll have unwelcome company."
"So, safe but speedy."
"Safe but speedy. Exactly."
***
We fueled up and were back on the road a little after 8:00. From that point on, Trent and I were absolutely silent. I had the distinct feeling of being in the eye of a storm. The pings moved closer commensurate with our progress toward the crash site. The cloudfront continued its advance. And I noticed a haze beginning to descend onto the road ahead of us. It was fog.
We meandered further inland, the forest thickening around us until the rain almost stopped entirely—the leaves drinking it up before it fell onto our windshield. I kept my eyes on the radar. We were approaching the large yellow circle which indicated we had arrived. As we pulled closer, I began to feel things. Fear. Eeriness. Doubt. Then happiness. Hope. Love. Normally feelings like these had a clear source to picture, but these sensations came on in waves without any discernible reason. It was almost as if they were blinking into existence inside me.
"Here we go," Trent said like an airline pilot readying his crew for turbulence.
I still recall the exact moment we crossed the boundary into the area of higher energy. It was like something just "clicked" in my brain, and all of a sudden everything felt so much closer. The sound of the rain against the trees was almost right next to my ear. The trees in the distance would oscillate between their position a half-mile out, then suddenly seem five meters away. If I focused on something long enough, it began to radiate those same ethereal particles as when Trent released Ava's "phase lock". I checked to make sure the shifter wasn't set to "TD". Sure enough, it was still in drive.
"Can you see them?" Trent asked. "The shifts?"
"Yeah," I said in a dreamy voice. I felt like I was driving through a wonderland.
"It's the energy. I barely notice a difference. A bit of movement in the trees, but not much else. But I'm sure for you, it's a whole experience."
"What is this?" I raised my hand and caught some of the pixel dust dripping off the sun visor. It disappeared when it made contact with my hand.
"It's a kind of radiation. Everything emits it, just in different quantities. I'm still not exactly sure how it relates to the other realms, but I'm guessing it's a kind of primordial matter that helps connect our worlds."
"It's beautiful," I exclaimed. "I wish I could see the world like this all the time."
"Maybe you will," Trent whispered.
As we arrived at the crash site, I began to get glimpses of the past. My childhood dreams and memories were pushing their way out from my subconscious. I noticed an increased number of blinks, which were validated by Ava who reported the following: "Currently detecting 14,350 novel emergences and 2,777 controlled agents. Net anomalies: 2,777."
"That's a lot of blinks." I remarked. "Why doesn't Ava include them in the net anomalies?"
Trent turned his head so I could see his smirk. "Because blinks aren't anomalies."
I thought about it for a second. Blinks aren't anomalies. "I never thought about it that way."
"It's hard to think about it that way when 'normal' for most people means not picking up on a fundamental aspect of reality. But that doesn't make it any less real."
We continued past the epicenter of the yellow circle. "Are we not stopping?" I asked. "I think we already passed the crash site."
"It doesn't have to be exactly at the site," Trent said. "Plus, we don't want to stop on the side of the road and risk getting some civilian involved. There's a field about half a mile up ahead. I'm going to pull off the road and set up camp there.
The "field" that Trent was referring to was actually a large clearing that dipped down into several trench-like troughs which were filled to the brim with fog like witches cauldrons. Further on in the distance, I saw open fields, probably used for farming, and then a large hill where the trees once again reasserted themselves. We had pulled off the road and up a small incline where the trees had already been broken down, leaving a trail for us to drive through. When we surfaced at the edge of the clearing, Trent pulled us onto a flat bed of dried mud which was maybe thirty yards long.
"Here," he said with a sigh.
We both sat for a minute, looking around at the field. We had finally arrived. The rain was beginning to pick up, and the dark sky made it almost impossible to discern the time of day.
"You ready?" Trent asked.
I looked at him. Really looked at him. In his blue eyes. Was I ready? Did it even matter?
"Let's do this," I said.
***
This was the first time I was really able to inspect the back of Trent's van. He had talked up his gear a lot, and honestly, I was impressed. Not in the way that a scientist is impressed by another scientist's lab—I wasn't any kind of expert—but it still seemed remarkably well managed. Now that I was in a state where my vision had been enhanced, I could actually see the enigmatic particles circulating through the pneumatic tubes which were coiled like the pipes and valves of an elaborate wind instrument. The walls of the van, itself, were glistening white, making it easier to make out everything else inside. Along the floor were five overturned columns. Each column was dark and had a vibrating quality, as if they were charged with energy. Then atop the center three columns was a small altar which supported an apparatus with two skinny, metal arms holding a silver halo. At present, the arms were folded and the halo was suspended a few inches above the altar, faced-down. I thought maybe I'd see particles exuding from it, but instead it was emitting visible waves which bent and warped everything they touched.
"That thing is emitting a lot of energy." I remarked, gesturing toward the halo.
Trent stepped in between the columns and started pulling out the packages he had stuffed in there yesterday. "Just wait till' it's on."
Most of the packages contained only a single piece of equipment, and were otherwise packed with foam peanuts. We carefully removed each box and set them on the ground outside. I asked if the rain would damage any of the stuff inside, to which Trent only laughed and continued lugging out the boxes. When they were all out, Trent removed a box cutter from his pocket and went one-by-one opening them. There were eight pieces in total.
"What is it?" I asked as we fished the first item out.
"It's another apparatus, like the one inside. Except it'll mount on the ground out here."
I pulled out what looked like a metal tripod.
"Good, that'll go on the bottom."
"Where are we setting it up?"
"Over here," Trent said and stepped five paces away from the van. He coordinated himself up so he was centrally aligned with the inner ring, then stomped a few times. "This is the spot."
As we continued to work, I asked Trent about how the whole contraption works.
"Do you remember the first time we were in the van? When we had to escape from the semi-truck?" Trent asked and connected a secondary mounting apparatus on top of the tripod. It had four spider-like legs that made right angles and stuck into the ground.
"Of course," I said. "The 'phase lock'."
"Yeah," Trent said and gestured toward the metal stick that was in my hand. I handed it to him. "The phase lock is a seal on the level of energy that the van is allowed to release. It also controls its dispersion pattern so that it releases its energy in a steady wave. This allows Ava to scan for anomalies without causing us to become an anomaly." Trent stuck the plank into the neck of the tripod.
"So when you released the phase lock, we started emitting more energy."
"That's right." Trent confirmed. "Enough to create an alternate route through a different realm."
"So we blinked into a different realm, then back, just to avoid that truck?"
"That's right."
"But why couldn't we just move out of the way?"
"Because it had locked onto us. It was tracking our motion and adjusting its course based on the amount of energy we were emitting. So in order to escape, we had to radically skew our potential energy and then use it to shift."
"Couldn't he have just followed us?"
Trent connected four more pieces to the device which now looked like an elaborate teepee. He was fishing in the last box when he spoke again. "Yeah, he could have. But it was highly improbable that he would have found us." Trent returned from the bottom of the box with another silver ring in hand. "Think of it like this. Let's say you're trying to escape from some bad guy who's coming after you, and you enter a new room you've never seen before. Would you prefer this room to have three doors to go through, or ten?"
I thought about his riddle for a second, then responded, "It depends where they go."
Trent fastened the ring atop the teepee. "Let's say they all lead to random places, or let's say they're all closets that lead nowhere. The key is that more is better, because the more doors he has to check, the less likely he is to pick the correct one. Make sense?"
"So we opened up a bunch of doors and escaped through one at random?"
"Hence the gear 'TD', for 'Trap Door'."
I marveled at the insights, but not for long. Trent hopped back in the van and pulled a lever that I hadn't seen until now. The two metal arms raised the inner ring until it was perpendicular with the altar. Then Trent clicked one of three red buttons along the back wall, and I saw what looked like a large, glass eye suspended in a magnifying glass protruding from the wall, aligned with the center of both rings. A couple seconds later, the glass eye began to focus the energy which was being fed to it from the pneumatic tubes, and a blue pyramid of light projected from it into the first ring, then from the first ring into the second ring. All three pieces were aligned at slightly diminishing heights, so the cylinder of light beamed through the second ring, into the ground.
"Alright, time for the first trial."
I felt the nerves starting up in my stomach. Trent sensed this and hopped out of the truck. It was raining quite hard now, though it was still warm. Both Trent and I were soaked, but that hardly concerned us. He reached out and put his hand on my shoulder. "I know you're feeling scared." He said. "But trust me on this. You're going to do fine. Just keep in mind what we talked about. Stay a spectator. Okay?"
I looked into his blue eyes, which seemed especially gray in the dark. Still, Trent's voice was reassuring. All I had to do was trust him. Trust myself. Trust my dad. And it was all going to turn out right.
"I'm ready," I said.
Trent was still for a second, holding my eyes in his. Then he guided me behind the outer ring and into the cylinder of light.
"I should step into it now?" I asked, afraid I'd be called away immediately.
"It's not on yet, so don't worry. I still have to press another button."
I followed Trent's instructions and stood in the blue light which was centered on my chest. Then I watched as Trent ran into the back of the van and posted up next to the glass eye. "Ready?" He yelled out. It was hard to hear him over the rain, but I yelled back. "Ready!"
The next thing I saw was a blinding blue light beam from the van. I heard what sounded like a laser, then saw the cylinder oscillate, expanding and compressing. When the energy reached the second ring, I saw everything around me light up—it looked brighter than noon on a cloudless day. Then the oscillations made their way to me, and I was swallowed up whole.
***
When I came to, I was in the backseat of a car. I felt my butt rumbling. Everything was dim and quiet. And then I heard a woman's voice from in front of me.
"Mark, please, not with Lauren in the back."
The man, who I now identified as my father, pulled the cigarette away from his lips and blew the smoke at my mom. He eyed the back seat where I was sitting, using one of five markers that hadn't rolled off my lap to color a rabbit in my animal color book.
"The kid's fine." he said and took another drag.
"Mark," my mom repeated.
I saw my dad raise his hand in a rapid motion. "I said she's fine, Cheryl. Now check the map and make sure we're going the right away. I can't see shit with all this fog."
I took a moment to make sure I was really in the back seat. I patted myself. I clearly had weight. Then I tried touching the car. At first, my fingertips met a solid surface, but when I tried to press through, my hand slipped into the car. I quickly pulled my hand away as if I had reached into a fire.
That's when I heard the little three year old next to me start crying. I turned and saw that little-me had dropped another couple markers onto the ground and was struggling to reach them.
"Hey!" my dad shouted. "What did I say about crying?"
"Quit it, Mark. She just dropped her markers." said my mom; she turned to help me pick them up.
"What did you say to me?" Mark spat with a voice full of guile. He reached out and pushed her back into her seat. "Don't," he commanded. "She has to learn how to deal with life."
"Deal…" My mom started in disbelief. "Deal with life? Do you hear yourself? What's gotten into you?"
"Sometimes shit happens. It doesn't give her the right to cry. You helping her is just going to reinforce her behavior."
"Her behavior? What about your behavior? You're acting like a total dick."
I didn't even have a moment to react before my dad's hand was across my mom's face. I felt the slap more than I heard it, my own face seeming to swell with the force of the blow. I saw my mom cover her mouth and lean away. Then little-me began to cry even louder, which only challenged my dad to step up his own volume.
"Everyone needs to get a fucking grip before I crash this car." My dad shouted and took another drag. The scariest part was I couldn't tell if he was warning us or threatening us. I felt the sudden urge to do something. There was no way this was real. I was definitely in some fantasy concocted by the demon. He wanted to turn me against my dad. That was the only explanation for something like this. My dad was a good man, not… this.
As I contemplated what to do, I saw a small, golden light appear behind little-me's window. Apparently she saw it, too, because her cries hushed as she traced the wisp with her eyes. After a second, the wisp transformed into a bunny rabbit, reminiscent of the one she was coloring. The rabbit hopped alongside the window, then did a couple circles in place. I watched little me let out a playful laugh and reach toward the window.
"What's going on back there?" my dad asked with a scowl. Apparently the only sound more disturbing than cries were laughs.
I looked back to the front and saw my mom wiping blood from her lip. Her expression was miserable. "Leave her alone, Mark."
"I'll do whatever I damn well want to do, Cheryl. It's my kid back there."
My mom was quiet.
When I looked back toward the rabbit, it was no longer a rabbit but a person. Or at least it looked like a person. The figure radiated pure gold, and atop his head was what appeared to be a King's crown. I recalled Allison's experience of seeing the sun-like figure in her moment of distress. Was that what was happening here? Was this really all true?
"Hey!" My dad shouted, eyeing little-me from the rear-view mirror. "What are you reaching at?"
I looked and saw the golden figure extending his hand toward the window, and little me's hand was reaching back. "Mom, dad, it bright." little-me said.
"What's bright, honey?" my mom asked.
"Don't encourage her, Cheryl."
"Someone there!" little me shouted happily and dropped the rest of the markers and the coloring book onto the ground.
"Who's there?" asked my mom.
"Cheryl, I swear to God. Sit the fuck down."
Everything from that moment on happened so quickly I barely had any time to process it. My mom lifted out of her seat to either get little me's attention or help me pick up my coloring book. My dad responded by grabbing onto her throat, letting go of the steering wheel entirely. He threw her back against the car door, and her head hit the window so hard, the glass cracked. My dad had dropped his cigarette, and I could smell smoke coming from under his seat, but that didn't seem to bother him at all. He turned toward little-me at the same moment my three-year-old hand reached out and grabbed onto the golden figure, whose hand diffused through the window. When my dad turned, I got a whiff of the most awful smell that I wouldn't have been able to place had I not had that nightmare last night. He grabbed onto little-me's shoulder and tugged her away from the golden figure that was trying to pull her the other way. My dad's facade began to crack, and I could see those dark bugs crawling out from the pores in his arms, marching down toward little-me.
I reacted.
I grabbed onto my dad's arm and pulled him off little-me. I heard the sound of my shirt ripping as she was torn from his grip and pulled out of the car, diffusing through it like a ghost. My brief victory was immediately overturned as I saw what was now clearly the demon smiling at me, his wretched fingers curled around my forearm.
"Caught you," He sneered.
Then the whole world once again diffused into countless numbers of particles, only this time, instead of riding through it, I felt like I was falling through an elevator shaft with each floor darker than the last. The further I fell, the less I became aware of my surroundings, and the more I felt a deep sense of loneliness. It was as if I was the only person in the whole world: and the whole world was a prison designed entirely for me. This went on for so long, I began to forget who I was. Where I was. What was.
And then I landed.
***
Source Used:
Jung, Carl. Synchronicity. Translated by Sonu Shamdasani, Princeton University Press, 2010.

Part 1
Part 2
Part 3
Content Warning: Domestic Abuse
***
We pulled off I-51 a little after midnight, stopping at a truck stop which was couched between the highway and a large forest.
We waited in the van for ten minutes or so. Trent had increased the sonar radius to its maximum of 30 miles a little over an hour ago. Somehow the red pings had kept up with us, holding a steady distance of around 20 miles. Considering we were averaging around 80 mph, and a coyote's top speed is only around 40 mph, we figured they had been enhanced in some way. Either that, or they shape-shifted into something faster. Regardless, now that we had stopped, we waited to see if the demon spawn would try and close the distance. Luckily, or unluckily, they didn't. They kept their 20 mile buffer, but we noticed they were beginning to spread out along the circumference of that boundary.
"We're close. They know that, so they're trying to trap us in." Trent said.
"Trying to?—more like they have."
We considered whether we should stay in the van and keep watch, but we figured that would do us little good. At their speed, they could be on us in ten minutes, which means we would need to stay up all night and keep tabs on their positions. Trent offered to stay up, of course, but I shut him down.
"The demon doesn't want to kill us now. You said it yourself. Plus, we need our rest. If they come, they come."
Trent didn't like it, but he acquiesced.
The truck stop had all the essentials: a gas station and mini mart with showers and an attached McDonald's, a large parking lot for truckers to idle and sleep, and even a section with lodging for those who wanted a more comfortable night's rest. I told Trent that he should take advantage of the showers, and after a little convincing, he agreed. While he was cleaning himself up, I patrolled the dingy, half-stocked aisles of "Daisy's Quick Mart". I probably would have been appalled at the quality of the store had I actually been paying any attention to it whatsoever. But I wasn't. I was thinking hard about what awaited me tomorrow.
During the drive, I had asked Trent why the demon would want us to return to the crash site. What did he mean that I would be 'confronting a dark entity in a place he couldn't help me'? He seemed hesitant to answer, but my little stunt outside the storage facility seemed to have sufficiently motivated him.
"When I said I've never done this before, I meant it." Trent started. "I've never done this exact thing before—meaning I've never projected someone into the past."
"So, I'm time traveling?" I asked.
"No—don't think of it like that." Trent paused, trying to come up with a good explanation. "It's more like I'm opening a window for you to look through: not a door. You're going to see the past, but you can't interact with the physicalities there. But that doesn't mean you can't interact with anything."
There was a space of silence as Trent tried to let me work out his meaning for myself. "I don't get it. Are you saying there's something I can interact with? Like what?" And then it hit me. "The demon. The demon can interact with me? Meaning what? It can kill me?"
"Meaning… I'm not exactly sure. You're going to be in a kind of psychic space. If it does damage, it won't be to your body. It'll be to your mind—or spirit. But I don't know what the limits of that damage could be. I just don't have those answers."
"If you've never done this, how do you know any of it will work?"
"That's an easy one." Trent answered. "Because it's been done to me."
There was silence.
"Look, if I know anything, I know my tech. Don't doubt that this will work. It's my job to make sure it does. I just need you to be in the right mental for this. Just because it knows your coming doesn't mean it automatically has the upper hand. It won't be able to see you unless you make contact with it first. In other words, you have to initiate contact. As long as you remain a spectator, you should be okay. Trust me. Just don't make contact."
I started pacing faster—fast enough to catch the attention of the overnight shift worker, a young man whose name I can't quite remember. I know it started with a "J". Jake, maybe? Anyway, he asked if I was alright, to which I responded in the affirmative. He left me alone for another couple passes, but when I almost ran into one of the shelves, he stood up and said, "Uh—I'm going to have to ask you to stop running around. I don't want you to hurt yourself."
I must have stared daggers at him, because he recoiled from my gaze. What's gotten into me? I thought. Then, steadying myself, I apologized. I looked around and grabbed the nearest edible looking piece of merchandise: a bag of Swedish Fish, and placed it down on the counter. "Just this, please."
The cashier rang me up. It was surprisingly cheap.
"Are you sure you're alright?" the young man asked. He was tall with brown hair. He seemed tired—maybe even more tired than me. But he also seemed kind.
I smiled as best I could and said, "No, I'm not. But there's not really anything you can do. Hell, there might not be anything I can do." I furrowed my eyebrows at my own response, realizing that imminent death may have broken my verbal filter.
On the other hand, the cashier did not seem surprised at all. "Ah, I see. It's one of those problems." He responded. "Well, hey, for what it's worth, you seem like one of the resilient ones. I think you'll be alright."
I only smiled and nodded at his mildly cryptic comment. Looking back, the whole interaction was a bit strange, but I had way too much mental clutter to recognize that in the moment. I took my Swedish Fish and walked through the anteroom which led to McDonald's. I found an open yellow booth that wasn't littered with crumpled straw sleeves and sat down, chomping mindlessly on my little red fish until Trent returned. When he arrived, he took my place, and I went to shower. After we were both clean and fed, we returned to the van. The pings were still pushed safely out of harm's way. But that didn't mean we were out of harm's way. Trent asked me if I wanted to sleep in the van, saying that "it'd be the safest place."
I thought it over. He was right, obviously. The van was not only outfitted with weapons I couldn't even begin to understand, but it was also our escape, and it would be just as difficult, if not more difficult to break into than the studio-style motel rooms with their wood doors and big windows. Still, if this was going to be my last night on earth, I wanted to sleep in a bed. A real bed. Trent understood and said he'd stay parked right outside my room for the night.
After purchasing a key from the night attendant, I moseyed over to the cement walkways which connected the twenty or so rooms. Mine was room #56, which I thought was odd since, like I said, there were only 20 rooms. I lugged in my tomato plushie and dad's old book and placed them on the queen mattress.
"I'll be right outside." Trent said after I collapsed onto the bed.
"Trent," I called out, stopping him half-way through the door.
"Yeah?"
All the blood in my body rushed up to my face as I realized my unfiltered mouth almost reflexively said the word "stay". I stared at Trent, my heart beating, my face hot. I considered asking him to sleep on the floor like my dad, but that would be childish and impolite. The alternative was to share my bed… Or I could take the floor.
"I'll just be right outside." Trent said before my mind processed a solution. "Come by if you need anything. I'll be up most of the night anyway."
"Okay," I replied in a faint voice.
Trent shut the door.
I sat atop the bedsheets and acquainted myself with my new living space. A feeling of regret closed over me as I considered that even sleeping on a carseat would have been better if it meant I didn't have to be alone. With a sigh, I turned on the bedside lamp and grabbed the book and stuffed tomato, using the tomato as a backrest as I slipped my legs under the covers and situated the book upright on my thighs. I cracked it open and was immediately blasted with a puff of dusty, old book scent. It was ripe at first, and I turned my head away to sneeze, but as I perused through the pages, the scent grew on me. It reminded me of the days growing up when I'd step into dad's study and read through one of the many volumes on cryptic topics which were at least two college degrees above my Lexile range.
I was only a couple minutes into browsing the collection of different scientific and philosophical works when I came across a page which contained highlighted text. This was unusual, as my dad would never mark up his books. He was a purist on that point. I rubbed my thumb over the yellow lines, and sure enough, it was highlighter.
The highlighted text was part of a small book by Carl Jung called "Synchronicity". There were a total of three pages that were marked, and they advanced like this:
Page 5:
The philosophical principle that underlies our conception of natural law is causality*. But if the connection between cause and effect turns out to be only statistically valid and relatively true, then the causal principle is only of relative use for explaining natural processes… That is as much to say that the connection of events may in certain circumstances be other than causal, and require another principle of explanation.*
Page 19:
…there are events which are related to one another experimentally, and in this case meaningfully*, without there being any possibility of proving that this relation is a causal one, since the "transmission" exhibits none of the known properties of energy…a situation which does not yet exist and will only occur in the future could transmit itself as a phenomenon of energy to a receiver in the present…Therefore, it cannot be a question of cause and effect, but of a falling together in time, a kind of simultaneity... "synchronicity"*
Page 22:
A young woman I was treating had, at a critical moment, a dream in which she was given a golden scarab. While she was telling me this dream I sat with my back to the closed window. Suddenly I heard a noise behind me, like a gentle tapping. I turned round and saw a flying insect knocking against the window pane from outside. I opened the window and caught the creature in the air as it flew in. It was the nearest analogy to a golden scarab that one finds in our latitudes, a scarabaeid beetle, the common rose-chafer… which contrary to its usual habits had evidently felt an urge to get into a dark room at this particular moment.
I flipped through the rest of the pages of the book. There was no more highlighted text, but there was a message on the last page which read:
Matthew 7:7-8
I'll meet you in the darkest place.
He also included his typical smiley face which had an ovular shape and three sprouts of hair which I now realized kind of resembled my tomato plushie. It was my dad's writing, of course. But why? And how? What did this mean?
The motel had a Bible stashed away in the nighstand drawer. I got it out and looked up the verses which read the following:
Ask, and it shall be given you; seek, and ye shall find; knock, and it shall be opened unto you: for every one that asketh receiveth; and he that seeketh findeth; and to him that knocketh it shall be opened.
I spent maybe an hour ruminating on all of this. The whole discourse on energy and causality and a "falling together in time" just seemed so right. It was clear that my dad definitely did know what I was going through, but for whatever reason, he made it seem like he was oblivious. Why had he hidden that from me? I felt like I was being pulled in two directions. On the one hand, my dad loved me enough to leave this note, maybe even knowing the exact moment I'd need it. But on the other hand, he had neglected my struggles throughout my entire childhood. He even lied at times. Was this really enough to make up for all of that?
And then there was the section about the future transmitting energy to the past. I read back through the whole paragraph and the original writer had meant it to say this as something that wasn't possible, but my dad's highlighting made it seem like he wanted to flip the meaning. The future does affect the past. I thought about where I was headed and wondered if I would soon discover that for myself.
Lastly, dad's message. The Bible verse reminded me of the first time I prayed; how I reached out to God and received peace as an answer to my prayer. Now I feel like I'm actively seeking… something, but I don't know yet what I'll find. And then there's knocking. At first that reminded me of the story with the beetle tapping on the window, but then I went back even deeper in my memory and dug out the monster tapping at my window, and the words my dad spoke to me in order to set my mind at ease: "you're a superhero. And you know what your greatest superpower is? Your greatest power is you get to tell the monsters what to do. Because the monsters are only as strong as the stories you tell about them…so if you're ever scared, honey, just dream up a better story."
I was crying into my stuffed tomato now. I felt like all the blinking pieces of my life had finally been pulled together into a completed puzzle. This was all by design. My entire life, filled with so much chaos and confusion, was actually preparing me for this moment. And my dad thought I had the tools and strength enough to get through it. I flipped through the book one more time, thinking maybe he had left some other hidden comment—some formula to defeat this demon and return home. But there was nothing. Only that one comment: "I'll meet you in the darkest place."
What's the darkest place, dad? Is that where I'm going? Are you saying you'll be there, too?
With those thoughts in mind, my eyes became heavy shutters which, with a slight pressure on the pulley, winded shut. My swimming thoughts and firework-like fears dissipated, and I returned to a precious childhood memory. It was after an evening soccer practice. Summer. Dad was driving me to Dairy Queen. I got a cherry-dipped twist cone. I was happy.
So, so happy.
***
I woke up to sunlight blaring through my windows. Shit, I overslept, was my immediate thought. I threw off my covers and opened the front door. A glance at the clock showed 1:13 PM. I shouldn't have even been allowed to stay checked in this long. Damn, am I gonna get double-billed for this?
I heard a rummaging sound around the corner of my motel room. It sounded like a squirrel was trying to find an afternoon snack in one of the garbage bins. I stepped outside. The sun was extremely bright, to the point where I had to squint and put my hand over my eyes to even see the ground in front of me. I was trying to walk toward the van, but somehow I ended up in front of the trash bins where the animal's tail was sticking out from a turned-over, silver garbage can. Its tail was wagging excitedly, and I remember thinking that it was much too large to be a squirrel.
The animal bent down as if biting onto something, and I heard the sound of its growl as it struggled to tug whatever it was free from the barrel. Inch by inch, the creature backed out of the canister, and more of its sharp, sticky hair was revealed. I heard something snap, then the creature leapt back and I saw what it was chomping on. My eyes widened in horror as the pink tube of a human intestine was pulled taut like the end of a tangled hose. Blood and entrails were spilling out of the human's opened gut. And then, behind the canine, I saw the person's face. His face was pale white, his eyes closed, and his hair was slicked back… It was Trent.
Before I could react, I heard footsteps approaching from behind. I whirled around and saw my dad. But—no, it wasn't him. It was someone wearing a paper-mache face mask that was painted to look like my dad. The forehead of the mask was already beginning to crack, white specks breaking off like sawdust. Through the cracks, I could see the figure's true form. I didn't know darkness had its own type of light, but that's the only way to describe it. It was as if malevolence itself was reified into a skin which was actually an amalgamation of millions of little, oozing parasites that leached into the nearby light. When it finally spoke, the demon's voice was a full octave lower than the old man's at the deli. And it had an earth-stilling gravitas.
"Today's the day!" He sang and reached into his pocket. His lips curled upward into a foxy smirk. "You have no idea how long I've waited for this day." He said and held up a razor blade. Half his facade had already fallen apart, and now I could see the bugs up close, writhing in what was either horror or ecstasy. And his scent… it was somehow more rank than the rabid coyote rummaging through the trash can with Trent's cut open body inside. The demon closed in on my position, and in one, decisive motion, he brought the blade close to his chin, then sliced it across my throat. "Wake up!" He screamed.
I jumped out of my bed and grabbed my throat, feeling the cold sting of its quick slice. Hyperventilating, I patted the area down, trying to hold the blood in, but when I removed my hands, I saw they were dry. It was only a dream, I thought. Gray light was only beginning to filter in through the drapes. I'm in my hotel room. I'm safe. I tried consoling, but the pragmatic mental massages weren't enough to hold the force of my knees buckling. I dropped onto the carpet and cried for a long while.
Outside, rain was beginning to fall.
***
By the time I met up with Trent, I had already composed myself and decided to keep my dad's message and the nightmare to myself. None of it seemed particularly productive from a logistical standpoint, anyway. And I wanted to focus on the mission.
We stopped by McDonald's and bought a couple cups of coffee. Trent asked if I wanted any food, and I declined. Black coffee seemed like the only thing my stomach could take at the present moment. I could tell Trent was hungry, but he tried playing it off (I guess to be respectful of me?) I told him to knock it off and get something to eat. I didn't need my Charon getting lightheaded and dropping the paddle before he finished rowing me to Hell. He didn't care much for my joke, but he ordered a couple Chicken McGriddles at the kiosk anyway.
There were maybe ten patrons spread throughout the restaurant. We sat down at the same booth from the prior night, this time across from one another. Trent spent the first ten minutes or so babbling about our fuel supply and the logistics of the trip from here on in. Practical stuff. I've come to realize that's how he deals with his stress. He talks it out in short, durable sentences. I mostly nodded and watched as what looked like a storm front closed in on the truck stop. The sky was overcast, and there were darker clouds in the distance. The rain was still only a patter, but a middle-aged man wearing a yellow bow tie on the wall-mounted TV confirmed that there would be heavier rain and thunderstorms very soon.
After the worker delivered Trent's food and he ate it in record time, I posed the one question that was still on my mind.
"How do I fight him?" I asked.
Trent finished a large gulp of his coffee, then looked at me. It was the first substantial thing I'd said all morning; Trent could tell something was off with me, but he figured there was no point in asking what it was. "By 'him', I assume you mean the demon?"
I nodded.
Trent licked his teeth clean. "You could try praying again."
"I'm serious," I responded.
"I'm serious, too. It worked before, didn't it?"
"You mean at my house?"
Trent nodded.
"I thought you weren't a religious man?"
"I'm not. Just a practical one. If praying worked before, maybe it'll work again."
"That's the best you've got? A maybe?"
"No, I've got a lot of shit better than a maybe." He answered. "It's just not accessible where you're going. Which is why I recommend not making contact on the first run."
"First run? So we're going to do this more than once?"
"At least," Trent answered. Then, seeing my expression, he continued. "What? You thought this was going to be a one-and-done? We have to conduct some research first. I did tell you this was new for me, right?"
Somehow Trent's response had set my mind at ease a little. I was going to have more than one chance. Of course, why wouldn't I be able to go back more than once?
"Why didn't you tell me this earlier? It would have gone a long way in easing my mind."
Trent lifted his hands in defense. "Sorry, I just thought that was a given. I mean, what we're doing is dangerous, just like I said, but it doesn't mean we aren't going to approach this as safely and scientifically as possible. However, there is a different problem with running multiple trials."
"The Organization?"
"That's right," Trent said like a proud parent. "Our little experiment will be like a giant spotlight, and the longer we wait around after it's on us, the greater the chance we'll have unwelcome company."
"So, safe but speedy."
"Safe but speedy. Exactly."
***
We fueled up and were back on the road a little after 8:00. From that point on, Trent and I were absolutely silent. I had the distinct feeling of being in the eye of a storm. The pings moved closer commensurate with our progress toward the crash site. The cloudfront continued its advance. And I noticed a haze beginning to descend onto the road ahead of us. It was fog.
We meandered further inland, the forest thickening around us until the rain almost stopped entirely—the leaves drinking it up before it fell onto our windshield. I kept my eyes on the radar. We were approaching the large yellow circle which indicated we had arrived. As we pulled closer, I began to feel things. Fear. Eeriness. Doubt. Then happiness. Hope. Love. Normally feelings like these had a clear source to picture, but these sensations came on in waves without any discernible reason. It was almost as if they were blinking into existence inside me.
"Here we go," Trent said like an airline pilot readying his crew for turbulence.
I still recall the exact moment we crossed the boundary into the area of higher energy. It was like something just "clicked" in my brain, and all of a sudden everything felt so much closer. The sound of the rain against the trees was almost right next to my ear. The trees in the distance would oscillate between their position a half-mile out, then suddenly seem five meters away. If I focused on something long enough, it began to radiate those same ethereal particles as when Trent released Ava's "phase lock". I checked to make sure the shifter wasn't set to "TD". Sure enough, it was still in drive.
"Can you see them?" Trent asked. "The shifts?"
"Yeah," I said in a dreamy voice. I felt like I was driving through a wonderland.
"It's the energy. I barely notice a difference. A bit of movement in the trees, but not much else. But I'm sure for you, it's a whole experience."
"What is this?" I raised my hand and caught some of the pixel dust dripping off the sun visor. It disappeared when it made contact with my hand.
"It's a kind of radiation. Everything emits it, just in different quantities. I'm still not exactly sure how it relates to the other realms, but I'm guessing it's a kind of primordial matter that helps connect our worlds."
"It's beautiful," I exclaimed. "I wish I could see the world like this all the time."
"Maybe you will," Trent whispered.
As we arrived at the crash site, I began to get glimpses of the past. My childhood dreams and memories were pushing their way out from my subconscious. I noticed an increased number of blinks, which were validated by Ava who reported the following: "Currently detecting 14,350 novel emergences and 2,777 controlled agents. Net anomalies: 2,777."
"That's a lot of blinks." I remarked. "Why doesn't Ava include them in the net anomalies?"
Trent turned his head so I could see his smirk. "Because blinks aren't anomalies."
I thought about it for a second. Blinks aren't anomalies. "I never thought about it that way."
"It's hard to think about it that way when 'normal' for most people means not picking up on a fundamental aspect of reality. But that doesn't make it any less real."
We continued past the epicenter of the yellow circle. "Are we not stopping?" I asked. "I think we already passed the crash site."
"It doesn't have to be exactly at the site," Trent said. "Plus, we don't want to stop on the side of the road and risk getting some civilian involved. There's a field about half a mile up ahead. I'm going to pull off the road and set up camp there.
The "field" that Trent was referring to was actually a large clearing that dipped down into several trench-like troughs which were filled to the brim with fog like witches cauldrons. Further on in the distance, I saw open fields, probably used for farming, and then a large hill where the trees once again reasserted themselves. We had pulled off the road and up a small incline where the trees had already been broken down, leaving a trail for us to drive through. When we surfaced at the edge of the clearing, Trent pulled us onto a flat bed of dried mud which was maybe thirty yards long.
"Here," he said with a sigh.
We both sat for a minute, looking around at the field. We had finally arrived. The rain was beginning to pick up, and the dark sky made it almost impossible to discern the time of day.
"You ready?" Trent asked.
I looked at him. Really looked at him. In his blue eyes. Was I ready? Did it even matter?
"Let's do this," I said.
***
This was the first time I was really able to inspect the back of Trent's van. He had talked up his gear a lot, and honestly, I was impressed. Not in the way that a scientist is impressed by another scientist's lab—I wasn't any kind of expert—but it still seemed remarkably well managed. Now that I was in a state where my vision had been enhanced, I could actually see the enigmatic particles circulating through the pneumatic tubes which were coiled like the pipes and valves of an elaborate wind instrument. The walls of the van, itself, were glistening white, making it easier to make out everything else inside. Along the floor were five overturned columns. Each column was dark and had a vibrating quality, as if they were charged with energy. Then atop the center three columns was a small altar which supported an apparatus with two skinny, metal arms holding a silver halo. At present, the arms were folded and the halo was suspended a few inches above the altar, faced-down. I thought maybe I'd see particles exuding from it, but instead it was emitting visible waves which bent and warped everything they touched.
"That thing is emitting a lot of energy." I remarked, gesturing toward the halo.
Trent stepped in between the columns and started pulling out the packages he had stuffed in there yesterday. "Just wait till' it's on."
Most of the packages contained only a single piece of equipment, and were otherwise packed with foam peanuts. We carefully removed each box and set them on the ground outside. I asked if the rain would damage any of the stuff inside, to which Trent only laughed and continued lugging out the boxes. When they were all out, Trent removed a box cutter from his pocket and went one-by-one opening them. There were eight pieces in total.
"What is it?" I asked as we fished the first item out.
"It's another apparatus, like the one inside. Except it'll mount on the ground out here."
I pulled out what looked like a metal tripod.
"Good, that'll go on the bottom."
"Where are we setting it up?"
"Over here," Trent said and stepped five paces away from the van. He coordinated himself up so he was centrally aligned with the inner ring, then stomped a few times. "This is the spot."
As we continued to work, I asked Trent about how the whole contraption works.
"Do you remember the first time we were in the van? When we had to escape from the semi-truck?" Trent asked and connected a secondary mounting apparatus on top of the tripod. It had four spider-like legs that made right angles and stuck into the ground.
"Of course," I said. "The 'phase lock'."
"Yeah," Trent said and gestured toward the metal stick that was in my hand. I handed it to him. "The phase lock is a seal on the level of energy that the van is allowed to release. It also controls its dispersion pattern so that it releases its energy in a steady wave. This allows Ava to scan for anomalies without causing us to become an anomaly." Trent stuck the plank into the neck of the tripod.
"So when you released the phase lock, we started emitting more energy."
"That's right." Trent confirmed. "Enough to create an alternate route through a different realm."
"So we blinked into a different realm, then back, just to avoid that truck?"
"That's right."
"But why couldn't we just move out of the way?"
"Because it had locked onto us. It was tracking our motion and adjusting its course based on the amount of energy we were emitting. So in order to escape, we had to radically skew our potential energy and then use it to shift."
"Couldn't he have just followed us?"
Trent connected four more pieces to the device which now looked like an elaborate teepee. He was fishing in the last box when he spoke again. "Yeah, he could have. But it was highly improbable that he would have found us." Trent returned from the bottom of the box with another silver ring in hand. "Think of it like this. Let's say you're trying to escape from some bad guy who's coming after you, and you enter a new room you've never seen before. Would you prefer this room to have three doors to go through, or ten?"
I thought about his riddle for a second, then responded, "It depends where they go."
Trent fastened the ring atop the teepee. "Let's say they all lead to random places, or let's say they're all closets that lead nowhere. The key is that more is better, because the more doors he has to check, the less likely he is to pick the correct one. Make sense?"
"So we opened up a bunch of doors and escaped through one at random?"
"Hence the gear 'TD', for 'Trap Door'."
I marveled at the insights, but not for long. Trent hopped back in the van and pulled a lever that I hadn't seen until now. The two metal arms raised the inner ring until it was perpendicular with the altar. Then Trent clicked one of three red buttons along the back wall, and I saw what looked like a large, glass eye suspended in a magnifying glass protruding from the wall, aligned with the center of both rings. A couple seconds later, the glass eye began to focus the energy which was being fed to it from the pneumatic tubes, and a blue pyramid of light projected from it into the first ring, then from the first ring into the second ring. All three pieces were aligned at slightly diminishing heights, so the cylinder of light beamed through the second ring, into the ground.
"Alright, time for the first trial."
I felt the nerves starting up in my stomach. Trent sensed this and hopped out of the truck. It was raining quite hard now, though it was still warm. Both Trent and I were soaked, but that hardly concerned us. He reached out and put his hand on my shoulder. "I know you're feeling scared." He said. "But trust me on this. You're going to do fine. Just keep in mind what we talked about. Stay a spectator. Okay?"
I looked into his blue eyes, which seemed especially gray in the dark. Still, Trent's voice was reassuring. All I had to do was trust him. Trust myself. Trust my dad. And it was all going to turn out right.
"I'm ready," I said.
Trent was still for a second, holding my eyes in his. Then he guided me behind the outer ring and into the cylinder of light.
"I should step into it now?" I asked, afraid I'd be called away immediately.
"It's not on yet, so don't worry. I still have to press another button."
I followed Trent's instructions and stood in the blue light which was centered on my chest. Then I watched as Trent ran into the back of the van and posted up next to the glass eye. "Ready?" He yelled out. It was hard to hear him over the rain, but I yelled back. "Ready!"
The next thing I saw was a blinding blue light beam from the van. I heard what sounded like a laser, then saw the cylinder oscillate, expanding and compressing. When the energy reached the second ring, I saw everything around me light up—it looked brighter than noon on a cloudless day. Then the oscillations made their way to me, and I was swallowed up whole.
***
When I came to, I was in the backseat of a car. I felt my butt rumbling. Everything was dim and quiet. And then I heard a woman's voice from in front of me.
"Mark, please, not with Lauren in the back."
The man, who I now identified as my father, pulled the cigarette away from his lips and blew the smoke at my mom. He eyed the back seat where I was sitting, using one of five markers that hadn't rolled off my lap to color a rabbit in my animal color book.
"The kid's fine." he said and took another drag.
"Mark," my mom repeated.
I saw my dad raise his hand in a rapid motion. "I said she's fine, Cheryl. Now check the map and make sure we're going the right away. I can't see shit with all this fog."
I took a moment to make sure I was really in the back seat. I patted myself. I clearly had weight. Then I tried touching the car. At first, my fingertips met a solid surface, but when I tried to press through, my hand slipped into the car. I quickly pulled my hand away as if I had reached into a fire.
That's when I heard the little three year old next to me start crying. I turned and saw that little-me had dropped another couple markers onto the ground and was struggling to reach them.
"Hey!" my dad shouted. "What did I say about crying?"
"Quit it, Mark. She just dropped her markers." said my mom; she turned to help me pick them up.
"What did you say to me?" Mark spat with a voice full of guile. He reached out and pushed her back into her seat. "Don't," he commanded. "She has to learn how to deal with life."
"Deal…" My mom started in disbelief. "Deal with life? Do you hear yourself? What's gotten into you?"
"Sometimes shit happens. It doesn't give her the right to cry. You helping her is just going to reinforce her behavior."
"Her behavior? What about your behavior? You're acting like a total dick."
I didn't even have a moment to react before my dad's hand was across my mom's face. I felt the slap more than I heard it, my own face seeming to swell with the force of the blow. I saw my mom cover her mouth and lean away. Then little-me began to cry even louder, which only challenged my dad to step up his own volume.
"Everyone needs to get a fucking grip before I crash this car." My dad shouted and took another drag. The scariest part was I couldn't tell if he was warning us or threatening us. I felt the sudden urge to do something. There was no way this was real. I was definitely in some fantasy concocted by the demon. He wanted to turn me against my dad. That was the only explanation for something like this. My dad was a good man, not… this.
As I contemplated what to do, I saw a small, golden light appear behind little-me's window. Apparently she saw it, too, because her cries hushed as she traced the wisp with her eyes. After a second, the wisp transformed into a bunny rabbit, reminiscent of the one she was coloring. The rabbit hopped alongside the window, then did a couple circles in place. I watched little me let out a playful laugh and reach toward the window.
"What's going on back there?" my dad asked with a scowl. Apparently the only sound more disturbing than cries were laughs.
I looked back to the front and saw my mom wiping blood from her lip. Her expression was miserable. "Leave her alone, Mark."
"I'll do whatever I damn well want to do, Cheryl. It's my kid back there."
My mom was quiet.
When I looked back toward the rabbit, it was no longer a rabbit but a person. Or at least it looked like a person. The figure radiated pure gold, and atop his head was what appeared to be a King's crown. I recalled Allison's experience of seeing the sun-like figure in her moment of distress. Was that what was happening here? Was this really all true?
"Hey!" My dad shouted, eyeing little-me from the rear-view mirror. "What are you reaching at?"
I looked and saw the golden figure extending his hand toward the window, and little me's hand was reaching back. "Mom, dad, it bright." little-me said.
"What's bright, honey?" my mom asked.
"Don't encourage her, Cheryl."
"Someone there!" little me shouted happily and dropped the rest of the markers and the coloring book onto the ground.
"Who's there?" asked my mom.
"Cheryl, I swear to God. Sit the fuck down."
Everything from that moment on happened so quickly I barely had any time to process it. My mom lifted out of her seat to either get little me's attention or help me pick up my coloring book. My dad responded by grabbing onto her throat, letting go of the steering wheel entirely. He threw her back against the car door, and her head hit the window so hard, the glass cracked. My dad had dropped his cigarette, and I could smell smoke coming from under his seat, but that didn't seem to bother him at all. He turned toward little-me at the same moment my three-year-old hand reached out and grabbed onto the golden figure, whose hand diffused through the window. When my dad turned, I got a whiff of the most awful smell that I wouldn't have been able to place had I not had that nightmare last night. He grabbed onto little-me's shoulder and tugged her away from the golden figure that was trying to pull her the other way. My dad's facade began to crack, and I could see those dark bugs crawling out from the pores in his arms, marching down toward little-me.
I reacted.
I grabbed onto my dad's arm and pulled him off little-me. I heard the sound of my shirt ripping as she was torn from his grip and pulled out of the car, diffusing through it like a ghost. My brief victory was immediately overturned as I saw what was now clearly the demon smiling at me, his wretched fingers curled around my forearm.
"Caught you," He sneered.
Then the whole world once again diffused into countless numbers of particles, only this time, instead of riding through it, I felt like I was falling through an elevator shaft with each floor darker than the last. The further I fell, the less I became aware of my surroundings, and the more I felt a deep sense of loneliness. It was as if I was the only person in the whole world: and the whole world was a prison designed entirely for me. This went on for so long, I began to forget who I was. Where I was. What was.
And then I landed.
***
Source Used:
Jung, Carl. Synchronicity. Translated by Sonu Shamdasani, Princeton University Press, 2010.

A Guide to Sending Select Box Values via Email with PHPMailer

Integrating user input from a web form into an email can be a vital functionality for websites that require interaction with their users. One common challenge developers face is sending the value of a dropdown menu to an email using backend technologies like PHPMailer. This process involves capturing the user's selection from the frontend, passing it securely to the server, and formatting it into an email. PHPMailer, a popular library used for sending emails securely via PHP, offers a reliable way to accomplish this. However, the specifics of implementing such functionality can sometimes be tricky, especially for those new to web development or PHPMailer.
In practice, achieving this involves several steps: constructing a well-formed HTML form, ensuring the selected value is correctly passed to the PHP backend, and utilizing PHPMailer to format and send the email. While the frontend part might seem straightforward, ensuring the backend correctly receives and processes the data requires careful attention. This guide aims to demystify the process, providing a clear pathway from user selection to email delivery. By understanding how to effectively use PHPMailer for email sending tasks, developers can enhance their web applications' interactivity and user engagement.

Command	Description
$(document).ready(function() {});	Initializes jQuery code to run once the HTML document is fully loaded.
$('#myForm').submit(function(e) {});	Binds an event handler to the "submit" event for the form with id "myForm".
e.preventDefault();	Prevents the default action of the form submission to allow for AJAX processing.
$('#country').val();	Gets the value of the select element with id "country".
$.ajax({});	Performs an asynchronous HTTP (Ajax) request.
$('#country').css('border', '1px solid red');	Sets the CSS border property of the select element to "1px solid red".
new PHPMailer(true);	Creates a new PHPMailer instance with exception handling enabled.
$mail->isSMTP();	Tells PHPMailer to use SMTP.
$mail->Host = 'smtp.example.com';	Sets the SMTP server to connect to.
$mail->SMTPAuth = true;	Enables SMTP authentication.
$mail->Username and $mail->Password	Sets the SMTP username and password for authentication.
$mail->SMTPSecure = PHPMailer::ENCRYPTION_STARTTLS;	Sets the encryption system to use (STARTTLS).
$mail->Port = 587;	Sets the TCP port to connect to.
$mail->setFrom();	Sets the sender email address and name.
$mail->addAddress();	Adds a recipient to the email.
$mail->isHTML(true);	Sets email format to HTML.
$mail->Subject;	Sets the subject of the email.
$mail->Body;	Sets the HTML message body of the email.
$mail->send();	Sends the email message.
catch (Exception $e) {}	Catches any exception thrown by PHPMailer during the process.

Enhancing Form Data Handling and Email Security

When dealing with form data, especially in scenarios where this data is transmitted over email, security becomes a primary concern. It's crucial to validate and sanitize user inputs to prevent common vulnerabilities such as cross-site scripting (XSS) and SQL injection. This aspect of web development is often overlooked but is paramount for maintaining the integrity of the data and the security of the system. PHP provides various functions to filter and sanitize user inputs, such as `filter_var()` and `htmlspecialchars()`. Implementing these functions can significantly reduce the risk of malicious data compromising your application. Additionally, when dealing with email sending functionalities, it is important to ensure that the email content is properly encoded and that any attachments are scanned for malware.
Another critical aspect to consider is the use of secure connections for transmitting data, both to the server and when sending emails. For data submission, implementing HTTPS with SSL/TLS encryption ensures that the data exchanged between the client and server is encrypted. Similarly, when configuring PHPMailer or any email sending library, it's advised to use secure protocols like SMTPS or STARTTLS to encrypt the email traffic. This approach safeguards against eavesdropping and ensures that sensitive information remains confidential during its journey through the internet. Lastly, keeping your PHPMailer library up to date is essential to protect against known vulnerabilities and benefit from the latest security features.

Implementing Dropdown Value Emailing with PHPMailer

HTML and JavaScript for User Interface

 Country  -Select- United States Canada  Send An Email 
   

Backend Handling with PHPMailer for Email Dispatch

PHP for Server-Side Processing

isSMTP(); $mail->Host = 'smtp.example.com'; $mail->SMTPAuth = true; $mail->Username = 'your_email@example.com'; $mail->Password = 'your_password'; $mail->SMTPSecure = PHPMailer::ENCRYPTION_STARTTLS; $mail->Port = 587; //Recipients $mail->setFrom('from@example.com', 'Mailer'); $mail->addAddress('recipient@example.com', 'Joe User'); //Content $mail->isHTML(true); $mail->Subject = 'Country Selection'; $mail->Body = 'The selected country is: '.$country; $mail->send(); echo 'Message has been sent'; } catch (Exception $e) { echo "Message could not be sent. Mailer Error: {$mail->ErrorInfo}"; } ?> 

Optimizing User Experience in Form Submission and Email Interaction

Improving user experience (UX) during form submission and subsequent email interaction plays a pivotal role in engaging and retaining users. A well-designed form not only facilitates a smoother data collection process but also significantly enhances the users' perception of a website. Implementing real-time validation, clear instructions, and immediate feedback on form fields can reduce errors and frustration. Moreover, utilizing AJAX for form submission without requiring a page reload offers a seamless experience, keeping users engaged with the content. This approach, combined with a visually appealing and intuitive interface, can greatly improve the user's journey from filling out a form to receiving a confirmation email.
In the realm of email interaction, personalization and clarity are key. Emails triggered by form submissions should be crafted to address the user by name, provide a clear summary of the submitted data, and outline the next steps or what to expect. This builds trust and confirms to the user that their action was successful. Additionally, ensuring emails are responsive and well-formatted for all devices is crucial, as a significant portion of users access their emails on mobile devices. Thoughtful touches, such as including a link to view the email in a web browser, can accommodate users' diverse preferences and tech environments, further enhancing the overall experience.

FAQs on Implementing PHPMailer for Form Submissions

1. Question: Can PHPMailer send emails using Gmail?
2. Answer: Yes, PHPMailer can be configured to send emails through Gmail by setting the SMTP settings to Gmail's SMTP server and using your Gmail account credentials.
3. Question: Is it secure to use PHPMailer for sending sensitive information?
4. Answer: Yes, when properly configured, PHPMailer supports SMTPS and STARTTLS encryption protocols, ensuring that the email content is encrypted during transmission.
5. Question: How do I attach files to an email using PHPMailer?
6. Answer: You can attach files using the `$mail->addAttachment()` method, specifying the path to the file and optionally the name of the file as it should appear in the email.
7. Question: Can PHPMailer send emails to multiple recipients?
8. Answer: Yes, PHPMailer allows adding multiple recipients by calling the `$mail->addAddress()` method for each recipient's email address.
9. Question: How do I troubleshoot PHPMailer errors?
10. Answer: PHPMailer provides detailed error messages through the `$mail->ErrorInfo` property. Ensure error reporting is enabled in your PHP script to view these messages and diagnose issues.

Wrapping Up the Integration of PHPMailer for Enhanced Web Interactions

Concluding our exploration of utilizing PHPMailer for handling dropdown values in web forms, we've traversed from the basic setup to advanced considerations encompassing security, user experience, and troubleshooting. PHPMailer emerges as a robust tool, offering versatility and security for email transmission tasks within PHP-based applications. It facilitates not just the email sending process but also brings a layer of professionalism and reliability to form submissions, ensuring data reaches its destination securely and efficiently. By implementing the practices and codes provided, developers can elevate their web applications, offering users a seamless and secure interaction experience. Moreover, staying vigilant about security measures and continuously improving the user experience based on feedback are pivotal steps toward maintaining and enhancing the efficacy of web forms and email communication. This comprehensive guide serves as a foundation for developers to build upon, encouraging further exploration and customization to meet the unique requirements of their projects and user base.
https://www.tempmail.us.com/en/phpmailehow-to-capture-and-email-dropdown-selections-using-phpmailer

Previous part: 8.99.
The Jonsie Burrows: Help Wanted 2: Tables of contents
​
One thing that I'm not getting here is why Vanessa is even a part of Vanny or Glitchtrap's situation since Double-V is true. When I originally thought up Double-V, I was originally thinking that Vanessa and Vanny were two different people and/or were sharing the role of "Vanny".
It's just one of them was more willing than the other to be a part of Glitcthtrap's machinations than the other. I didn't put too much thought into it, but it was something I wanted to look for until that Security Team revelation came about.
But now, I'm left with this puzzle piece called Vanessa that I'm not quite sure what to do with now that I know that Vanny is an entirely separate person from her.
She has to be involved with Vanny and Gltichtrap somehow. Maybe the therapy tapes will help.

• CD 1-Therapist: — but a routine check of your online history has revealed that you spend quite a bit of time with someone in an encrypted conversation. We have transcripts, and I’ve read them, but it’s not clear what you’re talking about in these conversations. I can’t make sense of it. You must be getting something from these that I’m not getting. Right? Who are you talking to in these?

These are all things that would've pointed toward Glitchtrap if I didn't know better. So it's someone else doing this? Why and why her?

• CD 5-Therapist: — Apparently, the IT department has put together a pretty lengthy report chronicling non-job-related communications that have been coming to your computer. — what bothers me about what I read is that the messages you're getting seem very manipulative in nature. —You know who I'm talking about. What you might not know is that this person who's been sending you messages has been hacking into your personal files too.
• CD 5-Vanessa: Lots of people know more than I do. Sometimes I need to listen.

So Vanessa knows who's doing this to her or think she knows. But she's been refusing to listen to them before and is now being worn down by the spamming messages sent to her. But the fact that she doesn't react to the news that they are digging into her personal life is very concerning!
Also, after going through Vanny's secret dialogue in Help Wanted, Vanessa's overall demeanor in both Security Breach and the Retro Cds clashes hard with Vanny's in both games. Where Vanny sounds and reads eager and nervous, Vanessa is defiant and reluctant with depressed undertones.
Is Vanessa really infected with Glitchtrap?
Yet now that I'm thinking about it, Glitchtrap has no need to do this as him sitting through Vanessa's therapy session with her would give him this info if she was infected. Who's ever doing this doesn't much about her, but would very much like to. Is it Vanny or Gregory...
Wait, hold on. Vanessa's first therapist mentioned that messages were encrypted and couldn't make out what the conversation was about. But the second therapist can understand these messages to know that they're manipulative in nature. Are these two different messengers?!
" I’ve read them, but it’s not clear what you’re talking about in these conversations. I can’t make sense of it. You must be getting something from these that I’m not getting." - The first Therapist
"but what bothers me about what I read is that the messages you're getting seem very manipulative in nature." - The second Therapist
What changed? Hmm... What exactly is an encrypted conversation? Maybe explaining that will help.
Encrypted text messaging is a method of secure communication that converts your messages into code. This means that only the recipient with the correct decryption key can read it. - Google
That sounds like what the first Therapist is referring to, but she mentions that they got the transcripts for it. Does that mean that got the code or the decryption key to read it? No, she says transcripts, which means the code itself.
But whatever the first Therapist saw in that transcript was legible enough to read and comprehend. This means the conversation wasn't in computer coding that would require someone in the tech field to decipher it, but just ordinary talk that's hard to understand what it's about.
Okay, that clears things up, they're still the same messenger.

• CD 11-Therapist: So, on your breaks, it looks like you were shopping for a costume. You purchased some fake fur material.
• CD 11- Vanessa: I can't talk about this. He said he would always be watching. He could be here or there or anywhere in between.
• CD 11-Therapist: No, that's not what I mean. You can't just ignore an issue. You have to face your memory of the experiences and process them so you can let it go. So you don't get triggered anymore. you can use this sort of self-dialogue to release these things
• CD 11-Vanessa: I don't like doing that.

This one conversation right here throws everything about Double-V out of whack. Why is Vanessa buying fake fur material? And for the very first time, we know the gender of who's messaging her along that he said that he would always be watching her.
Again the "he" here, and the "he will always be watching" part allude to Glitchtrap at first glance. And again, it can't be him because he should be within Vanessa since they merged in Help Wanted! Even if you dismissed the ending I proposed for Vanny and went with the ending where she gets locked up by Glitchtrap, it still wouldn't be him messaging her about watching here because he would be in her body!
And like I already said before, Vanessa has shown no memory problems or bodily control problems, which would've suggested Glitchtrap's control. No, this means that Gregory is doing all of this.
But why is he going after Vanessa? Geez, It's been a while since I even thought about his past before Security Breach. I forgot how much of a black hole of questions he is, regarding the lore. I'll give my updated thoughts about him after the Double-V revelation later.
For now, after going through all of Gregory's dialogue in Security Breach. It looks like he's not quite aware of the ongoings within the Pizzaplex and is shocked by the level of security can employ later in the night. There may actually be a hint of his hacker background in his dialogue if you squint. And Gregory has absolutely no idea what the rabbit laddy's name is until he gets to Fazerblast.
As for Gregory's involvement with Vanessa... Huh, that's weird. Gregory doesn't say Vanessa's name even once in Security Breach. Matter of fact, after the beginning sequence where Vanessa confronts Freddy about him, Gregory just stops talking about or even mentioning her for the rest of the game. This includes the confrontation that leads to her locking him up in Lost and Found and after it...
No matter how you slice it, Gregory's silence about her is super loud with alarm bells. Sure, he dismisses her as working with Vanny in the beginning, but it shouldn't mean that she should be an afterthought to him! Like, Gregory only talks about or mentions "the rabbit lady" after the beginning of the game.
In fact, if we were to rank every important character that Gregory talks about or mentions in his dialogue for Security Breach from most to least, it would look like this.

1. Freddy - 33 times
2. Vanny - 6 times
3. Chica - 6 times
4. Roxy - 4 times
5. Monty - 3 times
6. Moon - 3 times
7. Vanessa - 3 times
8. Burntrap - 1 time

That's absurd! Especially since she's the only other human worker in the Pizzaplex, besides Vanny, who encounters and confronts him. Like, he doesn't even try to communicate with her at all during the entire game!
Even when discovering Vanny's hideout in Fazerblast and Freddy suggests that Vanny is Vanessa due to deduceing Vanny's name being a combination of Vanessa + Bunny, Gregory remains silent about it! No, "Oh maybe you're right." or "That sounds too simple to be right", but instead there's no response to what might be the identity of your pursuer!
It's like he doesn't want to talk about her...
He knows her, he has to know Vanessa! Yet, he said, "I don't know who she is, but she's trying to get me!" to Freddy. Is he lying? No, he just knows about her.
​

• CD 14-Therapist: —They report that they've caught you on camera, or at least it appears to be you. — Well the techs are convinced that you've hacked into their system many times. — the electronics you like? I saw in your file that you have developed software programs that talk to you and repeat phrases, right? The program asks you questions and prompts you for responses. It's kind of like your own self therapy, isn't it? Another way of talking to yourself to work things out, right? When I saw some of your recent encrypted conversation logs, that's what I thought I was looking at. It felt like I was watching someone go back and forth in their own head, but the text found something that's different than that. When I read what they found, at first I thought I was looking at more examples of you just talking with yourself. Then I realized it was different. When I study this, it sounds like there is someone else responding to you. Who is it?

This is either hinting towards Gregory talking directly to Vanessa or Glitchtrap. But something that confuses me is why the therapist has or even be able to see Gregory's encrypted conversation logs?
I'll admit that I'm ignorant about therapy, but should your therapist have access to stuff you created outside of therapy? Unless Gregory created the program on a computer in therapy. It could explain how he's gotten access to Vanessa's files. But I'll drop that talk for now.
Something that's being made clear to me now is that Vanessa is not as connected to the villains as Gregory is, as she's more surprised by the changing of therapist than he is. In fact, Gregory knows why the therapists are disappearing, knows exactly when the therapists do something that would cause them to disappear, and doesn't seem upset when they show up mangled and dead.
But more than anything, Gregory knew Vanny long before Security Breach started. There's no reason why Gregory would know Vanny has enough control over the Pizzaplex to cut off Freddy from the network, in just one encounter. If anything, he should have assumed she was some weirdo stranger in the Pizzaplex that the security and the police needed to take care of.
But he already knew that Vanny had power in the Pizzaplex, maybe not the full scope, but enough to know that if she and he ever came into conflict with one another that ended with her wanting to hurt him then he needed to get out of the Pizzaplex.
Funnily enough, this actually lines up with the first-ever trailer for Security Breach, where Vanny says: "Gregory, I may have lost my temper earlier. But it was just a glitch!" Which implies they were talking neutrally before whatever made Vanny lose her temper. Again, I'm not using this as evidence as it's been cut, instead, I'm suggesting that the idea might have merit.
​

• CD-Therapist: — I have this still shot the techs pulled from the security footage that recorded you in the pizzaplex. That's you, isn't it? I know this image is distorted but I think it looks like you. And you're not alone here. You're talking to someone, or something. it's hard to tell. What are those things? They almost look like rabbit ears. What? You find that amusing? Well I guess it is.

I had always flipped-flopped between the mysterious person being either Glamrock Bonnie or Vanny. Both are connected to Glitchtrap, so either would fit here as Glitchtrap wouldn't be captured by a camera. But with the new evidence I've discovered, Vanny fits as Gregory's mysterious rabbit correspondent in the Pizzaplex.
But what about Vanessa? Is Gregory hacking into her files or is it Vanny and Glitchtrap? Or perhaps Gregory is hacking into her files on behalf of Glitchtrap and Vanny. Either way, Vanessa is getting dragged into Gregory and the Villian's group chat.
Speaking of the therapy, if we take into account the Retro-CD's numbering system the first two numbers are the patient ID number, and the last two numbers are the number of times both Gregory and Vanessa have been to therapy, then we can uncover some invaluable information.
Gregory has been in therapy longer than Vanessa and he was also in therapy before her too. But combining this CD's numbering system with a theory from the Talesbook story, GGY, that Gregory only goes to therapy on Sunday. Then Gregory has been going to therapy for a year and a half.
And if Vanessa is following the weekly therapy session pattern, then she's only been going to it for a little more than half a year. This means she started her therapy just about after Gregory hit his half-year mark for therapy. In addition to all that, Vanessa stopped going to therapy once she was transferred to a new location and never met the fourth and final therapist of the CDs.
Just something you all should keep in mind.
But Gregory definitely knows about her at the very least. That knowledge, I guess, is the reason why he's so shocked to see her face under Vanny's mask in the "To The Rooftop" ending. He knows that Vanessa and Vanny are two different people, but doesn't know that they look alike because he never encountered Vanny before Security Breach without her mask or costume.
On the subject of costumes, I still got no answer for Vanessa's purchase of fake animal fur or what's even happening with her now.
To be honest, this would be so simple and easy if Vanessa was just Vanny. But like as I have shown many times before in both this series and the previous one, simple and easy answers are not always the correct ones.
So, instead of looking for signs of the villain's goal with Vanessa in the lore. Let's look at the similarities and differences between the double Vs.
Vanessa's characteristics are.

• Depressed
• Has anxiety issues
• Tired (It's something that has been mentioned by the first and third therapists in CD-1 and CD-10. But seems to have more to do with the messages she's getting than how she usually is.)
• Likes the blue sky
• Likes to sit outside and read
• Watchful about her calorie intake
• Likes flowers or at least the sweet smell of them
• Doesn't like dark basements
• Oh, and hates kids

Vanny's characteristics are.

• Loves Pizza, especially pepperoni (Huh, no wonder she likes Chica)
• Absolutely, does not care about her calorie intake or a healthy diet (Seriously, Girl has gone full gamer mode with the amount of Fizzy Faz, straw drinks, and pizza boxes in areas with her presence in them)
• Hobbies in painting or graffiti
• Likes or used to like Glitchtrap or maybe William Afton (I talk about this in the secret ending)
• Loves Fazbear Entertainment (Vanny uses red spray paint in Ruin and has drawn two hearts on the FAZ ENT. Logo in the main Lobby)
• Likes Toy Chica
• Likes the Daycare Attendant (She seems to be fond of Moon more)
• Likes to read, or at least, read about the World History of Fazbear Entertainment
• Likes Flowers, a specific species of them(that I can't determine right now)
• Likes summer
• Is a mechanic or roboticist or both (She making something in Ruin Fazerblast and has turned Ruin Monty into her lapdog among other things)
• Super lazy (This one may or may not be true, but unless there's a good reason why she refuses to clean up her room in Fazer Blast, this is staying right here as far as I'm concerned)

Wow, I did not realize we already knew this much about Vanny just from the environment storytelling of the games until I listed them!
Anyway, as you can see, there are some very similar likes between the two and very stark differences in traits as well. I'm not about to list them to save word space, but instead, I want to answer a question. Could Vanessa still be Vanny despite their differences? This isn't so much for me, but for the people who believe Vanny = Vanessa despite my Double-V evidence.
At first, I thought there might've been a chance for that as they both like flowers, to read, and enjoy the outside, or at least the summer in Vanny's case. But now, after listing everything out they're just too different to say they're the same.
Even if we say that Vanny's love of pizza, general bad diet, and trashy room is the result of Vanessa coping with her depression and her situation with Glitchtrap and that her graffiti is the by-product of therapy, along with her interest in growing flowers. That doesn't negate the fact that in Ruin when given the chance to express her anxiety, Vanny doesn't take it.
If you don't know, on the wall where Vanny drew her face next to a slice of pizza in the main lobby near the Superstar Daycare entrance, there is a painted graph. The artist who made the graph also wrote on the right side of it; "TAG YOURSELF".
On all four sides of the graph, the artist made the furthest sides of them represent something. The top Y-axis is Wizard, the bottom Y-axis is Cedar, the left X-axis is Filled with a word that ends in a y, and the right X-axis is Filled with anxiety.
What this graph is showing, or what the artist trying to convey with it, is that each of the four points represents not quite the opposite thing but the furthest thing from each other. Of which, Vanny decided to tag herself on the [furthest left X-axis](https://imgur.com/j9ND1V3), not the right.
This tells us that Vanny feels the furthest thing from anxiety. Something Vanessa, no matter if she's under Glitchtrap's control or not, would be constantly feeling as she suffers from it.
As for what she's feeling, I don't know, the word on the left graph is unreadable and covered by Vanny's face to make it almost impossible to decipher. But what I do know without a doubt, is that Vanny and Vanessa are indeed, two different people with some common likes and polar opposite traits.
So after everything I've talked about in the last three? four? However many parts I've been going over Double-V, what is the best possible answer for the "To The Rooftop" ending stinger. Why do Vanny and Vanessa look alike?
I tried, I really did. I looked for as much possible evidence for anything that doesn't just make me give up and say "She's a Fazgoo clone!" or "She's a robot!"
If Vanny was a stranger who mimicked Vanessa's face, then that's cool and horrifying, but only where it concerns Vanessa herself. (The horrifying part, not the cool part.) It doesn't give us reasons why she would do it in the first place or a way to connect it to the greater lore and Glitchtrap, besides she's a human Mimic. Basically, it lacks motivation from everyone in the Villian party.
So it leaves me with no other conclusion except for one.
Back when the marketing for Security Breach was building up to its release. Steel Wool released four old Freddy cartoon episodes on their YouTube channel. Each episode hides a teaser image for the lore, including a character from the games with words, along with a character stinger at the end.
The last carton, which is the most distorted one, just so happened to include Vanessa as the hidden teaser, and Vanny as the character stinger at the end. And before you all jump the gun, previous episodes have already established that the hidden character teasers have no correlation to the ending Character stinger.
Now, the words in the Vanessa teaser image are quite interesting. It includes "Test and Rat" in the upper right corner, "Pool" in the bottom left corner, and "Bleak Reactant".
Test and Rat could be Test rat or Laboratory rat (Lab rat) as in the species of rat that are bred and kept for scientific research. Lab rat here can also be referring to Vanessa being a lab rat for the villain's experiment for something.
Using that explanation, "Pool" would then mean group or pool of people, which means number of people available for an organization or group to use. So Pool would mean that Vanessa was chosen out of all the Fazbear employees or people in general to be used for the experiment.
This leaves us with Bleak Reactant, which the definition of reactant is a substance that takes part in and experiences change during a reaction, while the definition of bleak could mean lacking vegetation (an area of land), dreary (a room), miserable(the weather), or unfavorable (outcome.)
All of this together means that Vanessa was chosen by the villains out of a group of people to be used for an experiment. An experiment of a change in Vanessa that predicted an unfavorable outcome for the villains.
Vanessa was going to be the next Vanny or maybe something else.
That gives a reason why the villains were so interested in her, why she would be shopping for a costume, why she would be at the Pizzaplex, and why she would be still connected to the villains when someone else is Vanny.
But the reason she was chosen in the first place, why her out of a group of people that might've included Gregory in it too, is because the one who chose her was her own twin sister.
If anyone remembers my only Ruin theory then you would remember my mentioning of Glitchtrap's and Vanny's conversation from Scott's website from a Security Breach poster.
Glitchtrap: "Stay the course."
Vanny: "I will."
Glitchtrap: "Focus on my voice."
Vanny: "I will."
Glitchtrap: "Don't let anyone lead you astray."
Vanny: “I won't.”
Glitchtrap: "Have you selected one?"
Vanny: "I have."
In my theory, I proposed that Gregory was the one that Vanny mentioned selecting here. But now, with all the revelations and new information gained, I believe Vanessa works better here. Vanny would've chosen someone for an experiment that she personally knew of or gotten to know, and who better than her own sibling that she grew up with.
Remember, Vanny is just starting out in her following of Glitchtrap. So would be new to the whole evil thing. And most of the time, the people close to you are the ones that would most likely commit a crime against you.
As for the twin sister thing, it actually didn't come from the "To The Rooftop" ending, but a discussion from the GTlive stream where Mat hosted a little get-together with some of the FNAF YouTuber theorists after Security Breach. There, John Fuhnaff suggested the idea for it from the VR Sisters boss from the Security Breach game Scott made when Security Breach got delayed again.
It's something that I saw some merit in after I discovered the Vanny ≠ Vanessa and after disproving in my head that Vanny wasn't Tape Girl either. The best part of the twin sister thing is that there's no need to throw out all that we know from Vanessa's therapy sessions as they both share the divorced parent's backstory.
As for which is the order twin between the two, I believe Vanessa is the oldest since it makes sense that her father would use the oldest to testify against their mother as she would better understand his instructions. Plus it provides a potential grudge from Vanny to Vanessa for what happened to their mother and a misguided parental affection for Glitchtrap. Unless Vanny's just a fangirl of William Afton, which could be the case.
Also, this means that the reason Vanessa looks the way she does in "To The Rooftop" end credits is because she looking at her dead sister. Oof, I realized that this also means she would've been the one who finds what's left of her in the "Disassemble Vanny" ending too. No wonder Faz Ent. is temporarily closed if they find that one employee is disassembled and the other one is having a mental breakdown from it in the morning.
But what about the "Redemption" ending? We know that by beating PQ3 both Glitchtrap and Vanny are defeated in it. What happens to her then? Where did she go? Hmm... I'm not sure.
What happens when someone is unmerged after being merged for a long time? Unlike Vanessa, we know that Vanny lives in the Pizzaplex. Even by Ruin and Help Wanted 2, she's still living in the building despite its condition so she probably needs time to think and process what happened to her and what's she done. Oh, and therapy. And a house.
But I think that just about wraps everything up for— Wait, HW2's Candy Cadet story! I forgot all about it! I know some people mentioned that the second story had to do with Vanessa, Gregory, and Gltichtrap. Let me skim through that real quick for clues.
Oh. Oh, that's really interesting... But it along with the Jeremy and the Memory dolls can wait until after next time. Sorry for the little to no pictures, I needed space to fit everything in one post and wanted to get everything about Double-V out of the way before I go on hiatus.
Don't worry it has nothing to do with burnout. It won't be too long either, though knowing my track record when saying that, you probably don't believe me.
Truth is, I've been severely neglecting my YouTube channel, and should really start catching up the YouTube version of my series with the online version. Plus, I've got more "Prove it!" to work on.
But most important of all, my birthday is coming up, and I don't want to work, think, or have anything to do with my FNAF stuff on that day. So! Feel free to read and become full with these last few Parts until I come back with more.

My hands are trembling to the point where I've had to restart this several times. I'm a guy who doesn't scare easily, but this encounter has me shaking like a hit dog. I'm still sitting in my work truck, trying to work up the courage to step outside again. Worse, I'm trying to figure out how I'm going to tell my boss what happened. I was already on thin ice with him, and this shit might cause me to break through to the freezing water below.
But fuck it, because this was weird.
I install cable for a living. I didn't have dreams of stringing cable when I was a little kid, but my previous life choices left me with few options. In high school, I fell in with the wrong crowd. It started with skipping school, sneaking alcohol at weekend parties, and some petty theft, but it didn't stay that way for long. Soon, I dropped out and dedicated my life to committing robberies to pay for my pill addiction. I wasn't living as much as I was running on a treadmill. I did whatever I could to stay on my feet but constantly felt myself slipping.
My bottom came when I was jumped by two guys who sold me pills. I had bought from them before and trusted them, but the feeling was not mutual. Someone had dimed a buddy of theirs out to the police, and he was looking at real jail time. They assumed it was me and beat me senseless.
I was greeted at the door with a punch to the jaw that sent me reeling. My brain, already addled and slowed by Oxi, was in the middle of putting together what was happening when the next punch caught me in the temple. I collapsed to the ground and covered my neck and face as best as I could. The next few minutes were a flurry of punches, kicks, and stomps. When it was all over, I had a broken jaw, a shattered wrist, several wounds that required fifty total stitches, and a concussion.
That's how I kicked my painkiller addiction.
I can joke now, but the next six months were the hardest in my life. The withdrawals I had were the worst thing I've ever experienced. Having them while I was recuperating from my injuries was a circle of hell I didn't think existed. I wanted to die most days and felt lost in the darkness. But sobriety was the beacon on the horizon. Even during my darkest moments, I could still see the fuzzy spark of white light off in the distance. It kept me going. Six months from my beat-down day, I came out the other side healthier but weaker.
I needed a job but had limited skills. Thankfully, I had a former pill buddy who managed to keep steady employment with the cable company. We always got along, and he called in a few favors and hooked me up. I got hired, but it was a struggle. Not the work, which was easy to learn, but dealing with the public without telling them to fuck off. Worse, was trying to avoid the flood of illegal substances that are around you at all times. Customers will offer you weed or pills for all the channels, or bored co-workers will have something to "make the day pass by." It's a lot to dodge, especially if you're in recovery. Whenever I felt the itch again, I'd feel the scar tissue from my wrist surgery, and the itch would pass.
The last week has been one of those "Shit, is it Friday yet?" weeks that seem to be growing in frequency these days. I don't want to bore you with the details, but needless to say, most nights, I needed to reach out to my sponsor and have them talk me off the ledge. We recently had a turnover at the executive level, and my new boss Rory was a tremendous cock. A rager at levels science hasn't ever seen before. Just the worst dude imaginable.
Part of Rory's new crusade was coming in and firing a bunch of guys. The company called it "checking for redundancies in the labor force," but we all knew what it was. He was picking off two classes of people: high earners and guys with spotty pasts. I was in the latter group and imagined it was just a matter of time before my number got pulled. I was on pins and needles all week. I made sure I was the greatest cable installer you'd ever meet. So far, I was getting high marks but the forced joviality was wearing thin.
It's safe to say my joy had left on a one-way ticket. I have no clue when—or if—she'd return.
Back to this shit. I had just finished up my last job of the day when my work phone started buzzing. I cursed and thought about not answering, but the threat of unemployment loomed too large for me to do that. I picked up and knew from the jump my day was far from over. Denise from dispatch asked if I could cover a job left hanging because of "scheduling conflicts" (see: the original installer had been let go). It was near where I was and was a simple install.
I gritted my teeth and agreed. I liked Denise and knew she was worried about the hammer falling on her, too. She thanked me profusely, and promised to bring me cookies tomorrow. Since she's a hellcat in the kitchen and getting close to a dispatcher never hurts, I said no worries. I hung up, balled up my jacket, and screamed into it. I felt better after that.
981 Maple Street was about five minutes away, but it felt like a world away. Maple Street was at the end of the neighborhood where large swaths of grass fields faded into a thicket of woods. The woods rose up into the foothills until they graduated to mountains. To borrow a phrase from Shel Silverstein, the house resided where the sidewalk ends.
The house, an off-white birdhouse ranch type, was a little run-down but no worse than any of the others that populated this neighborhood. This place had been hit hard by economic times, and property values had plummeted. It was slowly recovering. In five years, this would be a place most current residents wouldn’t be able to afford. The front yard had a large oak tree that looked amazing but had killed the grass under its canopy. The rest of the yard looked well cared for.
I knocked and heard a few voices talking on the other side of the door. It opened, and a man in his late 40s stood there with a steaming cup of coffee in one hand. He was tall and thin, save for a middle-aged paunch. His face was starting to crinkle at the edges, but he was southern California middle-aged, which meant he was holding up pretty well. He did look tired, though—the bags under his eyes were full-on steamer trunks.
"You with the cable company?" he asked, knowing I was.
I nodded. "You requested an install, right?"
"Yes, I did. Please, come in."
He opened the door wide, and I walked in. The house was pretty bare with a bachelor pad aesthetic. That didn't make much sense since I heard a female voice talking to him. I assumed it was his wife. I believe in a lot of wild shit, but to think that a wife would be fine with their house decorated like a 23-year-old bachelor lived there was a bridge too far.
"I'm Tom," the guy said, extending his hand. I shook it. "What did you need from my end?"
"Do you know if there was a previous hookup here?"
"Ugh, yeah. There is one in this room and another in the back bedroom."
"Okay. I should put the modem in a spot that'll hit the whole house. The signal can get wonky if it's in a room behind a wall or bricks or anything."
"This room is probably the best spot then," he said.
"Perfect. I have to get under the house, check the old connections, and replace some parts. Where's your hatch to get under the house?"
"Oh, it's around back. You can exit out this side door and walk through the backyard. It's on the eastern side. You might need a screwdriver to remove the grate. Do you need one?"
I pulled a screwdriver from my pocket and showed him. "I should be good. Thank you, though."
"I should've guessed you'd have one."
"I appreciate your concern. Is there anything in the backyard I should be worried about? Dogs? Kids? Wild dogs? Wild kids?"
It was standard banter, and it always got a chuckle out of people. Same thing happened here. "Nothing to worry about," he said. "You should be good."
"Alright. I'll get started so you can get online as soon as possible."
"Great! If you need anything, I'll be doing some work in the back bedroom."
I nodded and headed for the side door. The dining room door led to the pie wedge-shaped backyard, which was larger in the back than the front made it look. The grass was as cooked as its kin in the front, but islands of green weeds seemed to be thriving. In the corner of the lot, an old metal shed stood, rusted to the point where I assumed divine intervention kept it standing. It seemed to have been there since the house had been built – or maybe several decades before.
When I turned the corner of the house, I spotted a woman and child staring into the corner of the yard, their backs facing me. The Woman wore a faded blue dress that fit her well. Tom had, it seemed, out-kicked his coverage with her. I didn't want to startle them, so I offered a friendly "hello" to the pair. The kid started to turn, but the mother placed a hand on their shoulder and kept their heads facing away from me. I squinted along the treeline, trying to see what they were concentrating on, but I didn't see anything unusual.
Just wanting to be done with the job, I let them be and moved on. I turned another corner to the house's short side and spotted the grate leading to the crawlspace. The grate looked as old as the shed, and I wasn't sure I would even need the screwdriver to open it. Hell, I was sure the thing would disintegrate in my hands as soon as I touched it.
I crouched and was about to pull it off when I heard something rustling near me. I glanced back to where I had seen the mom and kid, but they were gone. I assumed I had heard them leaving. I pulled the grate off – I was right, no screwdriver necessary – and as I set it aside, something caught my attention out of the corner of my eye.
It was the kid. A boy around eight or so. But they weren't staring at me exactly. They were looking away from me, staring up at the roof line. I found it odd. Clearly, the kid wanted to talk to me but had turned their back on me. I coughed to let them know that I knew they were there, but they didn't respond.
"Hey man, what's up there?" I said.
"Nothing nice," he said, still keeping their gaze away from me.
"Oh," I said, "Not going to hurt me, is it?"
"Maybe," he said.
Not the answer I was expecting. "What is it?"
"They told me you'd know soon enough."
As he said that, I felt something crawling across my hand. I pulled my hand away from the house and shook it. I saw a spider land in a pile of leaves and scurry away. I let out a nervous laugh. I'm not scared of spiders or anything, but the shock of being told some unseen thing was watching me and didn't look pleased, coupled with the sensation of something on my skin, was enough to justify a quickened heartbeat.
I looked back at where the kid had been standing, but he was gone. I chalked it up to kids being little weirdos and went back to work. The faster I could get this installation done, the quicker I could go home and smoke a bowl. I let Kush be my guide. I put up my hood, turned on my small flashlight, and shimmied through the opening under the house.
I know guys who've worked for the company for years and still dread going into a crawl space. Granted, it's not my favorite thing to do, but I don't mind either. The bugs can be a nuisance but if you don't bother them, they tend to not bother you. Same with rats and mice. Raccoons, though? I crawl out and call animal control. Those little dudes are cute but nasty as all get out. My path today was nothing but cobwebs, so I was okay.
I flashed my light around and saw where the cable line went up into the living room floor. My job here was to ensure the coaxial line's integrity was still good. If it had been chewed on or anything, I'd replace it. Sometimes, I just replaced it anyway—saving myself a potential job later down the line.
I crawled over to where the line came in from the pedestal and started my once-over. I not only looked for any damage but also ran the line through my hands to make sure my eyes didn't miss anything. I was under the dining room area when I heard that side door close.
I stopped. Tom said something, but it was muffled. I wanted to be nosy, so I waited a beat to hear if anyone spoke back to him. Someone did. It was soft and quiet – I assumed it was the Boy – and I didn't make out what they asked, but I did hear Tom's response. In a firm voice, he said, "No, not right now. Run along."
There were footsteps over me that faded into another section of the home. Tom said, "He always wants to jump the gun. How many times do I have to tell him?"
I suppressed a laugh at the last line. It's the official father's lament. I kept moving my hand down the line and didn't feel nicks along the cable. In fact, on closer inspection, the line looked almost new. I was planning to change it, but this looked like it had been installed last week.
I could hear someone walk into the living room as I reached the spot where the line went through the house. Another pair of footsteps followed the first, and I heard a breathy but detached woman's voice ask, "Can we show our faces now?"
"I just told the boy 'no.' What makes you any different?" Tom said, an edge to his voice.
A chill raced through my body. I knew those words, but this conversation made me feel like I spoke another language. Can we show our faces? Why would you not?
"Do you think he'll see us?"
"If I have my way," he said, not finishing that thought. "Leave me be. I must try to get some things done before he leaves, and you two keep bothering me."
What did Tom mean to get some things done before I left? What did he have in mind? While trying to process all this, I heard something shuffle in the darkness just beyond my flashlight beam. I moved it around, trying to see the telltale glowing eyes of varmints, but nothing flashed back at me.
I heard something shuffling again, this time down by my feet. I cocked my head as best as I could and shone the flashlight into that corner of the house but, again, there wasn't anything else down here but me and a thousand spiders. I sighed and finished my inspection of the wire.
As I turned to crawl back out from under the house, I heard somebody sneaking around on the floor above me. The wood groaned as the person moved slowly. I wasn't sure what they were doing, but they wanted to keep it a secret. A shadow fell over the pinprick of light from where the cable went into the house. Someone was standing over it.
"Can you hear them down there? Moving in the dark?" It was the Boy. “They like the dark.”
"What are you saying?"
"The little shadows," he said, "They live down there. Do you hear them?"
This kid was creepy as hell. "I, ugh, I can't hear you, dude," I said, inching my body away from the wire, "We can talk inside."
"They're going to get you, but that's okay," he said, "It only hurts for a little bit, and then you're fine."
Fuck. That. I had no desire to respond to that nightmare of a statement. I hastened my inch-worming, heading back towards the open hatch. As I did, I heard more movement in the darkness around me. I tried to ignore it, but it was a fool's gambit. It was impossible to ignore.
I was getting closer to the opening when I saw a pair of tiny legs walk in front of the hatch. It was the Boy. How did he get there so quickly and without me hearing him run on the floor? I didn't have time to run through the scientific method because the Boy leaned down and placed the metal grate back over the hatch.
"Hey! Hey!" I yelled. "I'm still under here!"
The Boy didn't stop. Instead, he placed a trashcan in front of the grate, enshrouding the entire crawlspace in darkness and trapping me inside.
"Hey! I need you to move that!" I screamed. No response. I raised my fist as high as possible and punched the floor above me to hopefully get Tom’s attention. That was a mistake, as I managed to punch straight into an old nail. I felt it puncture in between my knuckles. The pain was instant, and I let out a howl.
I shook my hand and swore a blue streak. I reached up with my other hand, felt the tip of the nail I had managed to punch, and found a flat spot next to it. I banged hard on the floor and yelled again for some help. Nobody responded. Not at first.
Then I heard someone chuckle under the house.
I couldn't locate where it had come from because it sounded like it was all around me. I swung my light around as best as I could but didn't see anything. No glowing eyes, nothing. I inched forward a bit, and someone laughed again – this time, it was to my right. I turned my light in that direction and saw a sudden flood of light fill the space under the house.
"What the hell?" I said, my desire to leave overtaken by a desire to know what was unfolding next to me.
A pair of kid legs dropped down from the hole in the floor. I realized then that the hole must be an interior crawlspace. The kid had blocked off the metal grate and opened this hatch for some reason. While he dropped his legs down, he didn't move any further.
"Hey, you have to open that metal grate," I yelled. "I don't want to be trapped down here."
"They told me they needed you," he said, followed by a slight chuckle.
"What the fuck are you talking about?" I said, not caring that I was talking to a child. "Open the goddamn grate!"
"The shadows are approaching," he said, pulling himself back into the house. He placed the lid back on the hole, and I was trapped in the dark again. I cursed to myself and started pounding on the floor again.
"Hey! Someone come help me!"
That's when I felt something run across my legs. I nearly jumped out of my skin. It didn't feel like the tiny claws of a passing rat. It was cold to the touch, but as it hit my skin, I felt a burn in my bones. It's hard to explain, but I felt both extremes simultaneously. Whatever it was skittered off into the darkness of the other side of the crawl space.
The kid started laughing again, which brought me back to reality. I army crawled as fast as I could to the grate. I balled up my fist and punched in the middle of the metal. The blow knocked the old nails out of the wall, and the grate broke up. I was about to push away the garbage can when it suddenly wheeled out of the way.
I saw Tom's legs standing there.
"You okay?" he asked, concern in his voice.
I got out from under the house so fast that I left a me-sized dirt cloud in my place. Once out, I shook my body loose as if I had things crawling all over me. Tom watched but didn't say anything at first. We finally locked eyes, and he could see the rage, fear, and confusion on my face. He wisely waited until I spoke first.
"What the hell is wrong with your kid? He blocked me under there and taunted me from the indoor crawlspace."
"What are you talking about?"
"He told me the shadow people or something were watching, and then he blocked me under the house!"
Tom's face twisted up into confusion. "I...I don't understand."
"I can't make it any simpler, Tom!" I screamed, letting unprofessionalism take root.
"I don't have a kid."
It hit me like an Ali right cross. My vision got dizzy, and I struggled to catch my breath. I stared at his face, looking for the sign of a lie or a joke, but he was as stone-faced as an Easter Island statue. After a beat, I found my sense again. "I heard you talking to him in the living room when I was under the house."
"One, I was on a phone call. Two, are you spying on me? What the hell, man?"
"I wasn't spying, and you weren't on the phone," I said. I also heard you talking to your wife. She asked you if she could show her face or something."
"I don't have a wife either."
I shook my head. "I fucking saw them in the backyard! They were staring at the fence!"
Tom paused and cocked his head to the side. When he spoke, it was softly, trying to calm me down. "Are you...did you have a few drinks before the appointment? Or a pill or something? No judging – I know pill heads. I won't report you or anything, but I understand if you need to come back tomorrow with a clearer head."
"I'm sober," I said, gritting my teeth. "But I know what I saw. What I heard."
"As the tree said to the lumberjack, I'm stumped," Tom said. "You look a little flush. You want a bottle of water or something? I can show you I'm here all alone."
My adrenaline had seeped out of my body, and I was starting to feel like myself again. I nodded at Tom, and he smiled. "I'll go grab you one. Do you want to come into the AC?"
"No, I'm okay. I need to double-check the connection to the pedestal."
"Sure. Be bright back," Tom said as he walked off.
But I had no intention of checking the connections. I was going to check on Tom. I didn't believe him at all. Something weird was going on, and I needed to know what. As soon as he turned the corner around the house, I broke out my flashlight and headed back to the crawlspace.
I dropped to the ground and shone my beam into the darkness. Something had crawled on me, and I wanted to see what it was. I moved my light into every section of the crawlspace but saw no eyes glowing back at me.
"If you're under there, call back."
There was nothing. I was starting to feel like a paranoid idiot. I called out once again just to be sure, but again, nothing called back. I shut off my light and sighed. I started pushing myself back to my feet when I heard a faint woman's voice call out, "Can we show our faces now?"
"Not yet," someone hissed from the trees above me. I snapped my head up, expecting to see someone hanging on a branch over my head, but I just saw green leaves.
"Can we show our faces now?" It was the Boy. It sounded like he was on the roof. I shielded my eyes and glanced at the roof but didn't see him.
"No. He's not ready yet," someone whispered in my ear. I snapped around, throwing a punch as I did, only to slam my fist into the fence. I felt one of my knuckles crack as it hit the wood, and the pain shot up my arm like lightning. Within seconds, my hand started to puff up, and blood dripped out the wounds.
The Boy chuckled again. It came from under the house. I looked down at the grate and saw his legs disappear into the darkness.
"Hey!" I called and dropped to the ground. I pulled out my flashlight and shone into the darkness again. I was confident I'd see him, but he wasn't there. Nobody was.
I sat up and felt goosebumps turn my arms into braille. I glanced over to the corner of the house and was surprised to see the disappearing hemline of the faded blue dress. I rushed over to the corner and didn't see the Woman. I saw Tom with a bottle of water.
"You okay?"
"Where did that woman go?" I asked, my voice panicking. "She was just here."
"Sir, do you need me to call your boss for you? You're starting to scare me."
"What's up with this house? Is it haunted?"
Tom started laughing. "I hope not. I just moved in. I'd hate to have roommates again, especially ones who leave ectoplasm all over the place."
As I stared at him, I saw the Woman and the Boy emerge from the other corner of the house. They looked up on the roof, their faces obscured by their hands and the sun. I pointed a finger at them and screamed, "They're right there!"
Tom spun around and looked, but there wasn't anything there. He turned back to me, not sure what to say. Instead, he handed me the bottle of water. "I gotta be honest. I didn't see anything. Drink the water...you might have heat stroke."
I threw the bottle on the ground. "I don't have fucking heat stroke. I have a man that's lying about these things." I got close to him. "What did you have planned for me? Why do they keep asking to show their faces?"
"I don't," he said, but I didn't stay to hear him finish his thought. I walked right past him and turned the corner of the house. As I did, I saw the blue hem disappear through the door that led to the kitchen. I followed right behind her.
I walked into the house, which was as silent as a corpse. The Woman and Boy were nowhere to be seen. "Hello?" I called out. "I just saw you guys walk in here. Where are you?"
The door behind me opened up. Tom walked in, his face reddening with anger. "You can't just walk into my house."
"I saw them walk in. Where are they?"
"I keep telling you, it's just me and you here. Now, if you want to finish your work…."
I walked away from him and headed toward the bedroom where I had seen the Boy standing. I wanted to check that crawl space. The room was empty, not even a moving box in there, so finding the hatch that led under the house was easy. I went into the closet and pried the hatch open.
Tom entered the room behind me, more confused now than angry. "I don't want a line run through here."
"The Boy was standing in this spot. I saw his legs. I spoke to him. He told me the shadows needed me for something." I glared down into the darkness under the house. Despite Tom's feigned declarations that there wasn't another person in the house, I knew he wasn't being honest.
"Okay, I'm pretty sure you're back on pills and in the middle of a delusion," he said.
"How did you know I had a pill addiction?"
"The way you're acting, it wasn't a hard guess."
"I'm sober, but I did have a problem with pills. I never told you. I don't tell anyone."
Tom stood there, confused about how to answer. I stood up and stared him down. He looked away, but I didn't move my gaze. "Who are you? Who put you up to this? Was it Rory? He trying to get me fired?"
Tom's shoulders sagged. "You got me," he said. "Rory hired me to get you in trouble. I'm... I'm sorry. He offered me free cable for a year and assured me you were a bad guy and, well…. I'm weak."
"That's really fuc…," I stopped. "You're lying. Right now. You're lying. Why?"
Out of the corner of my eye, I saw something dash past the open crawlspace hatch. I turned to the hatch opening and then back to Tom.
"Are you trying to stop me from looking in there?"
He didn't respond.
"What's under there?"
"He is," he said. "The Boy. He hides under there all the time. He has...friends down there."
"The shadow people?"
Tom shrugged, "What he calls them. I call them a menace. Impossible to get my work done with them causing a racket."
"What work?"
"Things you'd never understand in a million years," he said, "Things beyond your brain's capacity to imagine. Things that will help usher in a new world. Your kind's time is coming to a close. My work represents the new order."
I stared at him. I wasn't sure if I should run away or punch his lights out. Instead, I just spat out, "Bro, what the fuck?"
"Can we show our faces now?" the Boy called out from under the house.
I looked down at the hatch and then back at Tom. He nodded toward the opening. "Do you want to see your future?"
"Fuck it," I said. I got down, grabbed the sides of the opening, and lowered my head under the house.
I kept my eyes closed for a second, assuming I'd either see something horrifying or something would hit me in the face. When nothing struck me, I opened my eyes. It was dark, and I couldn't make out anything.
"There's nothing under here," I said.
"Can we show our faces now?" said the Boy from somewhere under the house.
"Show him," Tom said.
I sat back up, grabbed my flashlight from my pocket, and flipped it on. I looked at Tom, "If you try anything, so help me, God."
Tom just smiled. I looked back down at the hatch and sighed. I was suddenly hit with a bolt of common sense. What was I doing? My internal alarms were going off and I was ignoring them. Curiosity had gotten me this far, but my fight instincts were starting to lose to my flight. No job was worth this.
"Man, fuck this," I said, reversing course and standing. I turned to confront Tom, but he was gone. I hadn't heard him leave, but there wasn't a trace of him there. "Tom? Where the hell are you?"
He didn't respond, and I decided that I had hit my "weird shit" quota for the day. I closed the closet door and headed back into the living room to grab my gear. I'd call dispatch and tell them someone else had to come out and finish the….
The wood floor cracked, splintered, and gave way when I put my weight on it. I fell through the floor and landed with a thud on the dirt in the crawl space. On the way down, I hit my ribs on a crossbeam and heard them crack and knock the wind out of me. As I lay on the dirt, writhing in pain, my lungs did their damnedest to find a breath. It couldn't, and my vision started to blur at the edges. For a fleeting few seconds, I envisioned my death on a dirty crawlspace floor. It wasn’t comforting.
I rolled onto my back and finally took in a massive gulp of life-saving air. The blurring vision subsided, and all that remained was the aching pain of a busted rib. My muscles around my rib cage spasmed and pulled tight against my lungs. After the initial big breath, I could only take shallow gulps because the pain was searing.
I lay there for a few seconds, collecting my thoughts, when I felt something skitter across my legs again. I kicked out of instinct but didn't hit anything. Instead, I heard the chuckling again. My flashlight had fallen out of my hand. I found it and turned it on.
This time, I did see something. Pairs of eyes—dozens of them—watched me from the darkness that surrounded me. These weren't possums or rats. I never hoped to find a raccoon under the house more than I did at that moment. I knew whatever these things were, they weren't natural and they wanted to harm me.
"Still want to know what they plan to do to you?" the Boy asked from behind me.
I turned around and shone the light where I heard the voice. The Boy was lying on his stomach, his face looking down at the ground. All I could see at the moment was the top of his head.
"Wha-what's going on?" I said, the light bouncing from my trembling hand.
"I can show you my face now," he said. He raised his head and….
The Boy didn't have a face.
He had the space for a face, but there were no features whatsoever—nothing but pale pink skin pulled tight across the front of his head. At that moment, the image of a wooden art figure came to me.
“What the ever-loving fuck?"
"Want to see something really scary?" the Boy said, his lack of a mouth not stopping him from speaking. He raised himself onto the tips of his fingers and toes and started skittering toward me, laughing as he did.
I clambered out of the crawlspace as fast as my battered body could carry me. I got out of the hole and onto my feet and let out an ear-splitting scream.
The Woman in the blue dress was standing next to the hole in the floor. Like the Boy, she didn't have a face either. But I could feel her eyes on me. Looking into my mind. Into my soul. She stepped toward me, and I bolted for the front door.
I whipped it open and was greeted by Tom standing there, blocking me. He grinned. "Leaving so soon?"
"What the hell is going on?" I asked, checking behind me to see if the Woman was still coming toward me. She was, and she was gaining quickly.
"Can we show our faces now?" he asked with a laugh.
I turned back to Tom and nearly had a heart attack. His face was gone. I could feel my heart beating in my ears. My legs were jelly, but I kept myself propped up. The human desire to survive can perform miracles.
Tom reached out and pointed at a spot on the far side of the living room wall. I turned and saw three skinned human faces hanging from old nails: a man, a woman, and a boy.
"You're turn to join us," Tom whispered. But the voice wasn't said out loud. It came from inside my own head. "We can always use another body around here."
My brain clicked into action and sent an all-points bulletin to my limbs. The message was simple and actionable – "Get the fuck going, you dope."
I felt my hand ball into a fist and spun. It landed where Tom's nose would've been. It should've knocked him back, causing him to stumble and giving me time to run. But that didn't happen. Instead, his face pulled apart, letting my fist slide right through. It closed on my arm, trapping me.
I yanked and yanked, but my arm would not dislodge from his face. I glanced back and saw the Woman nearly next to me. The Boy was climbing out of the hole, moving like a cockroach. I looked back at the wall and saw Tom's hanging face silently laughing.
Something about those silent laughs cut me to my core. They were laughing because Tom thought he had outsmarted me. He had beat me. That my face would soon be hanging on the wall next to theirs. I wasn't going to let that happen.
I saw a loose brick on the walkway, and a plan flashed in my mind. I yanked hard, sending Tom stuttering forward enough for me to wrap my finger around the brick. I brought it up and sent it towards his face. As expected, the face parted again, and the brick flew through easily.
But as soon as the face curtains pulled aside, I yanked my arm free. With my limb free, I took off in a mad sprint for my truck. I got inside and fumbled my keys as I tried to start the engine. Tom, the Woman, and the Boy stood together at the front door and watched as I got the van going and rocketed down the street.
I drove like a madman for ten minutes, trying to put as much space between me and the house as possible. I finally stopped at a gas station to collect my thoughts. I was jittery, and my mind was swimming, but I was also relieved. I had gotten out.
I collected myself and called Denise to tell her I couldn't finish the installation at 981 Maple Street. I was going to suggest we cancel the order and not send another installer there. That's when the conversation took a turn I wasn't expecting.
"Where have you been? You were supposed to be off an hour ago," Denise said when I called her.
"I was trying to finish the install at 981 Maple, the one you sent me to."
"I didn't send you anywhere," she said. "With how insane Rory is being about overtime hours, I'm trying to keep everyone below the threshold."
"What are you talking about? You called and asked me. You don't remember," I said, a bad feeling growing in the pit of my stomach.
She gave me a nervous chuckle, "I swear I didn't. Are you feeling okay? You gotta come back. People are waiting for the van."
"I can prove it. I have a record of you calling me on my phone," I said. I opened my call log, and my jaw dropped. There was no call from Denise. She was telling me the truth. But if she didn't call me, who did?
"Rory wants to talk to you when you get in. I wouldn't mess around, he seems pissed" she said before hanging up.
I haven't moved since. I wanted to write this down because I felt like it needed to be recorded. Something supremely fucked up is happening at 981 Maple Street. It nearly got me. It still might. To think, on any other typical day, a surprise conversation with my boss would be the scariest thing that could happen to me. Funny how seeing a faceless ghoul can prioritize your problems. If you're hired to do work there, turn it down. Trust me, it's not worth it.
"Can we show our faces now?" they asked. "Fuck no," should be the only response.

First Previous Next
Patreon Official Subreddit Series Wiki Royal Road
Two items — a crystal ball, and a green leather-bound notebook — sat benignly and idly atop of the black-robed professor’s desk.
The camera lingered on them, giving them what most may see as an undeserved moment in the spotlight.
But to those that knew, to the parties invested in this controversy, this little pause and dramatic zoom-in was accompanied by a hair-raising excitement… along with an untempered nervousness for what was to come.
It definitely caused the investigative duo on the other side of the screen some pause for thought; prompting them to stand intently, pondering both the orb and the notebook.
Ilunor, as far as I could tell, was entranced by the green notebook in particular. Though it wasn’t a trance born out of any positive emotion, but instead, one of abject horror.
“Recommended Reading Materials for the Studious Student.” Sorecar announced with a steady breath, prompting Ilunor to visibly flinch in his seat, as the man reached a finger over to point at the hand-scrawled title of the leather-bound notebook. That finger soon found itself carefully manipulating its pages, opening the cover first, before turning over the internal dust-cover to reveal letters and symbols written in High Nexian, but arranged in a manner the EVI simply could not translate.
“Error: Unable to Translate. Cause: Unrecognized and/or unintelligible organization of local script-forms.”
Yet despite this, it seemed as if both Sorecar and the Apprentice were able to draw something from its otherwise senseless pages. As despite being written haphazardly, with letters and pictograms arranged in no meaningful order, they were able to still draw meaning where the EVI couldn’t.
“Within these pages lie materials for the studious student. Materials are to be found within The Library, and are to be retrieved with great haste. May you make swift work of their contents, and may those after you find only ash in your wake. Seek, unlearn, and remove from the grip of the eternal entity, that which was once a gift but is now a curse. Seek, unlearn, and remove; with the fires of your passion, oh studious student.” Sorecar read aloud, managing to read something verbatim from the nonsensical pages of the book.
Ilunor’s eyes were practically glazed over at this point, as he began bringing his cape over across his chest, tucking his legs towards his chin in the process.
“This is it.” The apprentice announced with a half-cracked smile. “Please, keep going. I’m certain your skills of appraisal far exceed my own, Professor.”
Sorecar obliged by flipping the page, turning over to two pages of complete gibberish, once again watermarked by the EVI’s error message; but proving no challenge at all for the ever-inquisitive professor.
“Section One, A Tainted Reality: A Wretched Collection of Historical Affidavits During the Reconciliation and Reformation of Otherwise Lost Realities.” Sorecar paused, before turning towards the apprentice. “It lists an entire section’s worth of books, in titles held within spatial positions with reference to their potentialities within the ever-evolving library.”
Thacea’s features visibly flinched at that revelation, but similar to the apprentice in the footage, she refused to comment. At least not for now. Her eyes however betrayed a look of mild distress, which subsided somewhat as the apprentice urged the armorer to continue.
Which he did, as he flipped from page to page across the relatively small notebook, only pausing to read in between what he interpreted to be different sections and ‘chapters’.
“Section Two. The Unspoken War and the Treacherous Alliance.”
“Section Three. All surviving works from Alaroy Rital.”
The apprentice cocked her head, as if trying to recall some familiarity in that name. “Alaroy Rital.” She repeated. “I don’t recall hearing of such a name before.”
“Well his full name, as far as I recall, and vastly aided by the book is as follows: Alaroy Rital, Lord-Mayor of the Township of the Two Rivers, Slayer of the Dragon of the Grey Canyon, Repeller of the Tainted Blight of the Orsin, Liberator of the Aether, and Grand Master of the Elusian Guild Hall of Adventurers.” Sorecar responded succinctly, prompting the apprentice to once more clench her eyes shut in deep thought, before finally letting out a sigh of defeat.
“The name is both familiar yet foreign at the same time.” She finally admitted.
“As far as I recall, and mind you, my memory of those years are far from perfect… the man was a local hero of sorts. Though his record was besmirched by some controversy or another.” Sorecar offered, prompting the apprentice to finally shrug, giving up on this particular subject matter entirely.
“There are more sections, yes?”
“Correct.”
“Then let’s move on.”
Sorecar nodded promptly at that, flipping the pages over until he hit the next section.
“Section Four. A Sordid Account of the Most Bizarre of Newrealmer Arrivals: A Death By Harmonization and the Ensuing Investigation.”
That immediately got my attention, causing me to jolt forwards, prompting the armor to quickly follow as it automatically switched from the currently active in-armor-postural-readjustment mode, and back into its active configuration.
“Section Five. The Unfortunate Procedures Against Unruly Realms and the Instances in Which Such Procedures Were Incurred.”
The armorer paused after that, not necessarily due to its contents, but as if puzzled by what lay ahead in the next few final pages. In fact, he flipped back and forth between the pages soon after that, treading and retreading what were effectively the last five pages of the book. “There is an appendix which includes titles not covered by these sections, however it will take some time to read through them.”
“That’s enough for now, professor.” The apprentice offered, prompting the man to quickly pull back, closing the notebook with an unsatisfying thump. “We have our glowing wand.” The apprentice surmised. “The oeuvre of works which are no doubt the subject of this grand controversy. Now all we need to find is the contract which ties everything together.”
“I’m assuming you haven’t forgotten about our second item of interest?” Sorecar gestured towards the crystal ball.
“Of course not, professor. However, the fact we’ve found that book implies that we must be close to its dependent article.” The apprentice responded with a renewed sense of urgency, as she began using that same ornate magnifying glass in an attempt to further pick apart each and every nook and cranny of Mal’tory’s desk.
Part of me wanted to make some joke about how this was every unpaid intern’s dream, to be rummaging through your boss’ stuff.
But that part of me was completely buried underneath the confusion and dread that came with the revelations from within that little green book.
I… honestly didn’t know what I was expecting, but I felt like I’d been suckerpunched, with the wind being knocked right out of me from the implications of exactly what had been selectively purged from the library.
It was a struggle to process it all, which more or less made me dull out the more eccentric aspects of the apprentice’s investigation; as she unlocked drawer after drawer, pulling out pile after pile of magical nicknacks and more documents than what was possible from that finite amount of space.
Sorecar was clearly of the same opinion as the rest of us right now however, as he continued obsessing over the book, his hands once more trailing over to inspect its cryptic pages. The man seemed transfixed on the second and third sections in particular, though his featureless visor made it difficult to really pin down what his reactions were.
Yet throughout all of this, it was clear the reactions on the homefront were much, much more animated, as Ilunor was just about ready to pass out from the stress, and Thacea seemed about ready to burst at the seams if her featureless facade was of any indication.
“That was the book.” Ilunor finally chimed out, just as the narration through the recording had died down during the more tepid phase of the apprentice’s investigation. “I know it.”
“I thought your memories when it came to the whole Mal’tory book burning situation was lost, Ilunor?” Thalmin countered.
“It was. I mean, it still is. But I remember parts of that room. I vaguely recall the emergence of a book that I was forced to…” The Vunerian trailed off, as if struggling to piece together words.
“... to sign?” Thalmin offered in a surprisingly helpful tone which stood at odds with how he earlier regarded the Vunerian.
“No. No you imbecil-” The Vunerian paused, realizing his misstep as he backtracked from what would’ve otherwise been an expected response. “That wasn’t a book of binding. It’s not comparable to the yearbook, if that was where your assumptions were leading to, Prince Thalmin.” Ilunor clarified, gripping the armrests of his seat tight between his fingers.
It was about this point in time that I expected Thacea to chime in, to elaborate on the nature of the book with her encyclopedic knowledge on seemingly every aspect of the magical world.
But she didn’t.
Instead, her eyes remained practically glued to the screen, as I realized that whatever had been revealed thus far had hit much, much harder than I could’ve imagined.
Ilunor, as if taking note of this silence, elected to fill in for Thacea. “The book… is an adjacent artifact. It is, as the apprentice has noted, an eclectic oeuvre of works, a list if you will, to be bound to and referenced by a contract and a spell of binding. The book itself isn’t the binding agent, moreso the reference material by which the contract is hinged upon.”
“So what’s with the illegible text? Are they ciphers or some magical equivalent of it?” I gestured once more at the bird’s eye view offered by the drone, and the pages of indecipherable text currently beneath Sorecar’s hands.
“Those are anchor runes, earthrelamer.” Ilunor answered with a frustrated sigh. “It is frustrating to see them for what they are not. Frankly, it’s as if your sight-seers and memory-shards were designed to mimic the world as it is seen through the eyes of a particularly weak-fielded commoner.” The Vunerian went off, venting his frustrations through a rant before finally calming down. “But I digress. Those runes are referred to as anchors for a reason. For tethered to them are akin to pages of text to be openly read and deciphered within the manastreams. Granted, this form of writing is not common; moreso used for the purposes of contracts and other such magical binds.”
“And on the topic of contracts. I’m assuming that the contract… your contract, is what the Apprentice is currently rummaging for?” I gestured towards the screen once more, at the apprentice who was now buried ankle-deep in piles upon piles of books, documents, and an assortment of scrolls that criss-crossed across the room’s mahogany and carpeted floors.
“Unless she’s a complete nitwit, then I’d imagine so, yes.” Ilunor responded with his signature cattiness. “In any case, the fact she’s even trying proves that she’s barely above a fool anyways.” The Vunerian shrugged. “And before you ask, earthrealmer, let me preempt your question. The contract, at least on the professor’s end, has more than likely suffered the same fate as my own. Namely, its existence is more than certain to be dubious at best. What the apprentice will surely find will be nothing more than ash at the bottom of that bottomless drawer. Which… given its sheer size and scale, and the potential inhabitants within its limitless confines, will more than likely result in even ash being difficult if not impossible to find.”
There was… more than one point I wanted to raise with Ilunor’s statements. However, before I could address any of them, the elf in question finally spoke up once more; now surrounded by an entire archive’s worth of documents and nicknacks.
“Nothing.” Larial spoke with a sullen breath, taking a moment to steady herself as she made a point of not sitting on Mal’tory’s chair. “At least nothing that’s relevant to our case.” She continued, resting her palms flat against the green suede of the desk.
“Were you really expecting anything different, Apprentice?” Sorecar countered, having since moved from pondering the pages of the book to now pondering the depths of the crystal ball.
“I’d assumed the damage to the man hadn’t been so severe.” Larial admitted, alluding to something else that drew all of our collective attention. “When I first saw him in the healing ward… he looked… intact. You couldn’t even tell there was anything wrong with him.”
“And yet they called you of all people, to aid in the ritual.” The armorer surmised, with a tone of voice that now more resembled that of a fully fledged Academy Professor. His happy go lucky persona had subsided completely, at least for now, as he addressed Larial in a manner more akin to what I’d expected of the Dean. “You have been around the Academy for long enough to understand that calling upon the aid of apprentices is unprecedented. Which means that despite how things may seem on the surface, that lurking beneath the seemingly calm waters, is a hydrostorm of epic proportions.”
“This entire situation is unprecedented, professor.” Larial countered meekly. “But you are correct. It… must have been desperate if they required the aid of apprentices. I just… cannot fathom the fact that the professors must have…” The apprentice trailed off, her face scrunching up and breaking eye contact with the armorer as if too skittish to broach the next point.
Sorecar didn’t reply, nor did he complete her sentence for her, simply allowing her to recuperate and reorganize her thoughts herself.
“... brought the man back from the brink.” She managed out, offering what was in effect a euphemism that didn’t seem to sit right with the armorer, if his immediate head cock was of any indication.
“That is the only way you can explain the complete loss of a contract.” Sorecar reasoned. “You were hoping to find it, despite knowing well that it, amongst the rest of his contracts, have more than likely gone up in flames.” It was around that point that he walked around behind the desk, and reached down into the drawer the apprentice had been searching in. His arm sank impossibly deep, deeper than what should have been physically possible inside of that small and limited space. After a few moments, the man finally brought his hand back up, holding within it what appeared to be fine specks of ash that he allowed to filter back down into the dark depths of the seemingly bottomless drawer. “And there you have it — ash. Most of it has no doubt already been consumed by the bottom-feeders. However, what remains is enough to account for what is perhaps more contracts than most would form in their lives.”
The man stood back up soon after, before once more taking his place at the front of the desk.
“Well, I believe that answers our prior speculations on Auris Ping’s potential relations, contractual or otherwise, with Professor Mal’tory.” Thalmin growled out, punctuating the moment of silence within the footage; which soon continued with a resonant sigh from the apprentice.
“I guess, in a way, I was trying to find the contract not so much because of my assigned task, but because I wanted to perhaps prove to myself that the situation wasn’t as dire as my intuition leads me to believe. The loss of all these contracts can only mean one thing.” Larial paused, once more trying to find the strength inside of her to face whatever facts were self-evident in this case. “The man was lost.” She finally managed out through a shaky breath. “His soul must have departed from his mortal coil. And yet…”
“... and yet he remains.” Sorecar surmised.
“They must have re-tethered it before I arrived that night.” The apprentice shot back. “But I felt nothing different when they asked me to aid in the mana-channeling processes. This whole situation is just…” She sighed, prompting Sorecar to cock his head.
“Unprecedented?”
“Yes.” The apprentice once more admitted, sinking her face into her hands and taking a moment to process it all, more or less falling into the same camp all of us were currently in. “Moreover, it brings up a very disturbing question.”
“Which is?”
“If his soul was truly untethered, even for a split second… how exactly were they able to retether it? Or more specifically, through what means are they using to permanently retether his soul to his mortal coil?”
This question seemed to cause some level of concern from Sorecar, as his answer soon demonstrated. “There are… ways of doing so that aren’t exclusive to being spellbound to armor.” The man offered under a dour breath. “Especially if the body is… fresh, in a manner of speaking. Though it requires the use of-” He stopped, halting himself from going down what was clearly a darkening path. “I apologize for prompting this rather… dark and dreary subject matter, Apprentice.” Sorecar offered, as that empathetic, kinder side of him returned without much prompting.
“It’s quite alright. It… it needed to be said, if we are to complete this investigation with any degree of professionalism.” The apprentice concluded with a small smile. “Whatever the case may be, it is clear that we are unable to procure the contract through which the perpetrator of the library’s burning was bound. We have, however, undeniable proof of Professor Mal’tory’s involvement with the scandal.” She pointed at the green notebook. “And of course, a potential interloper who may or may not have been a part of this conspiracy; thereby expanding this from a mere Academy matter, to one which could implicate others beyond its walls.” She pointed at the crystal ball. “Have you discovered anything from your observations thus far, Professor?” The apprentice inquired, prompting the man to nod, as he knelt down to eye-level, pondering the orb from desk-height.
“The inherent limitations of the Echovale make it so that it’s near impossible to transcribe anything following the cessation of a communique.” Sorecar began. “Though of course, you knew this, and hoped that because I am perhaps one of the greatest armorers to have ever lived, that I would be able to aid in this impossible endeavor, hmm?” The armorer’s tone of voice had more or less resumed that flighty, happy-go-lucky one I knew him for.
The apprentice, hearing this, could only smile awkwardly in response. “I wouldn’t have put it that… bluntly, professor. But I do indeed have faith in your ability to make the impossible, well… probable, at the least.”
“Hmph! Well, I couldn’t pin a face or a name, but I was able to pin a definite location if that helps.” The man offered.
“Any stray piece of information will help tremendously, professor.”
“The Crownlands.” He answered without a hint of hesitation, prompting the Apprentice to raise both of her brows up high.
“That’s as far as I am able to draw from the residual echoes within the vale.” He tapped at the ball, generating a series of satisfying clinks in the process.
“So the man wasn’t acting alone. Or rather, perhaps he was consulting someone.” The apprentice pondered. “Then again, that final communique could very well be with Lord Lartia—” The apprentice paused, before placing both palms softly across her throat. “—may his soul rest in peaceful slumber.” Following another moment of silence, the apprentice’s hands soon shifted towards the ball. “In any case, if it isn’t Lord Lartia, then who could it possibly be? Maybe we should…” The apprentice suddenly stopped; as if realizing the dangers of diving any deeper into this growing conspiracy. “No.” She quickly corrected herself. “Whatever the case may be, this is probably now completely out of my purview. I was assigned to collect any evidence I deemed to be relevant to recent happenings, and I believe this should suffice.”
“Whatever you believe is best, apprentice.” Sorecar acquiesced, prompting the apprentice to slowly, but surely, pack the archive’s worth of documents, books, and scrolls all back into the drawer using nothing but telekinetic spells.
This left just the crystal ball, and the little green book, both of which the apprentice promptly pocketed into a small pouch, before placing it somewhere beneath her cloak.
“Though on that note…” Sorecar began, pointing towards the apprentice’s cloak. “If I may ask, how do you plan on divvying up these finite pieces of evidence?”
This caught the apprentice off-guard, as her mouth opened, but no response came through.
“Moreover, are you even obligated to hand in this evidence? Or are you only expected to write a report to all parties involved?” Sorecar continued, pressing the matter further, causing the apprentice to stop mid-stride. “Because if primary evidence isn’t explicitly required, might I offer my services as a master forger?” The man spoke with a hint of mischievousness, the duality of the word perhaps translating equally well despite the language barrier.
“I may need to contact my superiors to ask if a… copy will be satisfactory to their needs. I believe not, but… we shall see. In any case, I am due to submit the evidence along with my report no later than the end of next week. As such, this should give me ample time to organize my findings, which is especially convenient given the roster of duties I am expected to cover over the next few days.” The apprentice took a moment to pinch the bridge of her nose, halting her rambles as she steadied herself with a sigh. “But I digress, I believe I will take you up on that offer, Professor Pliska.”
“It would be my pleasure to welcome you into my domain, apprentice.”
The rest of the footage consisted of small talk between the pair, with nothing in particular standing out as the topics being addressed soon turned from high-stakes espionage, and back into faculty banter.
Yet despite that, none of us broke the silence that now dominated the boring trip back. Not even as the footage came to a complete stop, and there was nothing more left to play.
I leaned back against the armor, eliciting a series of creaks from the couch below me, echoing across the high-ceilinged room and disrupting the tentative peace that came with this ominous silence.
“This explains… a lot.” Thalmin offered, finally breaking the silence with a tentative tone of voice. “It explains your contract, and its abrupt cessation.” He continued, turning towards Ilunor. “It explains Mal’tory, or at least, his current lack of public appearances. And it reveals to us exactly what he was trying to hide from you, Emma.” The lupinor eventually turned towards me. “And I think the sections of the library, selectively pruned, are self-explanatory as well.”
“Section four, and section five, at least.” I replied shortly thereafter. “I have no idea who or what Alaroy Rital has to hide in section three, and don’t even get me started on section two, let alone section one.” It was at that point that I turned towards Thacea, who let out a sharp exhale upon me bringing up section one.
“The removal of all information relevant to… and I quote — Tainted Realities — speaks volumes to the inherent fears of the Nexus. Though I know not what specifically they may fear from your discovery of its deep and now-lost lore.” Thacea offered through a pensive gaze. “There are many rumors, legends that come with the phrase Tainted Reality. Though most are mythical; epics of long lost eras that dwell between the blurry line that exists between history and legend. Perhaps the records within the library were pieces of irrefutable evidence that would’ve shed light on this nebulous subject matter. But even so… that begs the question… why? Why would they hide what is effectively a non-issue when it comes to your discovery of its lore? Taint, and more specifically, the concept of a Tainted Reality, is something that is inconsequential in the contemporary world. Its history, even if it proves to be true, is neither a disruptive political element, nor a practical tool for war, that could be used in countering the Nexus.” The avinor’s explanations were clear, concise, and yet they belied something personal that she clearly wasn’t broaching.
And I wasn’t about to dig either, not when this topic very clearly hit close to home for her.
“This leaves the second subject matter then.” I offered, giving the avinor an off-ramp towards a potentially more palatable topic.
“The Unspoken War and the Treacherous Alliance?”
“Correct.” I nodded.
“That… I have no knowledge of.” The avinor admitted, prompting me to turn to both the lupinor and the Vunerian for answers.
“Don’t look at me, earthrealmer, I’m the one who lost all memories on the subject, remember?” Ilunor countered.
“I’m afraid I’m as in the dark as you are on this one, Emma.” Thalmin replied with a loud huff, leaving me with perhaps more questions than answers at this point.
“Right then.” I nodded. “Well, regardless, as disquieting, confusing, and disturbing as these revelations have been, they are exactly that — revelations.” I took a moment to stand up, resting both hands on my hips, as if adopting Ilunor’s more theatrical approach to things. “We started today off with no intel on Mal’tory, with no idea how we were going to complete The Library’s Seekership questline, and no knowledge on exactly where we stood in this game. We’re ending today off with a firm grasp on exactly what we need to do, what exactly was scorched in the library, and a tentative understanding on Mal’tory’s fate. I’d say that’s an incredible step forward, even if the answers we now have are leading to even more questions.”
“Reality is often filled with disturbing truths, but only when we acknowledge them, can we act to change them.” Thacea offered.
“Here here!” Thalmin reaffirmed through a firm stomp, standing up tall and ready.
“While certain revelations come as disappointments… namely the survival of Professor Mal’tory… it is indeed somewhat satisfying to hear that the man is at the very least suffering for his actions.” The little thing spoke maliciously, as he too stood up. This prompted a look of worry to form amidst all three of us, but instead of reacting accordingly, he instead displayed an expression of confusion. “What? The man was a monster! He actively antagonized not only me, but this entire group! Surely you also feel at least some sense of satisfaction at the consequences of his actions catching up to him!”
“The delight in an enemy’s defeat, best comes from the resistance of the blade against his body. Not from the suffering incurred from happenstance.” Thalmin countered, whilst Thacea and I refused to entertain that line of thought, as I quickly placed a palm across my forehead, bonking it once again in the process.
“Right, well, here’s the game plan. We now have a clear target to complete our first objective — the notebook. We grab that, hand it in to the library, and presto, we accomplish the Seekership questline. Now comes the difficult part… how exactly do we do that?” I turned to the group, as offers and suggestions finally came flying in.
“Take advantage of your life debt?” Ilunor offered.
“I wouldn’t take advantage of that card just yet, Ilunor. Not if we have other options.” Thacea countered.
“What if we steal it?” Thalmin proposed.
“Thievery isn’t a diplomatic approach, Thalmin.” Thacea shot back with a glare.
“Well, Emma here was able to grapple her way, through manaless means, across the outside of the castle towards the apprentice whilst she was in the medical wing. I’m sure we can pull something else off in a similar capacity!” The lupinor countered.
“No, Thalmin. As much as I would like to try, I believe it might be best if we try a more diplomatic approach.” I offered, prompting the three to cock their heads.
“We could just ask, right?”
First Previous Next
​
(Author’s Note: And there we have it! The first step towards the completion of the Library's questline! We've found exactly what we were looking for, the list of books that were ordered to be put to the dragon flame by Mal'tory. With that being said however, a new series of questions arises... exactly why were these books targeted in particular? Moreover, what exactly was lost as a result? These questions and more will continue to linger in the back the gangs' minds as we push forward! Especially as we now find ourselves in the midst of another conundrum, exactly how are we going to get the book to the library! Regardless, this is still a massive step forward, and one that will surely bring Emma and Ilunor closer towards addressing the first phase of their intertwined fates with the library! I hope you guys enjoy! :D The next Two Chapters are already up on Patreon if you guys are interested in getting early access to future chapters!)
[If you guys want to help support me and these stories, here's my ko-fi ! And my Patreon for early chapter releases (Chapter 84 and Chapter 85 of this story is already out on there!)]

Platform(s): PC Genre: puzzle game Estimated year of release: 1993-1995 Graphics/art style: The theme was Egyptian and the colour scheme beige/brown. Notable characters: Unknown Notable gameplay mechanics: In the game you have to solve puzzles and/or find keys to get to the next level. Other details: Something to do with triangles
My mom was describing a game she played back around 1993/1994/1995. Does anyone know what game this might be? You answers are welcome!

Tackling Your PHP Contact Form Dilemma

Dealing with a contact form that fails to send an email on the first try can be a frustrating experience, especially if you're not well-versed in web development. This common issue often surfaces when customizing templates, where the primary focus is on the aesthetics defined by HTML and CSS rather than the underlying functionality. The scenario typically involves a PHP-based contact form, which, instead of functioning seamlessly from the get-go, requires a second attempt to successfully dispatch the user's message. Such a situation not only hampers the user experience but also poses a significant barrier to effective communication between website owners and their audience.
The root of this problem often lies in the PHP script assigned to handle form submissions. While replacing a non-functioning PHP file with a seemingly operational one from another source might seem like a straightforward solution, the integration process can introduce unforeseen challenges. These challenges might stem from conflicts between the script and the website's existing infrastructure or from overlooked configurations necessary for the script to operate correctly within a new environment. Understanding the technical nuances of this process is essential for troubleshooting and ultimately ensuring that your contact form works reliably from the first submission.

Command/Function	Description
mail()	Sends an email from a script
$_POST[]	Collects form data after submitting an HTML form with method="post"
htmlspecialchars()	Converts special characters to HTML entities to prevent XSS attacks
filter_var()	Filters a variable with a specified filter
isset()	Checks if a variable is set and is not null

Delving Deeper into Contact Form Challenges

Understanding the intricacies of PHP contact forms is crucial for web developers and site owners aiming to provide a seamless user experience. One common pitfall is the misconfiguration of the server or mail function, leading to the initial failure of email sending. This issue often arises from server-side restrictions or incorrect SMTP settings, which are not always immediately apparent. Additionally, the complexity of PHP mail functions can introduce variables that are overlooked during initial setup, such as the need for proper headers to ensure email deliverability. These headers include content-type declarations and MIME version specifications, which help in correctly formatting the email so that it's recognized and properly displayed by email clients.
Another significant aspect to consider is the security of your contact form. Implementing basic validations on both client and server sides is essential to prevent common security threats like SQL injection and cross-site scripting (XSS). Furthermore, using CAPTCHA or similar verification methods can help in mitigating spam and automated submissions, which not only affect the site's performance but can also lead to blacklisting by email service providers. Ensuring that your PHP contact form is both functional and secure requires a holistic approach, focusing on reliability, user experience, and security measures. By addressing these areas, developers can significantly reduce the likelihood of initial submission failures and enhance the overall effectiveness of their contact forms.

Essentials of PHP Mail Functionality

PHP Scripting Language

"; } else { echo "Email sending failed.
"; } }?> 

Debugging the Initial Send Failure

PHP Debugging Tips

"; } else { // Attempt to send email // Include the mail function from the first example here } } 

Enhancing PHP Contact Form Functionality and Security

When tackling issues with PHP contact forms, understanding the flow of data and error handling becomes paramount. The lack of immediate feedback or error messages on the first submission attempt could be indicative of underlying problems in the form's PHP script or server configuration. It's essential to implement comprehensive logging mechanisms to capture and review errors. Such logs can reveal if the script encounters specific conditional blocks that prevent email dispatch, or if server-side configurations, like PHP's mail functions, are not correctly set up. Additionally, optimizing the user experience by providing clear and immediate feedback on form submission status helps in reducing user confusion and improving interaction with the website.
Security measures extend beyond just preventing spam and malicious inputs; they also involve safeguarding the email sending process. Utilizing SMTP authentication for sending emails can enhance security, as it requires valid credentials, reducing the risk of being flagged as spam. Regularly updating the PHP version and libraries to patch known vulnerabilities is another crucial step. Educating oneself on secure coding practices and staying informed about common vulnerabilities can greatly mitigate risks. These efforts collectively contribute to not only making the contact form more reliable but also protecting sensitive data and maintaining the integrity of the website.

Frequently Asked Questions About PHP Contact Forms

1. Question: Why does my PHP contact form not send emails on the first attempt?
2. Answer: This could be due to server-side email configurations, script errors, or incorrect SMTP settings.
3. Question: How can I secure my PHP contact form against spam?
4. Answer: Implement CAPTCHA, use server-side validation, and filter inputs to prevent automated spam submissions.
5. Question: What are the essential components of a PHP mail function?
6. Answer: The essential components include the recipient's email, subject, message body, and additional headers for content type and encoding.
7. Question: How can I add attachments to emails sent from a PHP contact form?
8. Answer: Use the PHPMailer library, which supports attachments, SMTP, and more comprehensive email functionalities.
9. Question: How do I handle form submission errors in PHP?
10. Answer: Implement error logging and user feedback mechanisms to identify and inform about submission issues.
11. Question: Can I use PHP's mail() function with Gmail as the SMTP server?
12. Answer: Yes, but it requires configuring SMTP settings to use Gmail's server, including authentication.
13. Question: Why are emails sent from my PHP form going to the spam folder?
14. Answer: This may be due to lacking proper email headers, sender reputation, or not using SMTP authentication.
15. Question: How do I validate email addresses in PHP?
16. Answer: Use the filter_var() function with the FILTER_VALIDATE_EMAIL filter.
17. Question: Is it necessary to sanitize form inputs in PHP?
18. Answer: Absolutely, to prevent XSS and SQL injection attacks by using functions like htmlspecialchars() and prepared statements.
19. Question: How can I improve the user experience of my PHP contact form?
20. Answer: Provide immediate feedback on submission, validate inputs client-side, and ensure the form is accessible and responsive.

Final Thoughts on PHP Contact Form Quirks

Addressing the challenge of a PHP contact form that fails to send an email on the first attempt demands a comprehensive approach. This exploration underscores the importance of verifying server-side configurations, employing robust validation and sanitization techniques, and ensuring the security of the form against malicious inputs and spam. Key practices such as using SMTP authentication for email sending, implementing CAPTCHA for spam prevention, and providing clear user feedback are instrumental in enhancing form functionality. By adopting these strategies, developers can not only troubleshoot and resolve initial sending issues but also significantly improve the user experience and security posture of their websites. The journey from identifying the problem to implementing a solution highlights the dynamic nature of web development and the continuous need for learning and adaptation. As technology evolves, so do the challenges and solutions in creating effective and secure online communication platforms.
https://www.tempmail.us.com/en/php/troubleshooting-php-contact-form-issues-on-first-submission

I have been with my wife for 8 years now we recently had our 7 year wedding anniversary. In the beginning of our marriage and relationship things were amazing. My wife has been married twice before me and has kids with both previous husbands. I have also been married twice before her me mostly being young and dumb and trying to rush life, I have never had children with either of my previous wives. After we were married we decided to have children which I expressed to her I never intended on having children with someone I didn't plan to be with forever.
I did not want my children apart of a broken home. Fast forward 6 years, I confronted my wife on the suspicion that she had possibly slept with one of my best friends before her and I ever knew each other this was a friend that we regularly were around and hung with. She assured me several times that she had never slept with him or done anything to him. Well not long after that I over hear my wife drunkingly talking to one of her friends telling her friend that she did sleep with him but didn't want me to find out. I know no one here knows me so I'll start off by saying we all have a past and that's fine I just ask not to be lied to and give and recieve complete honesty. I don't think anyone wants to be hanging out on a regular basis with there spouse hanging around someone they have slept with . I didn't call her out in it immediately but it ate away at me for weeks why would you lie about that I asked myself? Looking me straight in my eyes and lied over and over.
A month or so goes by and my wife is drunk and I bring it up to her, once again she denies it but I told her i overheard her telling her friend so I know she's lying. Now I'm not the type of male who is very jealous and I definitely don't play the going through your phone game because I'm committed and I give my wife my trust. Well I when I confronted her on this issue I called her out on some other shady behavior, she was going through one of her photo apps and there was a video of her ex boyfriend masturbating. Clearly by this point I am infuriated. She swears she didn't know it was on there and she thought it was deleted. We are in a public parking lot inside the car when all this goes down she freaks out and jumps out of the car, I beg and plead for her to get back in the car as this is my children's mother and I would never do anything to publicly embarrass her. Well she ends up drawing a lot of attention to herself and gets arrested since she is drunk and not calming down and refuses to get back in the car with me so I can take her home.
Fast forward about 3 months. My wife and I had been out to eat and on our way home got into a arguement. Once we arrived home she asked me "doing you like living here"? Which I thought was odd but I replied yes why wouldn't I? We finally have a nice house sitting on a farm with beautiful views it's everything Iv always wanted, she replied with "ok". She said she was going to go for a walk to clear her head and I said ok I was going to use the bathroom. I got out of the bathroom and I couldn't quit thinking why would she ask such a question she knows I love living here. I went to her car because there's a pistol in to glove box and I'm trying to cross the worst scenarios out of my head. The glove box was locked as it usually is and she took her car key with her. I ran inside and got the spare and went back to the car and unlocked the glove box and the pistol is missing.
I immediately track her location and see she is in a near field. I jump in my truck and go to where she is at I find her sitting by A brush pile listening sad music with the gun in her lap. I am able to get the gun from her then she takes off running through the field towards our house. At this point it is like my wife has had a complete mental break down and idk what to do I start calling her mom and dad they don't answer I call her daughter who is in the military and In a different state freaking out telling her everything that's happening. My wife makes it home gets in her car and leaves and doesn't come back for hours I can't track her because she left her phone in the field where I found her. By this point I have gotten ahold of her mom and dad no one knows what to do. So we all come together once my wife arrives back home and tell her what ever is going on we want her to get help with it's therapy or medicine we don't care we are here for here and support whatever we have to do.
Time goes by and things are starting to get normal again after my wife refuses to take medicine or do anything for help. We did start marriage counseling we had scheduled 4 meetings to start with the first meeting we did as a couple the second meeting I did by myself and the third meeting was supposed to be my wife alone and on the 4th meeting it would be us as a couple again. Well when it came time for my wife to do her meeting she kept rescheduling over and over and I finally called her out on why she wasn't taking this serious. She said she was but she just had this or that going on etc all I heard was excuses. Now since you don't know my wife she is a very successful female that makes great money and is in amazing shape and literally had the perfect body even after kids, you would never even known she's had a kid and built very desirable.
I am 6' 2" and I go to the gym 5-6 times a week I have never cheated in any way form or fashion on my wife or done anything morally or ethically wrong towards our marriage I have always loved my wife and thought she was perfect. After these events started happening I started to question a lot of things and I found out my wife is as truthful as I thought she was. I don't believe my wife has ever cheated on me but she does seem to tell a lot of small lies or just flat out lies in general. My wife has in the last few years became psychotically jealous I'm not even allowed to eat with female coworkers and if I do I have to notify her and tell her where they are sitting in relation to where I'm sitting and what if anything they say to me. I have to tell her every time a female calls or text me etc.
I do not have any social media but my wife has almost all of them and I don't care but I would like to point out she has male friends on her social media both married and single but I'm not allowed to be friendly or joke or anything even with the people I work with and my wife knows all of them but at the same time my wife also works in a coed environment and I don't limit her on anything she does nor do I ask or care because I love her and trust her. She has recently gotten mad that she shares her location with me but I don't share mine with her, I never asked her to share hers with me she just randomly did one day but since I don't do anything wrong and have nothing to hide I started sharing mine as well. Well that became a problem while we're both at work I would be question about why have I been at a particular location for 10 min or why have I been here or there etc and that got really old really quick.
A few months go by and my wife starts a physical altercation with me I have never in my life hit a woman nor did I that night but I did keep pushing her off of me as I tried gathering my stuff for work so I could leave and go somewhere else. Long story short the police showed up I didn't have a shirt on and was covered in scratch and bite marks. Luckily I was able to leave and no one would go to jail, both our careers would've been ruined if either of us would've went to jail. After leaving that night I go to a hotel from that night forward I don't come home for 2 weeks I stay at hotels or family's house still in shock of how all this has came about. How close we were to losing everything we have including our careers over her behavior. I tell my wife I want time away from her to think things through. She tells me after two weeks of not sleeping under the same roof as her I need to come home because our children are asking a lot of questions I was skeptical but I returned and only for my kids I love my kids more than anything and during this 2 week period of being gone from them I would show up as my wife left for work and take them to school and pick them up and still see them and do stuff with them.
I started staying back at home for my kids my wife and I still haven't slept in the same bed I am devistated on what to do about my marriage I can't handle a controlling and psychotically jealous wife anymore. This is not all that's going on in my marriage just some of the big things. I feel like I do most of the house work and I do all of the outside work. I clean, do dishes, do laundry etc I hate not having a clean and organized house. Lately things have been getting out of control with spending financially. All of this combined is driving me crazy. I told my wife 3 times I wanted a divorce but she begs me and tells me how everything can and will be better. She did start medicine for whatever is going on with her mentally but honestly not much has changed not like she promised. She still leaves the house and goes drinking with her friends and doesn't come home until late into the night etc. I don't know what to do I am beyond devastated to think about what a divorce would do to my kids 5 & 6.
I can't stand the thought of them possibly having another father figure in their future. I have days where I feel strong enough to divorce and I know everything will be ok and be fine and then I have days where I question if I would be able to make it through something like that or not. I feel really confused on what to do my wife's behavior hasn't changed much and the only reason there's been any change at all is because I told her I wanted a divorce and I feel like she's trying to look really good right now and show me this "change". I worry what if I'm never happy again what if I never have this life of fun and happiness like I had before all these issues started happen for the last year and a half. I'm really stuck on what to do.

I still have not read past Children. I'm still currently re-reading it (god I have trouble reading through that book). But I'm still damn confident about what I'm trying to say, here. Maybe it's not authorial intent, but even if it isn't, this line of thinking keeps tying everything together way too well for me to not think about it.
Dune talks about God a whole heck of a lot. If you include appendix "god" shows up something like forty times in the first book. People talk about capital G God, the Jungian Great Mother is a goddess, Paul is called small-g god as Emperor (or at least godhead), as The Preacher he "brings" and "speaks for" the Hand of God, Leto-II declares himself big-G God-Emperor.
All of this god-talk seems to get brushed past, and that's unfortunate, because I'm fairly sure that some of Dune's "railroad to disaster" storylines are governed more by "God" than by prescience itself; God is race consciousness. This goes a long way towards understanding some aspects of Dune that people find strange or weak. Let me explain.

He remained silent, thinking like the seed he was, *thinking with the race consciousness he had first experienced as terrible purpose.* He found that he no longer could hate the Bene Gesserit or the Emperor or even the Harkonnens. They were all caught up in the need of their race to renew its scattered inheritance, to cross and mingle and infuse their bloodlines in a great new pooling of genes. And the race knew only one sure way for this-- the ancient way, the tried and certain way that rolled over everything in it's path: jihad.

Whether race consciousness is just the Jungian collective unconscious or a more literal super-consciousness (I think it's more literally mystic and I'll get to that), the key thing here is that Paul was thinking with the race consciousness. It's worded like it's an instinct within him, same as it is for everybody else, like he's using that "instead of" his brain (not literally, but that's how it's worded). What does the race consciousness want? Jihad. What is literally every character in Dune doing? Railroading towards Jihad, whether they know it or not. The "race consciousness" is doing that, not some sort of prescience-induced predestination.

Sire, Paul thought. The word had such a strange sound when directed at him. Sire had always been his father. He felt himself touched briefly by his powers of prescience, seeing himself *infected* (emphasis mine) by the wild race consciousness that was moving the human universe towards chaos. The vision left him shaken...

I think this passage is easy to misread. Paul's powers of prescience are not race consciousness. He sees, with his prescience, a future in which he is infected by race consciousness. A future in which, like everyone else, he follows it's bidding, which we already know is jihad. Also, note that this is a wild race consciousness. The use of the word wild here is conspicuous because it only shows up in this context, seemingly.
In Chapter 32, Jessica gives herself up to a "demanding memory" and speaks some stuff automatically which the Fremen interpret as a prophetic sign, confirmation that she's the woman their prophecies are about.

Her mind felt as though it had rolled over within her. She recognized the sensation with a quickening of pulse. Nothing in all the Bene Gesserit training carried such a signal of recognition. It could only be the adab, the demanding memory that comes upon you of itself. She gave herself up to it, allowing the words to flow from her... "The fire of God mount over thy heart," she said. And she thought: *Now, it goes in the proper channel.*

The fire of God now goes through the proper channel? Through her, because the memory of that specific scripture came to her unprompted?

Paul took a deep breath, trying to still the tempest within him. His mother's words had locked onto the working of the spice essence, and he had flet her voice rise and fall within him like the shadows of an open fire. Trough it all, he had sensed the edge of cynicism in her--he knew her so well!--But nothing could stop this thing that had begun with a morsel of food. *Terrible purpose!* He sensed it, the race consciousness that he could not escape...

Jessica had a "holy spirit" moment. Paul, having just ate a load of spice, was prepared to actively notice that her words, which she characterized as the Fire of God, "activated" the terrible purpose, the race consciousness within him, even though both of them were cynical about what was occurring. (I should note that Paul also discovers, moments later, the fact that his looking into the future actively messes with it, a key idea for Messiah IMO.)
Another moment where Paul considers the unstoppable race consciousness in chapter 34:

Somewhere ahead of him on this path, the fanatic hoards cut their gory path across the universe in his name. The green and black Atreides banner would become a symbol of terror. Wild legions would charge into battle screaming their war cry: "Muad'Dib!" It must not be, he thought. I cannot let it happen. But he could feel the demanding race consciousness within him, his own terrible purpose, and he knew that no small thing could defeat the juggernaut... If he died this instant, the thing would go on through his mother and his unborn sister. Nothing less than the deaths of all the troop gathered here and now... could stop the thing.

The race consciousness of humanity has concentrated all of it's efforts on creating Paul (which becomes more clear later). So Paul, and anyone sufficiently close to him, is carrying this "terrible purpose" humanity's race consciousness has prepared him for. It could be said that they're all already "infected" by it. Maybe Paul is too, but can't really see it in himself? Certainly what I think, see here.
In Chapter 40 Paul specifically considers that the "terrible purpose" of humanity's race consciousness is the most constant thing between his visions and reality, it never changes.

The differences in the ways he comprehended the universe haunted him-- accuracy matched with inaccuracy. He saw it in situ. Yet, when it was born, when it came into the pressures of reality, the now had it's own life and grew with it's own subtle differences. Terrible purpose remained. Race consciousness remained. And over all loomed the jihad, bloody and wild.

Finally, the most memorable passage in Dune in it's final chapter is all about this inevitability:

he sampled the time-winds, sensing the turmoil, the storm nexus that now focused on this moment place. Even the faint gaps were closed now. Here was reason enough (emphasis mine) for a Kwisatz Haderach or a Lisan al-Gaib or even the halting schemes of the Bene Gesserit. The race of humans had felt it's own dormancy, sensed itself grown stale and knew now only the need to experience turmoil in which the genes would mingle and the strong new mixtures survive. All humans were alive as an unconscious single organism in this moment, experiencing a kind of sexual heat that cold overcome any barrier. And Paul saw how futile were any efforts of his to change any smallest bit of this. He had thought to opposed the Jihad within himself, but the jihad would be.

Finally, Herbert directly states what the race consciousness of humanity wants. It wants it's war, because it's convinced that war increases humanity's genetic fitness. And that isn't just within other people, it's in Paul, too, and he couldn't oppose it, even within himself.
Note that even "the halting schemes of the Bene Gesserit" are listed as a puppet of race consciousness _alongside_ the Kwisatz Haderach rather than them being it's true source. That idea is brought to fruition in Appendix III: Report on Bene Gesserit motives and purposes. In that appendix, it's rightly asserted that the BG's actions (or lack of action) regarding the Arrakis Affair were _shockingly_ incompetent. The author of that appendix concludes this way:

In the face of these facts, one is led to the inescapable conclusion that the inefficient Bene Gesserit behavior in this affair was a product of an even higher plan of which they were completely unaware!

Higher plans? Plans from on high? Like... God's plan? Like the Fire of God briefly channeled through Jessica. It has already been stated several times that the Bene Gesserit are puppets of race consciousness. In Dune, race consciousness is God.

"The Fremen will have the word of Muad'Dib," Paul said. "There will be flowing water here open to the sky and green oases rich with good things. But we have the spice to think of, too. There will always be desert on Arrakis... and fierce winds, and trials to toughen a man. We Fremen have a saying: 'God created Arrakis to train the faithful.' One cannot go against the word of God."

Paul is thoroughly convinced that race consciousness has locked the jihad in place. It can't be stopped. And now he says that the Fremen will be trained for war on Arrakis, like the Sardaukar, because "one cannot go against the word of God". Once again, race consciousness is God.
You know how people sometimes question why the heck the Fremen went through with the Jihad? Like, what actually possessed them to do that? What in their religion or what rationale suggested to them that they should go wipe out dozens of planets? It seems absurd for the same reason the BG's actions seem absurd when they're considered closely. They're acting on animal instinct, and animal instinct had a plan.
Dune: Messiah has slightly less to say about God, but it's still got something to say. It seems conspicuous to me that capital G God is brought up less now that Paul's terrible purpose has been carried out. It's got less to influence, now.

"There exists no separation between gods and men; one blends softly casual into the other. --*PROVERBS OF MUAD'DIB

Paul's words. Men bleed into gods and vice-versa... because it's just a matter of how much sway they have in humanity's race-consciousness.

"I'm a figurehead. When godhead's given, that's the one thing the so-called god no longer controls." A bitter laugh shook through him.

Within Fremen religion Paul's seen as the "godhead". Godhead is an idea common to spiritual systems where everything is on some level divine-- the godhead is the point from which all else emanates, or _is concentrated._ Race consciousness was concentrated in Paul as the Kwisatz Haderach.

I never wanted to be a god, he thought. I wanted only to disappear like a jewel of trace dew caught by the morning. I wanted to escape the angls and the damned--alone...as though by an oversight.

Paul does see himself as a sort of god. It's a role that has been thrust upon him, and it's noted that there are less gods than there used to be. But he is not capital G God.
You know who _IS_ capital G God? Motherfucking God-Emperor Leto II Atreides. I am aware that he is literally referred to as God, and that his Golden Path, his method of avoiding Krazilec, involves effectively shepherding humanity's overall thought-process and instincts. A good chunk of Children of Dune is about Leto learning to control his own ego-memories, and he finds Harum.

Leto's awareness floated free, no objective psyche to compensate for consciousness, no barriers. Namri's "provisional future" remained lightly in his memory, but it shared awareness with many futures. And in this shattering awareness, all of his past, every inner life became his own. With the help of the greatest within him, he dominated. They were his. He thought: When you study an object from a distance, only it's principle may be seen. He had achieved the distance necessary and he could see his own life now: the multi-past and its memories were his burden, his joy, and his necessity. But the worm trip had added another dimension and his father no longer stood guard within him because the need no longer existed. Leto saw through the distances clearly-- past and present. And the past presented him with an ultimate ancestor-- one who was called Harum and without whom the distant future would not be. These clear distances provided new principles, new dimensions of sharing. Whichever life he now chose, he'd live it out in an autonomous sphere of mass experience, a trail of lives so convoluted that no single lifetime could count the generations of it. Aroused, this mass experience held the power to subdue his selfdom. It could make itself felt upon an individual, a nation, a society or an entire civilization.

Leto lives his life as an "autonomous sphere of mass experience" which could dominate not only his personal selfdom, but a "nation, society or an entire civilization". Paul certainly couldn't do that, he knew he couldn't do it because race consciousness ruled. Considering where Leto II's newfound enlightenment(?) leads, it seems safe to say that he became something no human had ever been before. It's like he's wrangled so much of humanity's past in his head and actually mastered it that he's the majority stakeholder of race consciousness, he holds the reigns now. And so he calls himself God.
It's sometimes asked why Herbert wrote God-Emperor, because it seems to contradict Herbert's own earlier warnings about Paul. I suspect that this is the distinction. Paul was human and ultimately subject to human flaws and instincts, in fact he was created by human flaws and instincts, which is a pretty good description of most dictators, other people prop them up. Leto, though, isn't burdened by these things. He is no longer controlled by race-consciousness, so he can be a true philosopher-king. Herbert can therefore explore how he thinks a "perfect human" who has mastered their instincts might rule.
...Oh also, as far as race-consciousness only being a Jungian collective unconscious, all I have to ask is if that's the case, why are people in these books inserting themselves into the consciousness of other people? Particularly Paul's assertion that if the Reverend Mother "looks in that place she dare not look", she'll see him. That's not _just_ genetic memories. And in the same scene, Alia effectively uses this to communicate with the Reverend Mother, who is convinced that Alia really, really shouldn't be there, like it's an unnatural aberration. Explicitly stated to not be "TP" (telepathy), exactly.

Lydia awoke with Waldo screaming. Lydia quickly got up and activated the magic stones lighting the room, Lydia did not see a reason for him to be screaming and was about to wake him when he went quiet. Lydia wondered what had happened and as she watched him she became concerned he was not breathing but just as she was about to shake him away he started breathing again then he began to weep in his sleep saying “I would take it back if I could. I did not know what it meant. Please, I never meant for this.” Lydia watched over him for several minutes as he repeated this over and over. Lydia did not know why but after a while she embraced him gently.
“It is ok. We all make mistakes.” Lydia said quietly holding him. She did not entirely know why she chose to do this as she felt some concern over what he was apologizing for having done but something made her decide to stay with him. Eventually, he stopped and started sleeping peacefully. Lydia slowly fell back to sleep after he quieted and returned to a peaceful state.
Lydia awoke again with Waldo sitting dressed on the edge of the bed. “Good Morning.”
“Good Morning.” Waldo replied, turning to Lydia. “Sorry, if I woke you in the night. I do not always sleep well.”
“I can understand that. It took almost a year before I could sleep through the night.” Lydia replied.
“I brought breakfast up. Kna mentioned I screamed in the middle of the night. I rarely have a companion… So I did not know. I guess I was extra loud last night. I woke some other patrons.” Waldo said calmly. Lydia climbed out of bed and dressed herself as Waldo watched her but when she looked at him she felt he was lost in his own mind.
"Copper for your thoughts.” Lydia said as she started to lace up her dress. Waldo walked over to her and helped her.
“I thought I knew who I was…but I remembered things last night…” Waldo said hollowly. “I don’t know what I was fighting for… All that time as a soldier and now I remembered… what I learned before arriving here and it isn’t what I thought.”
“Do you want to elaborate?” Lydia asked.
“I am not sure I know how.” Waldo said and there was silence for a moment.
“Well, maybe you should stay here if you don’t know why you were fighting. At least, until you figure out what you want.” Lydia said and feeling better about what she had heard last night she kissed him gently on the cheek. “Thank you. I would stay for breakfast but I need to get to work.” Lydia said, grabbing a piece of bread with an egg off the plate.
“Have a nice day and I hope to see you later.” Waldo said, as she headed toward the door.
“Good luck today!” Lydia said, smiling and left. Waldo collected several things from his pack then stored it under the bed and took the plate of food to the common room where he ate slowly. Waldo noticed that Lydia was not in the common room as he ate breakfast. Waldo did not have to wait long after finishing his breakfast before Strisk arrived.
“Good Morning!” Strisk waved at Waldo moving across the common room.
“Greetings Strisk.” Waldo replied standing and moving to meet him.
“Are you ready to go down to the training grounds?” Strisk asked.
“Yeah, let’s head out.” Waldo said, motioning for Strisk to lead the way.
“Are you in a hurry?” Strisk asked, leading Waldo out.
“No, nothing like that just…” Waldo stopped in the door exiting the inn as he looked out into the city. Waldo had expected Protham to be small but realized it had been dark when he arrived and late that is why he had not realized how expansive it was. Waldo saw a wall sixty or seventy feet tall. Waldo stepped into the street and could see a gate two hundred or so feet down the road in one direction and in the other there was what appeared to be a small square. “How big is Protham?”
“It is just a small village, only five thousand or so. Most people are employed in fishing the lake or harvesting trees.” Strisk replied. “The gnolls recently opened a college here… Something about ley lines and increased power, but that is not my expertise.”
“I am surprised they even care about the ley line. The planet is so saturated with magic I would have thought everyone can easily use it.” Waldo responded.
“I wouldn’t know about that. Are you a mage?” Strisk asked.
“I cannot use magic… I can still feel it pooling.” Waldo said, wondering why he could feel it still since he now knew he could not use it. “It must be something to do with the leveling. I wonder if there is a construct powering the whole system.”
“You are suggesting a magic artifact causes people to level?”Strisk asked, shocked at the strangeness of the idea.
“Um… So I assume it is a mage college of some kind they opened?” Waldo asked, trying to change topics.
“Yeah. I would have suggested going and seeing the head there about your teleporting but from what I have heard they see almost no one who isn’t a student.” Strisk said, starting to walk down the street. Waldo followed, taking in the people and the streets. Waldo noticed most people were gnollish he saw drakes as well but it seemed to be ten to one.
“Lydia said you are a Drake. I have never learned to identify the scaled races apart from one another. It appears that Protham is mostly gnolls and Drakes. What makes a drake a drake and not say a lizardfolk?” Waldo asked, carefully.
“Lydia is right. I am a Drake. Lizardfolk always have tails. Drakes rarely have tails and those that do have a tail almost always have wings. That is usually the easiest way to tell us apart but it is more nuanced. A healthy Drake’s scales are vibrant, we stand out. A healthy lizardfolk has duller scales. Drakes can have horns or spikes across their head and back but never hair. Lizardfolk never have horns but can grow spikes. Usually they grow something more like a fin, which can be over their head or even down their chin to their chest. All the facial features are nuanced except the eye. Drake’s eyes face forward. Lizardfolk’s eyes face out enough to easily tell if you look at them.” Strisk explained calmly. “Kobolds are short but look like Drakes with a tail and all the other scaled races have gills.”
“Thank you. I realize that might have been rude to ask but I assume it is ruder to make a mistake.” Waldo said as they continued to make their way through the mostly empty streets.
“Most drakes consider it the pinnacle of rudeness to mistake us for the lizardfolk. Well the lizardfolk seem indifferent. I once saw a short Lizardman get mistaken for a Kobold and they laughed about it. Well a few days ago I had to break up a bar fight cause a gnoll called a drake a lizard.” Strisk said. “My people need to calm down about being mistaken for another race. Most cannot even tell the other races apart. No offense, but I assume you are a human because Lydia is one without looking at your ears, which are currently covered by your hair you could pass for an elf in my eyes and if you told me you were a dwarf I would believe it… even though, I think you are too tall to be a dwarf.” Waldo laughed at Strisk’s words.
“An elf you say?” Waldo said, smiling and moving his hair from over his ears. “I am a human. However, I can understand the confusion. Even among humans it is possible for some to mistake another human as one of our kin races.”
“Kin race?” Strisk asked.
“Yes, races that share certain broad features and where half races are possible.” Waldo said.
“Then would Drakes not be a Kin race.” Strisk asked.
“You ever seen a half human and half drake?” Waldo asked.
“Well no, but I was told it was possible.” Strisk said, wondering.
“Possible for our race's women’s bodies to respond as if they are creating a blend. However, it is largely my understanding no blend has survived birth. Maybe one is out there but largely our internal anatomy; bone structure, organ placement, organs in general, and finer points don’t blend into something that survives birth if a pregnancy occurs which to my knowledge is extremely rare and usually it is a half race not a full where that can occur according to one report I read most mothers die in labor if they carry the blend to term and the child still dies.” Waldo said calmly. Strisk stopped.
“How do you know this?” Strisk asked. Waldo thought about it for a moment. Realizing he did not know how to explain having millions of years of knowledge on hand a little surprised he had so easily recalled something from another life. As he thought about it he wondered how he could so easily access it. Then he knew. Four of his prior selves had learned to build a mind palace. When the Orc had implanted all the memories, those four had combined their knowledge and laid out everything, which made him wonder how he knew about the interbreeding of humans and drakes, which brought forth the memories of four doctors. One of which was drake. Strisk watched as Waldo stared off into the distance. Suddenly, Waldo went pale and threw up in the street. “What the hell?” Strisk said, jumping back to avoid getting splattered.
“Sorry.” Waldo said, feeling queasy. Waldo pushed the doctor’s memories away realizing he was not ready to go exploring all the memories aimlessly. Waldo pulled out his hip canteen and washed his mouth out. Spitting the water down a nearby drain “Damn. I was hoping to not have to eat until dinner. I assume the interview will have a combat skills test?” Waldo asked, looking at Strisk.
“Well yes, but what was that?” Strisk asked, feeling the response was unjustified for his question.
“Oh, right, your question. Um… I went to a memory I should have left alone. I was thinking about my time studying… when I strayed into an incident.” Waldo said, trying to explain without lying.
“An incident?” Strisk asked.
“I expect there are things you have seen as a city guard you would rather not remember.” Waldo replied, carefully.
“Oh… you mean something like that. I can understand that. Let’s continue on. Just another block or so.” Strisk said, letting Waldo follow him. Neither said anything until they got to the city's barracks. They had crossed near the center of town and were now at a lakeside gate that had a training arena with a large gatehouse next to it.
“How many positions is the guard filling?” Waldo asked as they approached the building.
“We are adding five new full time positions in hope of growth due to the mage college, three part time, and around fifty new reservists.” Strisk said and then opened the gatehouse’s front door.
“Good Morning, Strisk!” A female voice behind the counter greeted as they entered.
“Good Morning, Violet.” Strisk replied. “Is Trag in?”
“Yes, he got in a bit ago and…Who are you?” Violet asked, staring at Waldo as he entered the gatehouse.
“Waldo Winter.” Waldo said, step into the room and bowing slightly to the human girl behind the counter.
“He is with me. Violet. He arrived in town last night under strange circumstances.” Strisk said.
“Is he why you are meeting with Trag this early?” Violet asked, keeping her eyes on Waldo. “Is he a criminal?”
“Yes to the meeting with Trag and not as far as I am aware. You haven’t done anything illegal have you?” Strisk asked, grinning Waldo.
“Admittedly, I have not read your legal code, but assuming it follows traditional patterns of legal codes for structured societies. Not in this city. At least, I very much doubt I have.” Waldo said, smiling lightly at Violet.
“What are you doing here then?” Violet asked.
“Apart from identifying myself to local authorities due to the strange way I arrived. Hopefully, applying for a job.” Waldo stated. Violet frowned.
“Are you applying for citizenship in Protham or just submitting notice of intent to work in Protham?” Violet asked.
“Notice of intent to work, at this time.” Waldo replied, moving up to the desk as Strisk stepped away. Violet handed him a sheet of paper and pulled out a second enchanted page.
“Good luck finding work here. There are not many jobs outside of scribe, barworker, or general laborer for humans in Protham. The Drakes and Gnolls are larger and stronger than humans naturally and they are basically hiring enforcers right now.” Violet whispered to Waldo. “Where are you staying?”
“The Spriggan Inn.” Waldo said, looking at the form, surprised he could read it. As he started to fill out the form he remembered a passage about grown arrivals passing between world and being gifted languages of the worlds they arrived on from death. Waldo tried to remember the author's reasoning for the gift but could not. Waldo wished he had learned written gnollish languages but had only learned their spoken languages.
“How did you come to be there?” Violet said, showing surprise.
“Long story short…Some sort of teleportation accident.” Waldo answered, focused on completing the form.
“Wow… Lucky.” Violet said, thinking it strange he appeared in the only inn with a human working in it in Protham.
“Yes, but I suspect there is a good reason for that.” Waldo said, handing her the completed form.
“You how to read Grofeas gnoll?” Strisk asked, looking at Waldo holding the form out to Violet. “You said you had not heard of this country last night.” Violet took the form looking suspiciously at Waldo.
"No, I am familiar with other gnollish written languages and this is close enough to them that I guessed. Please check that and make sure my responses make sense.” Waldo said, looking at Violet. Waldo smiled at his omission. He was familiar with several gnoll written languages and had learned a few key words like bathroom, food, and price but had not even memorized their alphabet. Violet started to look over the document carefully. Waldo noticed the enchanted page on the desk had a picture of his face on it now with a list of several things about him, such as height, an approximate weight, and the like. Waldo heard a low growl with several inflections. Waldo looked at the gnoll standing by Strisk.
“Would you mind repeating that? I am not sure I quite heard what you said, because I thought you called me a fur lover.” Waldo said, looking narrowly at the gnoll. The gnoll made several more growls at Waldo. The gnoll had reddish brown fur and stood a little shorter than Strisk. Waldo thought the gnoll would probably be considered extremely handsome among gnolls. He was well groomed and clearly muscled under the fur. He even wore a steel breastplate that was polished to a shine. Waldo saw a stamp over his right peck that appeared to be a runic enchantment.
“Because I am not. I learned it at the time because my life depended on it. The gnolls I met were not as affluent as you are here and only knew one language. Their own. I had to learn it or live without speaking. Their treatment of me would have killed me if I had not learned their language. They knew next to nothing of humans and were a tribe secluded in the mountains. They meant well, but due to the harsh circumstances of the location I was slowly dying from starvation and exposure. It took four weeks to learn enough for rough communication after which I found them to be extremely friendly and curious. I spent two years with that tribe before making contact with a human settlement in the area. I managed to broker a peace there because I learned gnollish. So I continued my education and have since learned various spoken dialects.” Waldo responded to the newcomers' growls calmly.
“Why don’t you respond in gnollish?” The gnoll asked, changing languages. Waldo growled back in several inflections and moved a hand. Violet had noticed hand movements when gnolls growled and never associated it with them speaking but Waldo’s movements were so pronounced she realized it had to be part of the gnollish language. “Fair enough. I am Captain Trag. Strisk says you are a soldier.”
“Wait what did you say?” Violet asked Waldo.
“Violet. Don’t be rude.” Strisk chided, curious himself but having held himself back.
“I am sorry. I have just never seen a non-gnoll speak gnollish” Violet said, almost involuntarily. Trag slapped Strisk across the back of the head.
“Strisk, she is our scribe, do not order her around.” Trag said, smiling. Waldo got the sense that Trag did not like Strisk.
“I explained human throats are not well formed for the gnollish language, which hurts my throat the more I speak it and makes my accompanying hand movements more pronounced than is proper.” Waldo explained to Violet.
“Can you teach me?” Violet asked, seeing how beneficial it would be to know gnollish in her job.
“We can talk after the interview.” Waldo said, smiling at Violet.
“Right, sorry. Thank you.” Violet replied looking over at Trag apologetically.
“Excuse me for interrupting your conversation Violet. I will make sure to send Waldo back once we are done.” Trag said, smiling at Violet then turning to Waldo. “What level of soldier are you? Or is it some other fighting class?”
“I don’t have any levels in fighting classes.” Waldo replied.
“And you want to be a city guard?” Trag said looking angrily at Strisk who looked at Waldo surprised.
“Wait, are you a medic of somekind?” Strisk asked, remembering the other night.
“No, just give me a chance. We should go to the training ground if combat assessment is to be a large part of this process.” Waldo stated, a little surprised they had started asking questions in the entrance.
“It is. We can train you in Protham legal code, but we rarely do combat training for our guards; most people come to us with twenty or more levels in a combat class, when they are applying to be a guard.” Trag stated, as Waldo opened the door.
“Where I come from people do not rely on the leveling systems for combat training.” Waldo started walking to the training grounds as Trag and Strisk followed.
“Where are you from?” Trag asked.
“Halcyon. Heard of it?” Waldo asked, knowing the reply.
“Nope.” Trag replied, thinking this human could never keep up with a gnoll or drake in a fight. “What are you wearing?” Trag asked, no longer able to hold back the question as the human looked very strange to him.
“Desert Armored Combat Fatigues, my throwing knives, combat knife, an assortment of tools I have found useful over the years, and a magic sling.” Waldo said, touching different things on his body. “The armor is stab resistant and there are several metal plates spread out in the fabric. If I get the job I would like to wear this until I can afford to get some locally made gear.”
“A magic sling?” Trag asked.
“Yeah, but I have limited ammo for it. It only works with special magic ammo and I doubt you have that here.” Waldo replied.
“Have you heard of a magic sling Strisk?” Trag asked.
“No, that is new to me.” Strisk replied. “I thought you could not use magic.”
“I cannot not cast a magic spell but this is an artifact. I could teach anyone to use it. If I had unlimited ammo or access to a bullet manufacturer I would be happy to show it off but I only have ninety rounds for it.” Waldo explained.
“How long have you been a soldier?” Trag asked, Waldo had seen himself in a mirror and knew they would not believe the truth. Waldo looked like he was in his prime but Halcyon slowed aging massively Waldo was older than any human got to normally and he was still unsure if he had died or Death’s healing had further reduced the effects of aging.
“Nine years.” Waldo replied, pushing it as far as he thought he could. Waldo had put his age down as twenty nine on the form, but knew he looked closer to twenty now. “I expect I will be sparing with one of you?”
“No, we are waiting for your sparring partners. I sent for two reservists. They generally are not needed for regular guard shifts and if they are injured it should not interfere with their regular jobs.” Trag stated, show us how good you are with throwing knives.
“Alright.” Waldo said, pulling four of the weighted knives from their sheaths. Waldo carried twelve in all. Four on his left leg, two on each arm and four on his chest. Waldo started by juggling the knives as he moved into position to throw them. Waldo smoothly plucked them out of the air as he was juggling them and launched them one after another in quick succession down the lane, with the knives sinking deep into the wooden target in a tight group.
“For having no skills that is pretty good. Now for the moving targets.” Trag said, with Waldo looking back at him as he pressed a button. Waldo watched as the targets began to move side to side. Waldo could tell this was intended for arrows as the range was longer than he would usually throw when it came to moving targets.
“May I move up or do you want me to throw from here?” Waldo asked.
“Tark throws from there.” Trag replied, Waldo grabbed two more knives, throwing them half a second after looking back at the target. Both landed bullseyes but Waldo could feel the strain on his muscles. He was not used to this distance. Waldo pulled two more and turned his back to the targets. Waldo slowly strafed toward the center of the range as he had started to the right side. After a moment making sure to give the targets time to move he spun around and with one hand launched both knives. One landed in a bullseye, but the other fell short. Waldo turned his back to the targets and drew all of his remaining knives placing them at the ready in one hand. Waldo turned and threw three and turned back around quickly. He heard 2 thuds and one that was a clang. He was not sure what the third had hit. Waldo spun around and sent his final knife down the lane hitting another bullseye. The three quick throws were not bullseyes but they had all hit targets.
“That is all the throwing knives I carry.” Waldo said. “Shall I collect them?”
“No, Strisk go get the knives and report back on how deep they are.” Trag said, turning the moving targets off. Waldo moved over to Trag as Strisk retrieved the knives. “Only one complete miss, that is not bad. If you are hired then we are gonna have to replace the knives with some weighted rods. We can issue you some bolas while on duty. Unless a kill order is issued, but most the time we will expect people to be taken alive.”
“Understandable. What is a bolas?” Waldo asked.
“It is three pieces of rope tied to each other on one end and has a weight on the other side. When throwing it, the intent is to hit a person's legs and if it works correctly it will wrap around a fleeing person’s legs and trip them. In town it can be tricky to use and for people they have lighter weights. It was originally used to hunt various animals on the plains. If the weights are too heavy they can break bones.” Trag said, explained. “What class are you?”
Waldo had been preparing for this question since they had asked him earlier. “Diplomat.” Waldo replied.
“You have no levels in a combat class but you are a diplomat as a soldier?” Trag questioned.
“When I use skills from it as a soldier it is generally in interrogations, but my personal goal was to try and find less violent solutions to my nation's disputes. So, I ended up becoming a diplomat. The times I acted in that capacity I was glad to have trained as a soldier. Few people seem to want peaceful resolutions. So as a diplomat I have often been met with violence.” Waldo explained twisting the truth. They stood in silence as they waited for Strisk to finish retrieving the knives. Strisk handed Waldo eleven of the knives and Trag one of the knives.
“Six perfect hits. Three near perfects. Two hits. One miss. Ten hits were all very deep. The one that made the clang hit a metal frame holding the target. It dented the metal and chipped his knife.” Strisk reported as Waldo sheathed the eleven knives he had been handed. Waldo looked at Trag just in time to catch his face returning to a neutral state after what Waldo believed to be a frown.
“How is your hand to hand combat proficiency?”Trag asked.
“I am an expert with a knife, however, I could easily swap it out for a padded baton. It would be harder on me, but I am sure I can hold my own.” Waldo said, showing the knife sheathed across his lower back and trying to determine Trag’s mood. Trag examined the knife and could see it was custom made for Waldo and well used.
“Strisk, you are good to go on patrol. Your partner should be ready about now.” Trag said, with a hint of sadness.
“I was hoping to stay and see him fight the reservists.” Strisk said, a little excited and as Strisk said that it clicked for Waldo.
“No one is coming. To test my combat proficiency.” Waldo said, calmly. “Sorry, Strisk. I should have known better.”
“We should go to my office and talk.” Trag said and handed Waldo the chipped knife Strisk had handed him.
“Wait, why?” Strisk asked, Trag.
“Politics, Strisk. Guardsmen are just a little political, which means Trag cannot hire another human. Especially, not in a citizen-facing role.” Waldo said, with a smile. “Am I right?”
“Violet, is our scribe. Citizen’s see her.” Strisk said looking confused.
“Violet is my scribe. She assists with filing and compiling guardsmen reports. She has only covered the front desk on a few occasions and usually it is to give another scribe a break or chance to go to the bathroom.” Trag stated.
“Strisk, thank you for introducing me to Captain Trag. I truly appreciate this opportunity. I would be happy to speak to you in your office Trag.” Waldo said, smiling at both of them.
“Sorry, Waldo… I didn’t realize.” Strisk said dejectly. Waldo laughed lightly.
“You have done no harm at all and even helped me file documents I needed to in order to stay. You introduced me to your Captain. Strisk, you have been nothing but helpful. Please do not feel sorry.” Waldo said, smiling at Strisk.
“Thanks, I guess I should get going.” Strisk said, clearly feeling better. “Sir. Waldo.” Strisk said, nodding his head to each of them and leaving. Trag started heading towards the guard house and motioned for Waldo to follow, which Waldo did in silence. Trag opened the door and sure enough Violet was no longer at the front desk. There was a male Drake scribe sitting behind the counter.
“Sir.” The drake said, standing up to greet them. Trag waved his hand and the drake sat back down. Waldo followed him up a set of stairs and down a hall to an open room with three scribes working on various documents on a table big enough for four, one of which was Violet.
“Your morning report sir.” A female gnoll scribe said, smiling at Trag and holding a folder. She noticed Waldo and her demeanor changed slightly. She glanced at Violet as Trag grabbed the folder.
“Thank you. I have a meeting for a few minutes. Is there anything urgent?” Trag gestured at Waldo. The scribes all looked up and gave a negative nod. “If needed you may interrupt us.” Trag said, opening his office door and leading Waldo into his office. It was a plain room. There were several chairs facing the back of the room with a large desk and chair behind it facing the door. There were two sturdy looking bookcases organized with an assortment of documents. The room was clean and orderly. A couch sat against one wall with a window behind it that had shutters and Waldo noticed a plain axe with a rope next to it leaning against a bookcase. “Please take a seat.” Trag said, opening the folder as he moved around the desk and sat down. Waldo sat across from him. They sat in silence as Trag read over a few reports. “Thank you for your patience.” Trag said look up from the report.
“Anything important?” Waldo asked.
“No, just the normal going on. Except for you of course.” Trag said.
“Yeah, I made a surprising entrance last night.” Waldo agreed.
“Teleportation has a tendency to create some alerts. If Strisk had not reported your arrival last night, the guard may have interrupted your welcome to our fine city.” Trag replied.
“That report is more thorough than I would have liked.” Waldo stated.
“Kna is a friend and Aer is a gossip.” Trag replied.
“I should have waited in the common room. We could have talked last night.” Waldo guessed.
“Doubtful, but I would have known your face this morning if you had.” Trag stated.
“I had hoped this was an offer for contract work of some kind.” Waldo said, frowning slightly.
“It still might be. I have not determined what to do about you.” Trag replied.
“Oh, well is there something you would like cleared up?” Waldo asked, smiling.
“Kna is worried about one of her barmaids. Aer has never seen her friend respond so positively to someone so quickly.” Trag stated, calmly. Waldo knew they were straying into dangerous territory.
“I have never responded to another human as positively.” Waldo replied, honestly.
“Just two soulmates meeting for the first time?” Trag asked, Waldo jerked in surprise at the word reacting before he could stop himself. Waldo realized Trag did not mean it the way he had taken it but it was too late. Trag had been watching him closely and was now looking unsure at Waldo. “I think you have some explaining to do.” Trag said, prepared to strike. Waldo leaned forward and placed his head in his hand dropping his show.
“This cannot under any circumstances leave this room. If you have listeners they need to stop. If you have a way to make the room secure. I will tell you enough to know why.” Waldo said, unsure of what would happen next.
“What, so can you kill me in silence?” Trag asked, feeling concerned about this stranger's response.
“If you want to tie me up feel free, but I am not talking until I am confident the secret won’t leave this room.” Waldo said, sitting back and calming his nerves. Waldo was trying to figure out how to explain this with as little lying as possible. Waldo wondered if he could avoid lying all together. Trag hesitated for a minute then opened a drawer and pulled out a small box. Trag said a command word under his breath and the box activated.
“Alright, we are alone and no one can see or hear us. This better be good or I won’t keep your secret.” Trag said.
“Have you ever been in love so much it hurt your soul?” Waldo asked.
“What?” Trag asked, surprised.
“I have. If I had understood this was possible. If I had known. I would have done so many things differently.” Waldo said, deciding to be as honest as he felt he could. “I thought she was dead. I joined the wrong people to get vengeance. To make it stop. In doing, so I pissed off some really powerful people. I thought my master was strong enough to protect me and I thought I was powerful enough to protect myself. I want to tell Lydia so bad. I want her to remember our time together. Every second we spent together. If I had magic this would be so easy but using magic to accomplish it would be wrong.” Waldo said, with tears in his eyes. “I wish I could just show her. However, the people I pissed off took my ability to use magic. I did not even know that was possible.” Waldo said, holding out an open palm. “Light.” Trag felt magic tug slightly, but nothing happened. “They took my magic so I could not interfere. When they did that I thought they would send me to a prison cell or some equally horrible place. They cursed me with unwanted knowledge I can barely grasp. Part of my mind is still trying to rip itself apart. But instead of sending me to a desert. They toss me like I am nothing and I land inside Spriggan Inn, in Protham barely even hurt. I did know she was the same soul at first. Standing in the dim light of the inn. She looks the same. Alive working as a barmaid in a place I have never even heard of. She doesn’t even remember me but she was drawn to me just like I was to her all those years ago.” Waldo said. “Kna is worried I might hurt her and honestly so am I. However, if we are to separate again I would have her tell me to go. It would be the most painful thing I ever do but I would leave if she asked. I don’t blame you if you don’t believe me, but I have found my dead lover again, my soulmate and I never thought I would see her. She died so I figured that was it. I did not know about the cycle but now I do. So please give me the chance to win her.” Waldo finished with tears at the corners of his eyes. “Please, I am begging you.” Trag knew Waldo was leaving part out but felt he was being honest and looking at Waldo Trag knew he held this man’s life in his hands at this moment. Trag looked at Waldo and activated several skills he had for conversations like this. Trag knew Waldo did not intend harm at this time or harm to his city.
“For the moment. You have convinced me.” Trag said, still slightly concerned, something about him bothered Trag, but Trag was confident the stranger would be unlikely to deliberately cause problems in Protham.
“Thank you for giving me a chance. I will prove I mean no harm.” Waldo said, starting to recover his composure. Trag grabbed the rope and axe, placing them on his desk.
“Do you know how to cut down a tree?” Trag asked.
“Yes.” Waldo replied.
“As captain of the guard. I am allotted two trees every year. The town allows me to do as I will with the tree tokens, I am issued. The mill will pay me five gold per token on average. However, If I cut the tree down and turn in the tree with the token they will right now pay eight gold. If you cut a tree down and turn it in for me. I will let you keep two gold coins of those eight.” Trag stated placing a token on the table.
“Sounds like a good deal.” Waldo replied.
“Have you hunted boar?” Trag asked.
“I have hunted. Not specifically boar but I am familiar with the complexities they present.” Waldo replied, wondering where this was going.
“Currently, we have a boar problem on the western road and several groups have been attacked by boars. It is quite troublesome. Protham does not have an adventuring guild and most hunters will hunt safer game or only kill one or two boars at a time. You can rent a hand cart for a day for three coppers at the docks. Usually they are used to transport fish around town. They are sturdy carts and can hold several hundred kilos. There are several blacksmiths in town that sell quality steel tipped javelins, for a silver. Now they are not perfect for hunting boar but they should work well enough. Currently, I have placed a bounty on boar kills of a silver per boar jaw turned in. We will even buy the dead boar for one and half coppers per five pounds. However, you could show us the boar, collect the silver, then most local butchers will buy dead boar for two copper per five pounds. Those are the current rates for whole boars” Trag explained.
“Sounds like I have a tree to chop down.” Waldo said standing.
“Out the main gate past the mill and then pick an un-worked tree the taller the better. They pay less for trees shorter than twenty feet and more for trees taller than twenty five feet. If you are willing to search there are some forty and fifty footers out there. I expect six gold regardless.” Trag stated.
“Why are you doing this?” Waldo asked.
“It is not one thing. Lots of little things adding up. Kna is a friend and Lydia is important to her. Kna knows I cannot employ you as a guard. This keeps you out of trouble. Solves a problem for me and if you work hard. Kna might start to like you. I was not going to be able to cut my second tree down before the end of the year. There are more reasons, but in the end, I see no downside for me giving you this chance.” Trag stated plainly.
“Well thank you. I appreciate this.” Waldo said and picked up the axe smiling.
“Good Luck. I plan to eat dinner at Spriggan Inn. So if you get back after sunset you can find me there.” Trag said, gesturing for Waldo to leave.
“Thank you, again!” Waldo said, leaving. After he closed the door he looked for Violet but she was not there. Waldo headed to the stairs back to the entryway. Violet wasn’t there either so he left a message for her and headed back to the Inn. Waldo wanted to ditch his armor before heading out to cut down a tree.

Last year, when my ten year prison "stint" was finally up, and I re-entered society, I encountered some... obstacles.
Obstacles like.. Lack of upward mobility. Prejudices and stigmas. Wages and earnings lower than the general population. Undesirable and oftentimes dangerous jobs. And lack of protection from wrongful termination.
Not to mention, an already tough job market, and the fact that my parole required that I maintain steady employment, or face re-incarceration.
Which is why, when I finally got a job offer, after six months of aggressive job hunting, I jumped at the opportunity, giving absolutely no fucks as to how I was actually making ends meet.
"Ever operate a freight elevator before?" Mr. Winfred, the manager of "The Cornelius" and my new boss, asked me my first day on the job.
"No, sir." I replied honestly, as I ran my fingers along the doors of the antiquated contraption, the only remaining evidence of the recently renovated luxury building's ancient past.
"Normally these old things aren't used for passengers, but the building's pretentious designers thought it might add a certain charm to its otherwise sterile decor. Which is where you come in." He continued, as I heard him slide open the freight elevator's outside doors...
SLAM!
...Followed by its scissored metal inside doors.
SCREEEECH!
I heard Mr. Winfred step inside and, using my cane, scanned the interior of the rather large elevator, which must have been eight feet by eight feet, and followed him in.
Instantly, my nose was hit with an overpowering, musty scent, like the kind you'd smell in a basement, combined with your grandmother's attic.
He then closed both doors behind us.
SLAM!
SCREEEECH!
"Now this here." Mr Winfred added, taking my hand and placing it on the handle of a lever, "Is how you move the elevator from floor to floor. Up for up. Down for down. You'll hear a click when you reach each floor, which will be helpful for someone like yourself." He said, clearly calling attention to the fact that I'm blind.
Someone like myself? I scoffed internally. You ignorant, entitled piece of shit.
Truth is, I've always had a bit of a short fuse. Which I guess, looking back on it, is what got me into prison in the first place.
But in my ten years of incarceration, I was given tools to combat my anger issues. Tools like reminding myself that it was nothing new. Assholes like him were always dropping unintentional microaggressions. It had been something I'd grown used to, and given my probation, wasn't a battle worth fighting.
"Yes sir." I replied through my teeth, as I begrudgingly swallowed my pride.
"Now, why don't you spend today practicing. Our first residents don't move in until tomorrow."
—
In just a matter of a week or so, as the doors of "The Cornelius" opened to its new tenants, I learned pretty much everything I needed to know about the job.
Said tenants were rich. Very rich. And most of them acted as such. Entitled. Obnoxious. Holier than thou. Especially given my own social class. But a few of them weren't so bad, and tipped well.
Mr. Winfred's assistant, Jane, was a lovely human being. Patient, kind, thoughtful, understanding. Especially when compared to both the building's uptight residents, and Mr. Winfred himself. It had been years since I had dated, and the very thought of meeting a partner stressed me out to no end, but if I was to find someone, I hoped she'd be like Jane.
The elevator didn't open on the basement level. As I'd learned countless times, it was possible to go there, but the doors simply wouldn't open.
The old freight itself was finicky as fuck. Stop the lever one second too early, or one second too late, and when the doors open, you're halfway between a floor. But eventually, I got used to it, to the point where most of the building's tenants assumed the role of freight operator had always been my job. And when you're good at your service job, and do it with a smile on your face, the tips start flowing.
And so, all was well for the first couple weeks on the job...
...A seemingly refreshing return to normalcy, after ten long years...
...Until...
...The disappearances started happening.
—
I was just arriving to work one day, when I heard about the first disappearance.
"Have you seen - I mean, have you been in contact with Elizabeth Davis? From room 401?" Mr. Winfred asked, after correcting himself. Something he did often, which continued to annoy me.
"Um." I replied, unsure of where he was going with the question. "Not since yesterday. She got back from work, and I brought her up to the fourth floor. But come to think of it, I don't think she rode the elevator down this morning. Like she usually does."
"Interesting." My boss replied, before continuing. "She disappeared yesterday."
"Disappeared?" I asked.
"Yeah, husband said she never came home last night."
"Hmm. Well I know for certain that I brought her to the fourth floor. Did you check the hallway surveillance footage?"
"Not yet. Unfortunately the building inspector's in today, and I won't have time until tomorrow. Let's hope she just went somewhere, or got lost. In the meantime, keep an eye out - I mean - just, let me know if you hear of anything suspicious."
"Yes sir," I replied, once again resisting the urge to snap on him, before heading for the elevator, where I started the day's shift.
SLAM!
SCREEEECH!
That day, I did my best to do as Mr. Winfred had asked, and listened carefully for any signs of mischief.
But the day went on, business as usual and by the end of the day, I hadn't noticed anything out of the ordinary...
...Except... The only thing of note was a difference in Mr. Lawrence's demeanor. The tenant of room 805, he was a salesman, and acted like one. When I say the man could talk, the man could talk. To a point where whenever he was a passenger in the old freight elevator, despite the long ride from floor one to floor eight, I'd rarely have a chance to get a word in.
But this time... was different. This time, Mr. Lawrence entered the elevator chatting away, just as he always did. But about halfway up, he just... stopped talking. And the thing about my job is, if someone chooses to talk or not talk, it's their decision, and none of my business. So I left him alone, and when we reached the eighth floor, I simply said goodnight. To which, he didn't reply.
Must be going through something. I thought to myself, having been unable to truly get a sense of his composure, without being able to see him, before closing the double doors and heading off to help the next passenger.
SLAM!
SCREEEECH!
—
Later that night, Mr. Winfred called me into his office, and asked me to take a seat beside his assistant, Jane.
"Mr. Owens. Are you aware of the situation that's going on in the building?" He asked, in an interrogating tone.
"Um... yes, you told me about it yesterday. The disappearance, sir." I replied.
"Disappearances now. Plural." He said sternly.
"But... who else?" I asked.
"Mr. Lawrence."
"What happened to him?"
"Well, to be honest, I was hoping you could tell me. Cause much like Ms.Davis, the last place he was seen was going into your elevator."
"What about the cameras in the hallways?"
"I'm afraid that after reviewing the tapes, after stepping into your elevator, neither Ms. Davis, or Mr Lawrence, ever stepped out."
"But that's... not... possible."
"Mr. Owens. I'm going to give you an opportunity. Is there anything you want to tell me? I know you have a sordid past."
"Mr. Winfred!" Jane interjected, clearly offended by his words, and implications.
"Quiet, Jane." He scolded, before continuing. "Answer the question, Mr. Owens."
I didn't know what to say. I was so shocked, so flustered, by what he was implying, that I simply froze.
"Mr. Owens!" He screamed.
"I... I... don't know!" I cried out, as I heard Jane squirm in her seat. "I'm telling you, the last time I heard from either of them, I took them up to their floors. But I'm-"
"You're what! Blind?"
"Well, yes sir. I don't see what goes on inside the elevator. I just let them on and off."
"Mr. Owens. If they got on your elevator, and never got off, where could they possibly have gone?"
"I... don't... know." I replied, at this point, wanting to grab him by force, demand that he never speak to me that way again, and scream out my innocence. But my next parole appointment was the following week, so once again, all I could do was just bite my tongue.
Mr. Winfred paused for a moment, took a deep breath, and regained his composure.
"Mr. Owens, I could go to the police now. And that would be very bad for someone like you."
Fuck. He's right. I thought to myself, realizing, that if he went to the police, and I was even remotely suspected of what was going on in the building, it was back to prison for me.
"But lucky for you," He continued, "There are things going on in the building that I wouldn't want to bring unwanted attention to. And for that reason, I have decided not to go to the police... yet. But consider this a warning. And know, that I have a repairman coming first thing tomorrow morning to install a security camera inside the freight elevator, so I can see what exactly it is that you're doing in there."
I had know idea how to react to Mr. Winfred's continued accusations. So I simply remained silent.
"Now get out of here and go home! We'll reconvene on this tomorrow." He said dismissively, before Jane walked me out of the room, down the hall, and outside the building, where I planned to return home for the night.
—
Fifteen minutes later, we were at a bar down the street, where Jane apparently frequented.
"But where could they possibly have gone?" I asked her, my hands trembling at both the thought of people disappearing in the elevator, and that it was happening under my watch.
"Thing is," Jane said, as she finished her beer. "There's something you should know about the building."
""The Cornelius"?"
"No, from before it was called that. It used to be a factory of some kind."
"Is that what Mr. Winfred was talking about when he said that there were things going on in the building? That he didn't want to bring unwanted attention to?"
"Well, yes and no. Yes, in a sense, that Mr. Winfred cut some corners, and rather than fully renovate the entire warehouse, he simply walled off entire sections of the old structure. Like the basement."
"And no?"
"No, in a sense, that even Mr. Winfred doesn't know what's really going on in the elevator. Sure, it'd be easy to pin it on you, especially with your criminal record - no offense... but even he knows that it's probably something... else."
"Something else?"
"See, that's where things get hazy. Because no one knows what exactly went on at the factory, before it became "The Cornelius." But rumors have it... it was laboratory of some kind, and some fucked up shit went on inside there."
"Like what?"
"That, my friend. I don't know. But what I do know is... I better be getting to bed."
"Fair enough. Well, thanks for the drink, and the support." I said with a smile, as we made our way out of the bar.
"Yeah, don't let Mr. Winfred get to you. And try not to worry too much."
—
Contrary to Jane's suggestion, that night I worried... a lot. About the disappearances, what might be causing them, whatever may have gone on in the factory, and most importantly, about everything getting pinned on me.
I couldn't fall asleep, tossing and turning in bed as my mind raced. And each time I finally passed out, I'd wake up in a panic attack, my heart pounding, short of breath and in a cold sweat.
But it didn't stop there. The uncomfortable feeling of terror and fear, accompanied by the vibrating sensation of adrenaline pumping through my body, remained well into the next morning, when I stepped back into the elevator, terrified by what might be going on inside there.
Please don't leave me alone in this fucking thing. I thought to myself.
And within a matter of minutes, my prayers were answered.
"How goes it?" The surveillance installation worker called out, his cheery disposition contrary to mine.
"Um... not too bad." I replied, lying through my teeth, as he stepped inside.
But after a minute or two of sharing the elevator with him, my fears lessened and my body relaxed, comforted by the positive conversation, and the metallic, clinking sounds of the installation.
Everything's okay. The doors are open. And he's talking. I thought to myself.
But eventually, the man finished installing the camera, and began wrapping up the job.
"Well, that's it! Camera's all installed and running now." He called out. "Let's just take the elevator for a spin and make sure we don't lose the signal."
"Yes, of course." I replied, before reaching for the double doors...
SLAM!
SCREEEECH!
..And moving the lever up.
We started moving.
"Fascinating job, I must say, elevator operator. But I suppose you could say the same for mine."
"Pays the bills." I replied, feigning a chuckle.
If he's here, and he's talking, then I'm safe. I continued to reassure myself.
But a few minutes into our ascent, just like Mr. Lawrence... the man... suddenly stopped talking.
"Alright, looks like it's working fine. We can head back down and-"
SILENCE.
"Hello?" I asked.
But he didn't respond.
Fuck. I thought to myself, realizing that whatever caused Ms. Davis, and Mr. Lawrence, and seemingly now the repairman to disappear, could still be in the elevator with me.
Standing there, shaking, sweat rolling down my brow, I backed myself into the corner of the elevator, as I reached for the lever, pressed it down, and the elevator began to make its descent back to the ground floor.
When I finally reached the lobby...
DING!
I scrambled to open the doors...
SLAM!
SCREEEECH!
...And darted out, gasping for air, expecting to find a safe haven.
But instead, all I heard was the sound of Mr. Winfred's voice. "Where is the repairman?"
—
A few minutes later, I was once again sitting in Mr. Winfred's office, next to Jane, this time attempting to explain what had happened.
"...And then he stopped talking! Just like Mr. Lawrence."
"You know what, Mr. Owens. I'm tired of your excuses. And now that we have a working camera in the elevator, it's time to find out what's really going on inside there." He threatened, as I heard him clicking away on his computer, clearly reviewing the footage.
"Please do!" I cried out, "I'm telling you, it's not me."
That's when... Mr. Winfred, and Jane, both went silent.
"Hello?" I called out, unable to see what was really going on. Given the fact that my passengers had recently been going silent, the thought crossed my mind that they too had disappeared, but I could still hear their breathing in the room. Breathing, that sounded like it was increasing rapidly...
...Until they broke the silence.
"Oh... my..." Jane said, struggling to catch her breath.
"That can't be. Let me rewind the tape." Mr. Winfred mumbled, the most scared I had ever heard him.
"What is it?" I asked, as they seemingly played back the video.
I would later find out from Jane that the footage would show myself and the repairman in the elevator, as a slithering, grotesque, humanoid figure, suddenly climbed down from the roof of the elevator, wrapped it's slimy arms around the repairman, then somehow hopped back out of the elevator, and pulled the man up with it. Leaving me standing there, completely unaware of what had just happened.
But in that moment, Mr. Winfred must have realized the... complications associated with reporting such a bizarre phenomenon, and instead decided to finally pin it on me.
"Mr. Owens, you shouldn't have done that!" He cried out.
"Mr. Winfred, what are you talking about?" Jane asked, "You and I just watched the same footage."
That's when I heard him drag a file to his computer's trash and delete it.
CRUNCH.
"Stay out of this, Jane. This man has killed three people in the elevator. I knew I shouldn't have hired an ex con!"
"But sir, I didn't-" I tried to reply, before he interrupted.
"Mr. Owens, I'm picking up the phone, and calling the police. I'd suggest you just stay put."
"But Mr. Winfred, I'm telling you, I didn't do anything!"
"Yes, is this 911? I'm the manager of "The Cornelius" and I'd like to report three murders in my building."
"We'd better go." I heard Jane say, as I felt her place her hand on my shoulder.
"And yes, I have reason to believe the killer is our elevator operator, an ex convict, who is sitting right in front of me."
"Come on, let's go!" Jane screamed, as she tugged at my shirt, I hopped up from my seat, and she led me out of the office, down the hall, and into... of all places... the old freight elevator, as she explained to me what she had seen on the surveillance tape.
—
SLAM!
SCREEEECH!
"Take us to the basement!" Jane called out.
"But the basement is walled off." I replied.
"Just do it!" She insisted, before I moved the lever down and the elevator began to move.
I spent the ride catching my breath, until we finally reached the basement level.
DING!
"Now what?" I asked.
But Jane didn't reply.
"Jane?"
Oh fuck. I thought to myself. The monster.
That's when I turned to the center of the freight elevator, where Jane had been standing, reached out into the unknown...
...And sure enough, felt the cold, slimy, skin of the creature, wrapped around Jane's face, preventing her from making a sound.
Not knowing what else to do, I gripped its disgusting appendages with both hands, and slowly pried it off Jane, as she let out a...
...SCREAM..
...And the monster's arm quickly slithered away, back up through the roof of the freight.
Jane dropped to the ground, coughing violently.
"You okay?" I asked her.
But rather than responding, she simply handed me something...
....I opened my fist, to find a pair of keys.
"The lock above the lever. Unlock it." She instructed, still coughing, as I felt around the lever, found the lock, inserted the key, and unlocked it.
CLICK.
"The doors. They should open now." Jane said, as she stood up, having finally caught her breath.
SCREEEECH!
SLAM!
—
We arrived in the dark basement to smell the same, musty odor from the freight elevator.
After her eyes adjusted and she scanned our surroundings, Jane informed me that this floor looked nothing like the other eight, newly renovated floors, with their modern feel and minimalistic designs.
Instead, the basement was a window into the building's former self, when it had been a factory. Its walls brick and crumbling, its floors concrete and cracked.
And scattered everywhere, were the dusty remnants of laboratory equipment. Devices, machines, tanks, most of which were destroyed, or disconnected, or both.
"What went on down here?" I asked.
"From the looks of it, something inhumane," Jane said, after she picked up a few tattered pieces of paper from one of the lab stations, and told me what was on it.
"The first page looks like some sort of a diagram, of a man being pumped with chemicals from tanks. And the second, a drawing... of the creature from the elevator. In pencil beside it, someone appears to have labeled it "The Silencer.""
Silencer. I thought to myself, before remembering that the creature seemed to always silence the sounds of its victims, and to have been repulsed by Jane's scream. At the same time, it had never bothered me in the elevator, as I tended to stand there in silence.
But before I could dwell too much on the thought, Jane interrupted.
"If you don't mind my asking. What did you go to prison for in the first place?" She asked.
"It's okay," I said, surprised she had waited this long to ask, before contemplating the best way to explain what had happened. "’Cause of my temper. Some guy was being a dick on the train platform. We got into a scuffle, and he accidentally fell into the tracks."
"Over what? Did he insult you? Your blindness?"
"No, I'm afraid not." I replied, "We were drunk... and arguing over... a basketball game, of all things. He was... my friend."
"Oh my God. I'm so sorry."
"It's okay."
Jane put her hand on my shoulder, and we stood there in silence for a moment...
...Until suddenly, we heard the sound of Mr. Winfred, and the police approaching, as they ran down what must have been a hidden set of stairs from the ground level to the basement.
"Come on, follow me!" Jane called out, as she took me by the hand and led me into what I'd soon discover was a labyrinthian network of old passages, while the police and Mr. Winfred both called out to us.
"This is the police! Put your hands on your head, and turn yourself in!"
"You're trapped, Mr. Owens! Just confess your crimes, and you'll simply go back to jail!"
We continued to run deeper and deeper into the passages, as our pursuers began to close in on us, their footsteps getting closer... and closer... and closer...
...Until suddenly, the sound of their footsteps was replaced by that of...
...SCREAMING...
...And they suddenly went...
...SILENT.
"What the?" Jane whispered.
"The creature." I whispered. "It must be down here."
That's when we hatched a plan.
—
Having found our way out of the labyrinth and back to the entrance of the laboratory, where we had arrived in the old freight elevator, I found myself standing alone, waiting, as I nervously tapped my cane on the basement floor, Jane having gone off on her own.
That's when I heard Mr. Winfred emerge from the passages, alone, and call out to me.
"Mr. Owens! There's nowhere to run! Even your beloved elevator is gone. You're cornered." He taunted, as I backed towards the elevator and tapped at it with my cane, its doors open, its shaft empty.
"What did you say?" I asked, encouraging him to talk louder.
"What are you, deaf now too?" The ignorant old man snapped back. "I said, you have nowhere to run!"
"I'm sorry, you'll have to forgive me," I said sarcastically, pointing to my ears. "Can you repeat that again?"
That's when Mr. Winfred began approaching and screamed, "You worthless, ex con! I knew I shouldn't have hired you in the first place! And now, you'll go back to where you belong!"
But suddenly...
...Mr. Winfred went SILENT...
...As the creature must have wrapped its slimy tentacles around his face.
That's when I seized the opportunity, ran over to Mr. Winfred, gripped the cold body of the creature, which was indeed wrapped around him, turned, and flung them both behind me, into the hollow elevator shaft...
SLAM!
...Before hitting the "Up" button on the wall, and calling the freight elevator down.
Suddenly, the gears of the elevator above could be heard turning away, and the machine began its quick descent down.
"Mr. Owens, no!" Mr. Winfred cried out, clearly now separated from the creature.
I froze for a moment, as my mind raced back to the night of the tragic accident, when my friend called out to me from the train tracks, and I was unable to save him in time...
....Until I eventually snapped myself out of it, and willed myself to save Mr. Winfred, no matter how evil the asshole's intentions may have been, reaching out my hand out, and pulling him up and out of the elevator, just as the freight car came crash down to the basement level.
SLAM!
CRUNCH!
"RAAAAAAAARRRRR!" The slimy beast cried out, as it was crushed under the old elevator's weight.
DING!
The basement fell SILENT for a moment, until...
SCREEEECH!
SLAM!
...Jane stepped out and said, "Going up?"
But the joke was met was silence. I simply stood there, shaking, as Mr. Winfred did the same, clearly shocked by the events that had just occurred.
—
A few weeks later, after the authorities had done a full sweep of the basement, and cleared out all traces of the building' old laboratory, I found myself once again back in the manager's office.
"Mr. Owens. This is the last time I'm gonna tell you this!" Jane joked, as I heard her recline back in what was once Mr. Winfred's chair, having been named interim manager since her boss's recent and... ironic... prison sentencing.
"Who's the convict now?" I said with a smile, before making my way out of the office.
"Wait." Jane said, stopping me at the door. "You sure you want to go back to operating the elevator? After all that's happened? Like I said, the doorman job is yours if you want it."
"What's the worst that could happen?" I replied with a smile. "There's another one of those creatures in the building somewhere?"

I have been with my wife for 8 years now we recently had our 7 year wedding anniversary. In the beginning of our marriage and relationship things were amazing. My wife has been married twice before me and has kids with both previous husbands. I have also been married twice before her me mostly being young and dumb and trying to rush life, I have never had children with either of my previous wives. After we were married we decided to have children which I expressed to her I never intended on having children with someone I didn't plan to be with forever. I did not want my children apart of a broken home. Fast forward 6 years, I confronted my wife on the suspicion that she had possibly slept with one of my best friends before her and I ever knew each other this was a friend that we regularly were around and hung with. She assured me several times that she had never slept with him or done anything to him. Well not long after that I over hear my wife drunkingly talking to one of her friends telling her friend that she did sleep with him but didn't want me to find out. I know no one here knows me so I'll start off by saying we all have a past and that's fine I just ask not to be lied to and give and recieve complete honesty. I don't think anyone wants to be hanging out on a regular basis with there spouse hanging around someone they have slept with . I didn't call her out in it immediately but it ate away at me for weeks why would you lie about that I asked myself? Looking me straight in my eyes and lied over and over. A month or so goes by and my wife is drunk and I bring it up to her, once again she denies it but I told her i overheard her telling her friend so I know she's lying. Now I'm not the type of male who is very jealous and I definitely don't play the going through your phone game because I'm committed and I give my wife my trust. Well I when I confronted her on this issue I called her out on some other shady behavior, she was going through one of her photo apps and there was a video of her ex boyfriend masturbating. Clearly by this point I am infuriated. She swears she didn't know it was on there and she thought it was deleted. We are in a public parking lot inside the car when all this goes down she freaks out and jumps out of the car, I beg and plead for her to get back in the car as this is my children's mother and I would never do anything to publicly embarrass her. Well she ends up drawing a lot of attention to herself and gets arrested since she is drunk and not calming down and refuses to get back in the car with me so I can take her home. Fast forward about 3 months. My wife and I had been out to eat and on our way home got into a arguement. Once we arrived home she asked me "doing you like living here"? Which I thought was odd but I replied yes why wouldn't I? We finally have a nice house sitting on a farm with beautiful views it's everything Iv always wanted, she replied with "ok". She said she was going to go for a walk to clear her head and I said ok I was going to use the bathroom. I got out of the bathroom and I couldn't quit thinking why would she ask such a question she knows I love living here. I went to her car because there's a pistol in to glove box and I'm trying to cross the worst scenarios out of my head. The glove box was locked as it usually is and she took her car key with her. I ran inside and got the spare and went back to the car and unlocked the glove box and the pistol is missing. I immediately track her location and see she is in a near field. I jump in my truck and go to where she is at I find her sitting by A brush pile listening sad music with the gun in her lap. I am able to get the gun from her then she takes off running through the field towards our house. At this point it is like my wife has had a complete mental break down and idk what to do I start calling her mom and dad they don't answer I call her daughter who is in the military and In a different state freaking out telling her everything that's happening. My wife makes it home gets in her car and leaves and doesn't come back for hours I can't track her because she left her phone in the field where I found her. By this point I have gotten ahold of her mom and dad no one knows what to do. So we all come together once my wife arrives back home and tell her what ever is going on we want her to get help with it's therapy or medicine we don't care we are here for here and support whatever we have to do. Time goes by and things are starting to get normal again after my wife refuses to take medicine or do anything for help. We did start marriage counseling we had scheduled 4 meetings to start with the first meeting we did as a couple the second meeting I did by myself and the third meeting was supposed to be my wife alone and on the 4th meeting it would be us as a couple again. Well when it came time for my wife to do her meeting she kept rescheduling over and over and I finally called her out on why she wasn't taking this serious. She said she was but she just had this or that going on etc all I heard was excuses. Now since you don't know my wife she is a very successful female that makes great money and is in amazing shape and literally had the perfect body even after kids, you would never even known she's had a kid and built very desirable. I am 6' 2" and I go to the gym 5-6 times a week I have never cheated in any way form or fashion on my wife or done anything morally or ethically wrong towards our marriage I have always loved my wife and thought she was perfect. After these events started happening I started to question a lot of things and I found out my wife is as truthful as I thought she was. I don't believe my wife has ever cheated on me but she does seem to tell a lot of small lies or just flat out lies in general. My wife has in the last few years became psychotically jealous I'm not even allowed to eat with female coworkers and if I do I have to notify her and tell her where they are sitting in relation to where I'm sitting and what if anything they say to me. I have to tell her every time a female calls or text me etc. I do not have any social media but my wife has almost all of them and I don't care but I would like to point out she has male friends on her social media both married and single but I'm not allowed to be friendly or joke or anything even with the people I work with and my wife knows all of them but at the same time my wife also works in a coed environment and I don't limit her on anything she does nor do I ask or care because I love her and trust her. She has recently gotten mad that she shares her location with me but I don't share mine with her, I never asked her to share hers with me she just randomly did one day but since I don't do anything wrong and have nothing to hide I started sharing mine as well. Well that became a problem while we're both at work I would be question about why have I been at a particular location for 10 min or why have I been here or there etc and that got really old really quick. A few months go by and my wife starts a physical altercation with me I have never in my life hit a woman nor did I that night but I did keep pushing her off of me as I tried gathering my stuff for work so I could leave and go somewhere else. Long story short the police showed up I didn't have a shirt on and was covered in scratch and bite marks. Luckily I was able to leave and no one would go to jail, both our careers would've been ruined if either of us would've went to jail. After leaving that night I go to a hotel from that night forward I don't come home for 2 weeks I stay at hotels or family's house still in shock of how all this has came about. How close we were to losing everything we have including our careers over her behavior. I tell my wife I want time away from her to think things through. She tells me after two weeks of not sleeping under the same roof as her I need to come home because our children are asking a lot of questions I was skeptical but I returned and only for my kids I love my kids more than anything and during this 2 week period of being gone from them I would show up as my wife left for work and take them to school and pick them up and still see them and do stuff with them. I started staying back at home for my kids my wife and I still haven't slept in the same bed I am devistated on what to do about my marriage I can't handle a controlling and psychotically jealous wife anymore. This is not all that's going on in my marriage just some of the big things. I feel like I do most of the house work and I do all of the outside work. I clean, do dishes, do laundry etc I hate not having a clean and organized house. Lately things have been getting out of control with spending financially. All of this combined is driving me crazy. I told my wife 3 times I wanted a divorce but she begs me and tells me how everything can and will be better. She did start medicine for whatever is going on with her mentally but honestly not much has changed not like she promised. She still leaves the house and goes drinking with her friends and doesn't come home until late into the night etc. I don't know what to do I am beyond devastated to think about what a divorce would do to my kids 5 & 6. I can't stand the thought of them possibly having another father figure in their future. I have days where I feel strong enough to divorce and I know everything will be ok and be fine and then I have days where I question if I would be able to make it through something like that or not. I feel really confused on what to do my wife's behavior hasn't changed much and the only reason there's been any change at all is because I told her I wanted a divorce and I feel like she's trying to look really good right now and show me this "change". I worry what if I'm never happy again what if I never have this life of fun and happiness like I had before all these issues started happen for the last year and a half. I'm really stuck on what to do

Prev Royal Road Patreon
Karghol stepped forward. As Rob he might be scared, but he'd been the leader of the group for a long time, operating as our main tank across a ton of games, and now, I could see him taking that step again, "Okay, first thing's first. If they're gonna pop us out of this from the outside, then that's not on us, but we've all seen this anime. If they're not coming, then we need to get to the endgame as fast as possible."
"Nope," I shook my head, surprising even myself at how quickly I'd said something.
He turned, "What? I mean, we gotta get out ahead of this."
"In most games, I'd agree, but not here, not in this game. Also, side-point but decision time for everyone: Real names or character names? I can't keep flipping between them. Lugh is what's on my party registry, so I'm sticking with Lugh," It seemed small but wasn't.
I'd learned well enough that giving people all of the information was most often counter-productive at best. Giving people a small, immediate choice was far preferable and got them on the path to understanding better. Temur snorted slightly at the absurdity, "Well, I suppose you can call me either Temur, or Temur. Whichever floats your boat."
Several groans came out, and finally, some laughter. I mean, it was dad joke humor to be sure, but jokes were probably going to become a much more specific thing for us. From there, everyone chose their character names, either because it was simply easier given the nametags in our party rotation, or because they just didn't want everyone knowing their real ones. Khargol however, was a slight agitated, "Alright, so why not speedrun it?"
"Because speedrunners die and reset constantly."
The slight mirth died out in the room, but Khargol wasn't ready to yield the point, "I've watched you do a no-death run of Dark Souls!"
I nodded, "And do you have any idea how many times I died in that game getting to that level of skill? Look, this isn't Dark Souls. That game has set difficulty levels. Yeah, it's got solid AI, but here? The AI adapts to tactics, and I'm pretty sure the beta test players are about to learn that the hard way."
Everyone was a bit curious at the statement, but it was Shelara who spoke up, "What does that 'adaptive AI' mean?"
I sighed, and took a seat at the head of the table, with Khargol finally sitting down next to me, "It means the AI of the system is learning. Beta testers essentially get to play ahead of the general public to try and stress test the system under actual play conditions. Most usually, they'll try to learn as many exploits as possible, so even if they start out on brand new characters, they're still going to be far ahead of the pack, getting gear and coin ahead of others. Assume that the beta testers have watched things like SAO or other 'trapped in a video game' style series, and they're doing the same as Khargol is suggesting. Problem is, that's exactly what a bunch of them already did, and if the AI works like it's supposed to, then it's ready for them.
"For Valorian Saga, one of the biggest selling points was its adaptive AI system, a system that learns. What that means is that the system behind bosses has already learned those exploits from beta testers and has some sort of answer for them, and they're going to run dead into them."
Chrysta sat forward, leaning her elbows on the table, at least in part to show off her biceps, "Well if a speedrun is out of the question, then what do we do instead?"
Shelara cut back in, "But... shouldn't we try and go save the beta testers?"
I considered, "Shelara, in answer to your question, we can't. Even assuming we could catch up to wherever they're at, there's almost no chance they'd listen to us if we did. They're just as likely to assume we're rivals, or to think we're idiots, but regardless they won't be following our instructions just because we say so. As far as they're concerned, they already know this game, and we're a bunch of sprouts who are panicking. Even if we could get past that point, we don't know the game like they do, and we're more likely to end up needing saving before we ever get to them.
"As to the other question, Chrysta, what we do now is finish up the starter quests, then we use our flyers to join the militia."
Every MMO veteran groaned openly. Arkadi especially was annoyed at the concept, "Come on, man, faction-grinding on day two? We're not even out of the gate yet!"
I'd expected this, and checked my in-game clock, and swore under my breath. We needed to get moving, with only roughly eighteen minutes of daylight left, "Guys, that's why we need to join the militia. It's safe, and grinding up our faction rep with Valoria opens a lot of doors, not least of which is giving us barracks space to live in free of charge, basic equipment upgrades, and getting coin. That's just the short-term gains. Yeah, not much, but it gives us a foundation. We get the lay of the land, and we build up our strategies. There's another reason though, and it's important."
Khargol nodded, "As militia, we get arrest powers in line with the laws of Farrelston."
"Wait, we'd be cops?" Shelera seemed slightly hyped about the concept.
I nodded, "More or less. We aren't out in the main room right now cause everyone's losing their minds out there. They're all coming to terms with the idea that this place is where they might die, and that breeds desperate reactions. Fourteen million players split between fifty servers, giving an average server population of... two-hundred-eighty thousand per server give or take for server popularity. Assume maybe one percent of that go fully around the bend and get violent, and that gives us two thousand eight hundred violent criminals that just hit the city on this server that have the ability to level up within the system.
"Farrelston has to be a safe space for players to return to, but that can't happen if there isn't order, and that means law enforcement."
One of our newcomers made her presence felt, the elf woman from the cathedral, shaking as she spoke, "I'm Layala. What about my brother?"
Tom... "I don't know. I don't what happens to those who die in the game. Maybe they wake up, maybe they're just comatose in a hospital somewhere, or maybe they're gone."
I let it sink in for everyone. Layala's eyes fell to the table as she slowly wept. I hate this, but sugarcoating the thing wasn't good for anyone, "All I can work on right now is keeping us all alive. This is a fantasy RPG, so for all I know, there might be another way to get them back, but I don't want to get anyone's hopes up. Anyone who knows someone who didn't respawn, we'll keep a journal of names, to see that they're remembered. We chronicle the dead, and if the opportunity to get them back presents itself, we go all-in on it.
"I know we all have questions... but we can't stay here to answer them all, and I don't have all the answers for you. We need to start moving, and moving now. We've got thirteen people here, our five and the eight we added on. We've got enough people to form a guild when the time comes, so we should start acting like a guild now."
Layala's voice cracked, "I-I nominate Lugh."
I was startled. I've been very game-knowledgeable, but I wasn't the leader type. It was never my role in the group.
"I second the nomination."
Khargol. My head whipped around, "Look, guys, I'm not a leader. I know stuff, that's what I've got. Khargol's the one who leads."
Khargol shook his head, "Not here, not in this game. I'm all good for the tanking, but you're the only one of us who's putting out a plan of attack, and I'm getting more lost by the minute. It sucks dude, and it hurts to admit it to myself, but you're the guy this time."
Nods occurred, and by show of hands, I was almost unanimously elected to command the 'guild', minus my own dissenting vote. Well.... crapbaskets, "Alright, fine. I won't argue it, but we've gotta get a move on. Get the starter quests going, and when we unlock the job change system, we'll work things out from there. Until then, we'll break into three parties, two four-man parties, and one five-man. Khargol, you're in charge of the five-man, Temur and myself are the other party leaders for now. We'll meet at the barracks come sundown. We spread out the neos amongst the three parties so they're all protected, and we get started. Don't do any combat quests alone."
I picked up Shelera for my party's neo, along with Chrysta and Layala, and the parties agreed to meet up in front of the barracks around sunset so we could join up together. We fought the press of bodies in the tavern to get out into the streets, and headed off for our quests. I could feel my heart racing a bit, the whole thing feeling like some sort of bad dream, but we would need a minute to get things together, "Okay, let's check everyone's quest logs. Any shareable quests, share them with the group so we can all help out and get rewards. We tackle them from lowest to highest."
We moved through the streets to the first quest, running messages around the city for the heralds. The quest was designed to get new players oriented with the larger city of Farrelston and what factions existed within it. The vast majority of players though, were barely moving, either pressed into the tavern or milling about in front of the cathedral. This was a huge problem, and we were finding clusters of people around, hiding and trying to just deal with the enormity of it all. We were running messages to guards, merchants, and nobles on what was a very low-key questline while watching people crying or raging. Shelera moved up next to me, close to tears herself, "We can't do anything?"
a I halted, and looked around again, and noticed some people who weren't in groups. Solo players who had come in by themselves, the same as you'd see in any MMO, and now they were cut off from the world, friends, family, and no party. Solo players really only existed in MMOs, people who would just fill in the gaps, and otherwise keep to themselves, and it worked in the world of video games. In the real world, though, it wasn't good, "We can do a little."
I jogged over to where a powerfully built Dracon with a sword and shield was balled up on the ground, weeping, purple-scaled head buried in his arms. I knelt down next to him, laying a hand on his shoulder, "Hey, what's your character name?"
The Dracon boy looked up imploringly, his voice quavering, "Umbaar..."
"Hi, Umbaar. I'm Lugh, and these are my friends. Why don't you come with us? You can join our party," I kept my tone even by pleasant.
He nodded sheepishly and accepted the party invite, "My mom's gonna kill me. I wasn't even supposed to be playing the game."
Oh God, no, "How old are you, Umbaar?"
"I'll be fourteen in December."
Due to the nature of the game, the minimum age for Valorian Saga was eighteen. He'd likely gotten access to the rig, and just jumped on, and now he was trapped, "I'm sure right now, your mom's just worried about you, but we'll keep you safe. Come on, we've got quests to do."
The absurdity of our questing was fully growing with each step we took. After running messages, we helped the watch with investigating some local crimes to learn the search system, worked with merchants on trading to get the economy down, and along the way, we found some more solos to fill us out to the party cap of eight. The jobs were immaterial to me, but Shelera and Layala both found comfort in picking up more people, with the latter taking over care of Umbaar. NPCs went about their day's work, and I started to catch on to something, "Hey... is this day... running long to anyone else?"
Games don't use full twenty-four-hour days, using a shorter day and night cycle to give the impression of a world without having to artificially inflate the game to make it feel like a full day. Valorian Saga had, in the videos, been shown to have a twenty-minute day, and twenty-minute night, but as we ran around, it had been far more than twenty minutes now. The sun had barely moved in the sky, which given the rest of the game's level of detail wasn't something they would've ignored. Chrysta spoke up after counting her clock, "Uh... well dearheart, I do believe we've got us a twenty-four cycle now."
There were several possibilities to this, perhaps either our minds changed gear to work with in-game time, or the game had altered to have twenty-four-hour time. Either way, we had no answers for it. I was getting a bit sick of having more and more questions I couldn't answer, but I couldn't focus on it in the here and now. I called a halt, and we found a small corner tavern to get food and drink. I took some time with the menu system, and up popped the character status window.
By statistics, we were moving up a bit, but the main stats of our jobs weren't changing very much at all. My basic stats for movement had risen, but not by much, and the gain was tapering off. That was probably from all the walking around the city we were doing. Reputations were going up in the city guilds attached to our quests, but again, they were minor improvements, and the effective XP was tapering off from doing them. I took out my character journal, a system conceit by the devs that the game world was simply too grand in scale to not allow a lot of notetaking, and did stat-math just like when I would spreadsheet my builds at home. From what I could see, the game had no true 'leveling' system. Instead, skills and attributes were built up by how you played, sort of like in Skyrim, but the same actions would not keep getting you the same degree of XP. A common enough point, or else someone could pull a South Park and just merc wolves until they hit the cap. Abilities would unlock as your stats rose, some coming online automatically like Sprint, while others you had to find a trainer for, such as the Double Knock ability for archers. From what I'd seen online, the abilities would unlock advanced jobs, and certain combinations would unlock hybrid jobs, so a Paladin would be a combination of a knight and acolyte. None of the testers had gotten that far, however, they'd just seen the possibility of it.
I noticed Shelera leaning over to look at my journal, and I smiled, "Just doing nerd stuff, plotting my progression to figure out what jobs I need."
She smiled back, "That seems weirdly normal. What are you thinking of doing?"
"Well, for now, I need to move up my abilities as a Hunter, right? Hunter eventually leads to a few choices, so I'm thinking I'll probably go for a Ranger build. That means I can train up Yndress here as a battle companion."
Yndress had been flying about with me, and sometimes resting on my shoulder, and now, she was curled up by my arm on the table as I continued. Shelera reached over and petted Yndress, "That is so cool. She's so warm. I totally should've figured out a way to get the limited edition... so what should I be leveling up?"
"Well, you're a vagabond, so you might look at something like Bounty Hunter since we're working with the militia. Combine that with another job.... huh."
"What?"
Daeva grinned, "Oh, sweetie, he just worked somethin' out. What do you need, Lugh?"
"Give me a minute. I need to go to the scrivener," I shot up and stepped out of the tavern.
It wasn't far to the scrivener where I could buy the supplies I needed. We'd just done an ink delivery there, and now, I would need paper and ink to work with. Returning, I cleared off the tavern table and laid out a large scroll used for maps, currently unmarked, "Okay, I need everyone to bring up your character pages and stand where I can read them."
Gamers generally do have a sense of when someone's worked out an exploit, and this was one of those times. They brought up their screens so I could start marking down abilities, attributes, and skills. Of note, my Scibing ability was ticking slowly upward as I laid things out. Scribing could turn into runic writing and other more arcane and mundane pursuits. What I was working on became a skill tree system, with the various jobs being grouped together. I had to move things around, and in real life I wouldn't be able to do that with ink, but in the game sense, it was pretty simple. I kept moving around my drawing, finally starting to come into a workable initial system of abilities, jobs, and other things that built off of one another. It look a bit mad, like if no one had stopped the devs on Path of Exile's skill tree, but it was there, "We're thinking about this wrong. We need to get to the barracks. I don't want to explain this twice."
Banded back up, I stopped by our newest unlock: Carriage Stations. The city was entirely too big to be running around it all the time, and for just half a silver, we could go to any other ward in the city. I signaled the coachman, handing him my flyer, "Take us to the militia barracks."
The coachman nodded sharply, "Right you are, sir."
The coaches held four, so we split between the two, and I rechecked my numbers. I was pretty certain I was right by the math, but these things didn't always pan out like you wanted, so it was best to recheck. It still seemed to be working out like I thought, but I needed Temur for a blind study of it. We got out at the barracks, a building made up of fortified walls and barred windows with internal shutters. Militiamen NPCs were standing guard out front, while we could just see some working in the training yard to the side. From what I could see, however, we were the only players here.
Temur's party arrived first, and apparently, I wasn't the only one picking up strays as two carriages emptied of people. He was running a full party as well now, and grinning in his uniquely Temur way, even if he did have draconic features now, "So, I see we're all taking in the lost little lambs?"
"I mean, sure, why not? That's how we met, so why not do it here, too?"
He nodded, "Questing went well, if a bit hum-drum, but you have a look in your eyes that says you've worked something out. You got math time!"
I nodded, "Waiting for... yeah, Khargol went off-road, I see."
Temur and I had shown up with two carriages each, only for Khargol to pull up with four, all packed. That put our new numbers at thirty-two players as he practically bounced up to us, "What?!"
We both shook our heads, "Nothing, man. Never change. I've got some news for everyone."
The full mass moved over to the side of the building so we weren't obstructing the entrance, "Party people, I worked something out at lunch."
I rolled out my map of the skills tree, "Okay, so I was going over my character screen, and did some math. I know what we need to do: We need to move up on every job."
Khargol shook his head, "Isn't that gonna leave us as jacks of all trades? We'd be running pretty average."
I gestured with my hands a bit in dismissal, "Usually, you're right, but here, it's different. The stats aren't really separated here, they're intended for cross-classing, and it's not just the combat jobs. I moved up a bit at Scribing here, and it looks like it'll be the same for crafting and gathering jobs. Move up in X, Y, and/or Z jobs and you unlock a hybrid. So like, say you move up as a blacksmith, armorer, and weaponsmith. All three have abilities building into one another, and that can unlock further abilities, other jobs, a whole classification of things we can't see yet.
"Using abilities works up the stats associated with that ability, and the higher the ability, the more XP it generates for the stats. Those stats still stay there when you do a job change, so you could be a Gladiator working up strength by working the forge."
Shelera looked over the drawing, "Okay, so you think if we take every job up, then that'll make us a lot stronger? But won't we end up with a bunch of usless stats?"
I shook my head, "No, for two primary reasons. For one, what if instead of Paladin, you went something like a Hexblade in D&D terms? Or, Shelera, you take Bounty Hunter, then build up your hunter job to Scout, and you have something akin to a Justicar class? Or Khargol, what if you master every weapon group?"
Temur's interest was peaked at mention of Hexblade, "And what is the second reason?"
I sucked in a breath, "It's a job change system. There's a job change skill, and every basic skill I've seen has upgrades, even if I can't see the end of the trees yet. The adaptive AI is going to adapt to our individual tactics, but even if all of us were playing hunters, we'd all approach hunting differently, maybe more reliant on archery, or snares, or pets. It would force the AI to keep readapting its own tactics on the fly. If we build up, we might just be able to get to something better than the sum of our parts."
Karghol nodded, "And that makes it doubly important we get going on the militia stuff. Shall we?"
The lot of us went over to the barracks, where a guard greeted us at the door, "Hold, citizens. What is your business with the thirteenth Valorian militia?"
I stepped forward, "We're here to enlist for service."
The guard perked right up, "Ah, good. Greetings and well met! I am Sergeant-at-Arms Brant. We are in need of stalwart folk to help protect Farrelston and wider Valoria in these trying times. Dark things are afoot both at home and afar, and it speaks well of you that you would choose service. Please, enter the hall, and register yourselves with Yeoman Granger. Welcome once again, may the purple dragon fly eternal!"
Prev Royal Road Patreon

DAY JUNE 8 2024
6-8-2024

‘WE CANNOT SIMPLY GO, GO, GO.’ WHAT IS ‘GIRL MOSSING,’ THE WELLNESS TREND THAT REJECTS HUSTLE CULTURE?

On TikTok and Instagram, people are “girl mossing”: lying on a forest floor, staring up at a leafy canopy or caressing moss. The United States National Forest Foundation even borrowed the term to kick off its 2024 Instagram account. Girl mossing recognizes a need to step away from the pressures of modern, urban life, promoting spending time in nature as a restorative practice. The fast pace and pressure of neoliberal capitalism take an enormous toll on well-being: not just personal, but social and planetary.
6-8-2024

FIVE WAYS ARTIFICIAL INTELLIGENCE CAN IMPROVE YOUR DATING LIFE

Artificial intelligence is going to transform how we date. The question is: will it be for better or worse? It’s already causing some real problems, especially related to “romance scams” and other fraud. But it’s not all doom and gloom. Used in the right way, AI can actually make dating better. It can help write profiles and find matches, provide dating advice and coaching and, if all else fails, become a date companion. I have spent the last few years studying the impact of technology, and especially AI, on our
6-8-2024

STUDY ASSESSES ‘THE DANCER PERSONALITY’

“Tell me if you dance and I will tell you who you are!” A study led by researchers at the Max Planck Institute for Empirical Aesthetics (MPIEA) in Frankfurt am Main, Germany, has shown that both amateur and professional dancers are less neurotic than people who do not dance. They are also more agreeable, more open, and more extraverted.
6-8-2024

ONLINE SHOPPERS BEHAVE DIFFERENTLY AFTER CHATTING WITH STAFF OF THE OPPOSITE GENDER, RESEARCH SHOWS

In a digital world where people are mere pixels on a screen, gender bias can show up in unexpected forms. When people are online, anonymity and physical detachment embolden them to behave in biased ways
6-8-2024

INVESTORS BET BIG ON SUNNY DAYS, STUDY FINDS

It’s often said we can’t control the weather. But what if the weather controls how and when we invest our money? More specifically, what if the skies control how much we’re willing to gamble in the stock market? New research by the University of South Australia has found a connection between pleasant weather conditions and higher investment in lottery-like stocks. Lottery-like stocks are cheap compared to other stocks and, like lottery tickets, they can be seen as an opportunity to make a substantial gain. However, the chance of a higher
6-8-2024

TEENS TREATED UNFAIRLY BY TEACHERS MORE LIKELY TO HAVE POPULIST ATTITUDES

Perceived unjust teacher behavior is strongly and positively associated with populist attitudes among children and adolescents. Populist attitudes consist of ideologies including anti-elitism, people-centrism, and a dualistic perception of good versus evil, and where the foundation of political decision-making should be based on the general will of the people. In contrast to the association with teacher behavior, the correlation between young people’s relationships with peers and the development of populist attitudes is less strong, and the correlation between young people’s relationships
6-8-2024

MICROINCLUSIONS IMPROVE WOMEN’S WORKPLACE BELONGING AND COMMITMENT

New research shows how “microinclusions”—brief instances of positive treatment, especially from members of the dominant group—help women feel valued at work. Imagine your first day at a new job. You probably feel nervous, wondering how you’ll fit in with the team. It’s natural to worry if your co-workers will be supportive, or if they’ll take your contributions seriously. This experience is amplified for women in technology companies, who often face underrepresentation and
6-8-2024

BURNT OUT? HOW YOUR EMPLOYER CAN HELP YOU RETURN TO WORK FOR THE BETTER

The working world can be a pitiless one, as competition in the marketplace can put significant pressures on employees. Relentless deadlines, shrinking resources and shifting priorities all take their toll on employees’ well-being and mental health. In my home country of Belgium, more than two thirds (66.4%) of individuals on disability for psychological reasons had cases related to depression or burn-out. These worrisome statistics reflect broader trends across OECD countries, where nearly half (47.6%) of workers with mental-health problems have been absent from the office in the past year, compared
6-8-2024

FAMILY-FRIENDLY WORKPLACES BENEFIT EMPLOYEES, BUSINESSES

Paid leave and employee well-being are the focus of a three-part policy series on family-friendly business practices put together by the Brown School’s Clark-Fox Policy Institute at Washington University in St. Louis. “Creating a family-friendly workplace benefits both employees and businesses,” said Gary Parker, associate dean for external affairs and director of the institute. “For employees, it enhances work-life balance and job satisfaction,” he said. “For businesses, it leads to higher retention rates, reduced absenteeism and improved productivity. Policies such as paid leave, flexible work arrangements
6-8-2024

HOW TRUMP’S DEFINITION OF A ‘REAL’ AMERICAN HAS GRABBED HIS AUDIENCE—WHAT OUR RESEARCH SHOWS ABOUT WHY

Donald Trump has recently doubled down on his derogatory depictions of undocumented migrants in his bid to win the 2024 presidential election. In an interview with Time magazine, published on April 30 2024, Trump referred to migrants as “criminals,” who “come in and they steal our jobs, and steal our wealth, and they steal our country.” Trump was especially disparaging towards migrants from China, who he said are a “major force that’s forming in our country.” In short, according to Trump, undocumented migration is “an invasion of our country.” Trump’s
6-8-2024

NEW STUDY SHOWS MARKETING A BRAND’S SIMPLICITY CAN BACKFIRE

Irritability is a common side effect of heat. When companies tout the simplicity of their products, they may unknowingly invite customer dissatisfaction, new University of Oregon research finds. For decades, “simpler is better” has been accepted as a universal truth in marketing. Nick Light, assistant professor of marketing at the UO’ Lundquist College of Business, has tested that assumption. He found that most consumers prefer offerings that appear to be easy to use and understand. However, trumpeting simplicity can have a hidden, costly downside. “When marketing convinces consumers that things
6-8-2024

RESEARCHERS CREATE WINNING STRATEGY TO COMBAT VACCINE MISINFORMATION ON X

A new in-depth analysis shows that users who reply to misinformation about the COVID-19 vaccine on X, formerly known as Twitter, with a positive attitude, politeness, and strong evidence are more likely to encourage others to disbelieve the incorrect information. Researchers from three Georgia Tech schools found the most
6-8-2024

STUDY SHOWS DISENGAGED STUDENTS MORE LIKELY TO USE AI TOOLS FOR ASSIGNMENTS

A Swansea University psychology study has found that disengaged students are more likely to use AI tools—particularly ChatGPT—for academic assignments, raising questions about academic integrity and the need for proactive interventions. Launched in November 2022, ChatGPT is an AI program capable of answering questions in detailed, human-like ways. Researchers surveyed 160 undergraduate students, aged between 18 and 24, in March 2023 to assess their attitudes towards and past usage of AI tools such as ChatGPT in academic coursework. The study is published in The Internet and Higher Education journal. Thirty-two
6-8-2024

HUMAN CULTURE IS CHANGING TOO FAST FOR EVOLUTION TO CATCH UP—HERE’S HOW IT MAY AFFECT YOU

Research is showing that many of our contemporary problems, such as the rising prevalence of mental health issues, are emerging from rapid technological advancement and modernisation. A theory that can help explain why we respond poorly to modern conditions, despite the choices, safety and other benefits they bring, is evolutionary mismatch. Mismatch happens when an evolved adaptation, either physical or psychological, becomes misaligned with the environment. Take moths and some species of nocturnal flies, for example. Because they have to navigate in the dark, they evolved to use the moon
6-8-2024

YOUNG PEOPLE IN THE UK SAY THEY ARE LESS LIKELY TO VOTE IF THEIR PARENTS REPORT DEPRESSIVE SYMPTOMS

With a U.K. General Election approaching, new research has found that parental history of depression can predict whether a young person is likely to intend to vote. The research, led by the Department of Politics at the University of Liverpool, found that, at age 26, people were less likely to intend to vote if they had grown up with a parent experiencing high levels of depressive symptoms. Published in the journal Electoral Studies, the research used the British Cohort Study (BCS), which followed more than 16,000 babies born across a
6-8-2024

WHO GETS TO DECIDE WHAT COUNTS AS ‘DISORDER’?

As a scholar of urban governance and data policy, I viewed the responses to protests on U.S. campuses as about more than threats to academic freedom and freedom of speech. They are also threats to the fundamental rights of people in public spaces. The protesters’ tactics, particularly their use of tents in encampments, have brought debates around definitions of public order and disorder to the fore. Over the past couple of months, students in universities across the country, from the University of California, Los Angeles to the Massachusetts Institute of
6-8-2024

STUDYING VIOLENCE TOWARD WOMEN AND ANIMALS CAN HELP US DEVELOP STRATEGIES TO PREVENT BOTH

We live in a world where not everyone feels safe and respected, especially women. Sexual violence and abuse are significant global health issues. Intimate partner violence continues to be a problem in Canada. According to Statistics Canada, of the 117,093 victims of police-reported intimate partner violence in 2022, almost 80% were women and girls. More than half of women in the United States have experienced sexual violence involving physical contact. Given these high rates of sexual abuse, it is imperative that we improve upon what we currently know about violence
6-8-2024

WHY THE FUTURE OF DEMOCRACY COULD DEPEND ON YOUR GROUP CHATS

I became newly worried about the state of democracy when, a few years ago, my mother was elected president of her neighborhood garden club. Her election wasn’t my worry—far from it. At the time, I was trying to resolve a conflict on a large email group I had created. Someone, inevitably, was being a jerk on the internet. I had the power to remove them, but did I have the right? I realized that the garden club had in its bylaws something I had never seen in nearly all the
6-8-2024

NET ZERO IS NOT JUST GOOD SCIENCE—IT’S ALSO A GOOD DEAL FOR ORDINARY PEOPLE

As the UK moves into a general election, a misinformed debate over the country’s climate transition and legally binding net zero targets risks further dividing people. Much of this debate in the UK focuses on the “cost” of net zero. For instance, energy secretary Claire Coutinho recently stated the government did not want a “net zero leviathan” to crush the nation’s “brilliant enterprise economy,” while the Labor Party had to backtrack on its own headline climate investment pledge, citing “affordability” and “fiscal rules.” But the true “cost” is tricky to
6-8-2024

THE FASCINATING PSYCHOLOGY BEHIND ‘DINE AND DASH’ AND WHY IT’S ABOUT SO MUCH MORE THAN A FREE MEAL

Sometimes when I read the newspapers, I think that going to a restaurant and leaving without paying has become something of an epidemic. My research into lying has taught me that the psychology behind acts of deception is often deeply complex. Let me start with a confession. I was guilty of dine and dash a very long time ago before it had a catchy name. I was in a group that hung about a chip shop at the turn-of-the-road in north Belfast, a poor and troubled area. I had a
6-8-2024

YOU CAN NOW BE FROZEN AFTER DEATH IN AUSTRALIA. IF YOU’RE REVIVED IN THE FUTURE, WILL YOU LEGALLY BE THE SAME PERSON?

In recent weeks, Southern Cryonics—the southern hemisphere’s only cryopreservation facility, located in rural New South Wales—announced it had successfully cryopreserved its first patient. There are only a handful of cryopreservation facilities across the globe—two in the United States, and one each in Russia, China, Australia and Switzerland. If the claims made on their websites and in the press are accurate, these facilities likely have no more than 600 patients in cryonic storage in total. Media reports however suggest interest in cryopreservation has risen since the onset of the COVID pandemic,
6-8-2024

ENGINEERS HAVE A DUTY TO PROTECT PUBLIC WELL-BEING, BUT LESS THAN HALF LEARN HOW TO DO SO EFFECTIVELY

Engineers who received public welfare responsibility training in classes are more likely to consider the societal impact of technologies they design and to take action when concerns arise, according to a study by University of Michigan researchers published in The Journal of Engineering Education. While engineers are professionally obligated to protect the safety and well-being of those their technologies impact, the study found that nearly a third of U.S. practicing engineers have never received any training in public welfare
6-8-2024

HIRING PRESSURES TO DIVERSIFY ARE INFLUENCING PATTERNS OF DISCRIMINATION IN UNEXPECTED WAYS

In 2004, a pair of economists published a landmark study to measure discrimination in the labor market. In the study, the researchers applied to real job openings with fictitious applicants but changed the applicant names to reflect a different gender or race. They found clear evidence of discrimination: White men and women received 50% more callbacks than Black men and women. More recently, Berkeley
6-8-2024

STUDY FINDS RACIAL BIAS IN TRAFFIC STOPS BY CHICAGO POLICE

Black drivers in Chicago are significantly more likely than white drivers to be stopped by police regardless of where the drivers live or are going, according to a new study led by a Cornell city planning expert that maps the racial composition of roads by using mobile phone GPS data. The study confirms a racial bias
6-8-2024

DO WE HAVE MORE EMPATHY FOR PEOPLE WHO ARE SIMILAR TO US? NEW RESEARCH SUGGESTS IT’S NOT THAT SIMPLE

How do people successfully interact with those who are completely different from them? And can these differences create social barriers? Social scientists are struggling with these questions because the mental processes underlying social interactions are not well understood. One recent concept that has become increasingly popular is the “double-empathy problem.” This draws on research looking at people who are known to experience social difficulties,
6-8-2024

HOW CAN WE MAKE GOOD DECISIONS BY OBSERVING OTHERS? A VIDEOGAME AND COMPUTATIONAL MODEL HAVE THE ANSWER

How can disaster response teams benefit from understanding how people most efficiently pick strawberries together, or how they choose the perfect ice cream shop with friends? All these scenarios are based on the very fundamental question of how and when human groups manage to adapt collectively to different circumstances. Two recent studies on collective dynamics by the Cluster of Excellence Science of Intelligence (SCIoI) in Berlin, Germany, lay the groundwork to promote better
6-8-2024

OTHERS’ WORDS, NOT FIRSTHAND EXPERIENCE, SHAPE SCIENTIFIC AND RELIGIOUS BELIEF FORMATION, STUDY FINDS

Three proposals explaining the differential confidence. (A) Intuitively, one might assume that confidence in scientific entities (e.g., germs) is higher than confidence in religious entities (e.g., angels) because scientific entities are observable in principle whereas religious entities are not. (B) The Dual- Pathway Model proposes separate information pathways for scientific versus religious beliefs; belief in scientific entities is primarily driven by direct experience of causal outcomes whereas belief in religious entities is primarily driven by testimony. (C) Contrary to these two models, the Unified Model proposes that belief in both
6-8-2024

TRYING TO SAVE MONEY? RESEARCH SUGGESTS PAYING IN CASH—WHILE YOU STILL CAN

Cash is in crisis. In Australia, it’s now only used for 16% of in-person transactions, down from about 70% in 2007. The situation is so dire that on Monday, independent federal MP Andrew Gee introduced a private member’s bill that would force businesses to accept cash or else face big fines. The reality is that over the past decade, technological advancements have utterly transformed the way we pay for goods and services. Phones and smartwatches can now easily be used to pay by card, and buy-now-pay-later
6-8-2024

MESSAGES CAN TRIGGER THE OPPOSITE OF THEIR DESIRED EFFECT—BUT YOU CAN AVOID COMMUNICATION THAT BACKFIRES

The best graduation speeches dispense wisdom you find yourself returning to long after the graduation tassels are turned. Take the feel-good life advice in Baz Luhrmann’s song to a class that graduated 25 years ago. Only on a recent relisten did I realize it also captures one of the research-based strategies I teach for avoiding communication that backfires. The tip is hiding in plain sight in the song’s title, “Everybody’s Free (to Wear Sunscreen).” Communication aimed at promoting a certain behavior can have the opposite
6-8-2024

DIFFERENCES IN EDUCATION, VALUES BETWEEN MEN AND WOMEN CAUSE MISMATCHES WHEN SEEKING A PARTNER, FINDS SPANISH STUDY

The educational expansion of women has led to changes in the differences in educational level of men and women when looking for a partner. Research conducted by the UAB Center for Demographic Studies (CED-CERCA) has examined for the first time the role of discrepancies in gender role values and education among potential spouses. According to the study, about a third of women in favor of gender equality and with a higher education would not be able to find a homogamous male partner. The work is published in the journal Perspectives
6-8-2024

‘FUZZY’ MAPS OFFER INSIGHT INTO LOCAL PERCEPTIONS OF THE VALUE OF VOLUNTEERING

In the global South, volunteer programs are framed by policymakers and scholars as an effective vehicle for empowering women living in poverty. But this narrative often rests on scant knowledge of the perspectives and experiences of a key set of local stakeholders: the volunteers. A new study co-authored by Yale anthropologist Catherine Panter-Brick addresses this knowledge gap by engaging with Syrian refugees and Jordanian women from poor households in Amman, Jordan,
6-8-2024

EXPERTS SAY USE OF POLITICAL MEMES ARE A PREDICTOR OF POLITICAL VIOLENCE

In a study of social media activity prior to Russia’s full-scale invasion of Ukraine, researchers at the University of Notre Dame say a sharp increase in politically salient imagery online—visual content designed to influence, dehumanize, manipulate and motivate audiences—was a predictor of the conflict. With collaborators at Colby College and Kennesaw State University, the researchers collected post history from a select group of 989 Russian milbloggers—a term used for “military bloggers”
6-8-2024

PROGRAMS TO PREVENT SEXUAL VIOLENCE SHOW NO EVIDENCE OF CURBING ASSAULTS, ANALYSIS FINDS

Sexual violence prevention programs effectively change ideas and beliefs that underscore assaults, but show no evidence of reducing their actual occurrence, a new comprehensive analysis shows. The findings are published in Psychological Science in the Public Interest. Researchers led by behavioral scientist Roni Porat of Hebrew University challenge the assumption that changing people’s thoughts about sexual violence will change their actual behavior. They call on scientists to study more behavior-centered approaches to reducing sexual
6-8-2024

DIVERSE FRIEND GROUPS PROMOTE BETTER SOCIAL COHESION AND WELL-BEING, STUDY FINDS

New research featuring more than 24,000 people has found that having diverse groups of friends improves well-being and social cohesion, despite people’s tendency to gravitate towards people more similar to them. Led by researchers at the University of Birmingham and published in Psychological Science, the study used data from 24,726 adults from over 10,000 English neighborhoods to examine the composition of people’s social networks according to age, ethnicity, income, and education to understand the implications of homophily (preference for similar people) on social cohesion subjective well-being. Dr. Miguel Ramos, lead
6-8-2024

STUDY SHOWS JUSTICE FACILITY DOGS BENEFIT WELL-BEING FOR CHILDREN FACING COURT

A new Edith Cowan University (ECU) study has revealed that having a four-legged friend at Children’s Court significantly reduces stress and anxiety for young victims, witnesses, and their caregivers. ECU criminology researchers Dr. Suz Rock and Associate Professor Natalie Gately have published the first Australian study to evaluate the impact of introducing a justice facility dog to a Children’s Court. The study “Kids, Courts and Canines: Evaluating the Justice Facility Dog Program through a Therapeutic Lens
6-8-2024

SEXUAL MINORITIES EXPERIENCE MORE EXCLUSION IN EVERYDAY SITUATIONS, FINDS STUDY

Lesbian, gay and bisexual people experience exclusion more frequently than heterosexual people. This is the finding of a recent study published in the Personality and Social Psychology Bulletin by researchers from the University of Basel and the RPTU University of Kaiserslautern-Landau. According to the study, people who are perceived as less gender-conforming are more frequently socially excluded. This could also affect heterosexual people if they deviate from traditional
6-8-2024

STILL RIDING LA’S METRO AFTER THE PANDEMIC? YOU PROBABLY THINK IT’S SAFER THAN THOSE WHO DON’T ANYMORE

As Jon Regardie wrote last year in Los Angeles Magazine, “Metro’s raison d’etre is to get hundreds of thousands of people each day across Southern California.” But the COVID-19 pandemic sent the numbers of riders plummeting to a low of 13%, and ridership still hasn’t fully rebounded. The reason may now be clear, thanks to the latest USC Dornsife LABarometer survey, conducted by the Center for Economic and Social Research (CESR) at the USC Dornsife College of Letters, Arts and Sciences. The survey found that although public transportation ridership in
6-8-2024

CAN VAGUE GO VIRAL FOR GEN Y?

Generation Y, Gen Y, is commonly referred to as the millennial generation. It usually includes individuals born between the early 1980s and the mid-to-late 1990s or early 2000s. This generation follows Generation X and precedes Generation Z. The millennials, it is said, grew up during the transition to digital technology and the rise of the internet, and this has shaped their perspectives, behavior, and the way they use technology and media. They are often characterized as tech-savvy, adaptable, and socially conscious, with a strong affinity for social media and digital
6-8-2024

ITALIAN MOMS WITH 3+ KIDS WORK FAR FEWER YEARS THAN DADS, WHILE FINLAND SHOWS EQUALITY

Over the past century, the number of working women in Western countries has steadily increased. However, numerous studies show that it is still primarily women who have to manage the balancing act between parenthood and working life. Compared to fathers and childless women, mothers often have a less straightforward career path and face greater hurdles to career advancement. Little research has been done on what happens to women’s employment trajectories from midlife when childrearing efforts are
6-8-2024

TOP IT INDUSTRY MANAGERS ARE DIVIDED ON THE NEED FOR FACE-TO-FACE COMMUNICATION IN THE WORKPLACE

Many managers are currently seeking a balance between digital and face-to-face communication. A recent study from the University of Eastern Finland published in Information Technology & People shows that top IT industry managers have different views on when and for what purposes face-to-face communication in the workplace is needed. “Some top managers felt that all work tasks can be performed remotely with the help of digital communication. According to them, face-to-face communication is only necessary for maintaining interpersonal relationships and a sense of community,” says Doctoral Researcher Lotta Salin of
6-8-2024

STUDY FINDS SIMPLE HEADLINES ATTRACT MORE ONLINE NEWS READERS

The competition for online attention in today’s news environment is fierce. High-quality news from credible sources must compete for attention with misinformation and a rapidly increasing amount of partisan content. How can a news organization stand out as a reputable and trustworthy outlet while driving readers to its site? The answer is simple: literally. According to research from Michigan State University, news readers engage more with simple writing, suggesting journalists should write simply—clearly and without ambiguity—to attract attention online. The study was published in the journal Science Advances. “Newsrooms want
6-8-2024

STUDY SHOWS BANNING FALSE INFORMATION TRAFFICKERS ONLINE CAN IMPROVE PUBLIC DISCOURSE

When Twitter banned more than 70,000 traffickers of false information from its platform in the wake of the violence at the U.S. Capitol on Jan. 6, 2021, the impact went beyond the silencing of those users. A study co-authored by UC Riverside public policy and political science scholars published in the journal Nature on June 5, found that the crackdown by Twitter (now called X after it was acquired by billionaire Elon Musk in late 2022) also significantly reduced the number of misinformation posts by users who stayed on the
6-8-2024

YOUNG ADULTS SAY STEADY SUPPORT FROM CARING ADULTS MADE DIFFERENCE IN TRANSITIONING FROM CHILD WELFARE SYSTEM

Young people who have exited foster care generally fare better—in work, school and relationships—if they get consistent support from adults who care about them during their teen years. My research team reached these findings by interviewing 21 people, now in their late 20s, who had aged out of foster care when they turned 18, had spent time in foster care as children or grew up in families that had active child welfare cases. These young adults relayed the degree to which they received support from
6-8-2024

HOW THE 1901 DISCOVERY EXPEDITION’S POLAR EXPLORERS STAYED HEALTHY DURING THEIR ANTARCTIC JOURNEY

Antarctica is the most inhospitable continent on earth. It’s dry, cold, and completely dark for months of the year. Edwardian explorers were some of the first to brave the Antarctic winter, developing new knowledge still drawn upon by scientists today. The Discovery expedition (1901–4) played a key role in the history of polar exploration. It was led by the Royal Navy commander Robert Falcon Scott, a pioneering polar explorer who died in 1912 after attempting to reach the south pole. The expedition’s third lieutenant was Ernest Shackleton, who led three
6-8-2024

SUSTAINABLE BUSINESS MODELS INFUSED WITH AGRI-INNOVATION SYSTEMS CAN REDUCE POST-HARVEST FOOD LOSS AND WASTE

developing sustainable business models that are multi-actor networked for integrating them with agricultural innovation systems initiatives can enable a systemic approach for reducing food loss and value loss at the post-harvest
6-8-2024

WILL THE 2024 OLYMPIC GAMES BECOME THE PLAYING FIELD FOR SOCIAL JUSTICE PROTESTS?

Yannick Kluch, a professor of recreation, sport and tourism at the University of Illinois Urbana-Champaign, studies sport as a platform for promoting social justice. Kluch has worked with the U.S. Olympic and Paralympic Committee, U.S. Diving and the National Collegiate Athletic Association. He spoke with research editor Sharita Forrest about the history of Olympic athletes’ social justice protests and governing organizations’ efforts to avert them with Rule 50 of the Olympic Charter.
6-8-2024

STUDY FINDS WE SPEND MORE WITH CASHLESS PAYMENTS

A study found support for the existence of a positive “cashless effect,” which is when consumers spend more when using cashless payment methods in comparison to cash. The study suggests the cashless effect leads people to spend more when purchasing products that are typically used to signal status, such as jewelry. However, the
6-8-2024

LAWS MEANT TO KEEP DIFFERENT RACES APART STILL INFLUENCE DATING PATTERNS, DECADES AFTER BEING INVALIDATED

If you are single and looking for a romantic partner, chances are that you have used a dating app. But the likelihood that others will like, or even see, your profile may depend on your race. Studies have found that all people on dating apps, regardless of their own race, are more likely to contact white people using the app. And all people using dating apps are least likely to contact African American women and Asian American men. Until recently, some popular apps, including OkCupid, Match, Hinge and Grindr, provided
6-8-2024

VIRTUAL LABS IN PSYCHOLOGY RESEARCH BOOST DIVERSITY

University of Oregon psychologists are breaking down barriers to include underrepresented populations in research by bringing laboratories online. The researchers are trying to address a longstanding issue in psychology studies, which often rely on undergraduate students to volunteer as research subjects.
6-8-2024

ATTENDING LOCAL EVENTS STRENGTHENS NEIGHBORHOOD BONDS, SURVEY REVEALS

how often people visit and actively participate in local events and how this affects their sense of place or their connection to their community. A survey of almost 400 households in the state’s coastal council area of the City of Holdfast Bay found that people who frequently attend local events or participate as volunteers, organizers or exhibitors, have a stronger
6-8-2024

STUDY SHOWS ONLINE PROFESSIONAL EDUCATION WORKS FOR COMPLEX TOPICS

“COVID-19 forced educators to adjust their educational best practices to an unfamiliar virtual classroom, and professional development was no different,” said Karen Jo Matsler, assistant professor in practice for UTeach at UTA
6-8-2024

EYE-TRACKING STUDY REVEALS THAT SIMPLY LOOKING AT THE NATURAL WORLD IN URBAN AREAS CAN REAP WELL-BEING BENEFITS

Integrating more natural features into city landscapes can play a crucial role in enhancing the mental well-being of residents. A study by Bangor University and Technion- Israel Institute of Technology, published in the scientific journal People and Nature, involved city dwellers and showed how paying visual attention to greenery, rather than human-made structures, can alleviate anxiety and enhance restorative feelings. The 117 urban residents who took part in the study, were guided on a
6-8-2024

ADVERTISERS MAY BE INADVERTENTLY FUNDING MISINFORMATION

Companies in industries such as health care, technology and insurance have been found to advertise on misinformation websites, according to an analysis published in Nature. In a related experiment, consumers who were made aware that a company advertised on a misinformation website were likely to reject an offer of a gift voucher to spend with that company. The majority of digital advertisement placement on the internet is done via an algorithm-based distribution
6-8-2024

STUDY SUGGESTS EVOLUTIONARY BASIS FOR MALE RISK-TAKING BEHAVIORS

why we associate risk-taking with males rather than females, from an evolutionary standpoint. Study author Hannah Goodman, from UWA’s School of Human Sciences, said researchers found men engaged in riskier behaviors when crossing a busy traffic intersection, supporting growing evidence that risk-taking is predominantly an androcentric behavior. “Males

This writeup goes out to all the people who have ever felt mediocre, average, or below average through medical school. I've struggled with imposter syndrome all through medical school and consistently scored below average on all didactic/pre-clinical exams. I was ranked 3rd quartile (probably close to 4th quartile) after M2 year. My main goal in writing this to inspire/encourage others and tell you that YOU CAN DO IT.
For context, I'm a US MD student. Studying started at the very beginning of my M3 year. I used the AnKing deck > Shelf Tags > and then made decks for each rotation out of those cards. I honored most the shelf exams except for FM, neuro, and IM. So, in retrospect, that probably did help a good amount. There was absolutely no attempt to maintain my cards after each rotation, homegirl was just trying to stay alive and there was simply no chance of it happening lol.
Dedicated started on 4/4 with my exam scheduled for 5/25. I spent 4-5 days going back through each of my anki shelf decks. I ended up skipping the entire neuro anki shelf deck, as it took me a while to get thru the IM and peds shelf decks again (these took more like 6-8 days). I took about one practice test per week during all this (listed in the order I took them)
Month 1: main focus was on Anki and knowledge
UWSA 1 216
NBME 1 220
NBME 6 can't remember (230s?)
NBME 9 241
Getting through all the anki shelf decks again took until the end of April, after which, I switched to focusing on UWorld. My Anki reviews by this time took me about 4 hours each morning (I sometimes did every other day too), after which I did about 4-5 UWorld blocks per day (this was kinda crazy lol). I also ramped things up to two practice tests per week. Second pass thru Uworld was 81% correct with 53% used. (My first pass was literally 46%, but things were a LOT better after having done Anki).
Month 2: main focus was on practice and test-taking strategies
NBME 14 can't remember (240s?)
NBME 13 can't remember (240s?)
NBME 10 can't remember (I do remember being really happy because I broke 250 here though)
UWSA 3 242
UWSA 2 257 (I read that this was the most representative, so I saved it for last)
Free 120: 88%
I switched up how I reviewed my practice tests for the last 4 exams after reading a post on here (I can't find the post rn, but someone please link if you can!) In it, person talks about how they categorized their incorrects into different categories.
Mine were:
knowledge gaps (i.e. I didn't know the right antibiotic regimen or didn't know symptoms assoc. with the disease)
missed key clues in the question stem (i.e. important risks like occupation/exposure, missed unstable vital signs, etc)
compare/contrast errors (i.e. mixing up PBC vs. PSC or CML vs CLL, etc)
After changing how I reviewed things, I made a list of test-taking strategies. My biggest problem is SKIMMING. Therefore, for every question, I started making a habit to read every question in a certain order. I start with the question/purpose of the question (is it management? diagnosis? next best step?) > then, age of patient > then, as I read, I highlight key hints/clues > and lastly, vitals (are they stable/unstable?). I have to FORCE myself to highlight these things to make sure I don't skim. Once I get through the question, I pick my answer, but then, make a conscious effort to go back through the other options and cross them out one-by-one. If there's any hesitation about my answer choice, I really stop, and try to consider other answer choices.
My last week, I did UWorld blocks for social sciences/ethics and biostats. Also listened to the "high-yield" Divine Intervention podcast episodes. Lastly, I made a burner account to get the 5-day free trial and access the Amboss quality improvement/safety articles. I would highly recommend these during the last week! I mixed in a few UWorld blocks to try and stay in the test-taking mode and took Free120 3 days before my exam. The day before my exam, I read through my document of all my NBME incorrects and then just went to get dinner and chill out.
My actual exam day went horribly. I cried during one of my breaks and teared up in front of the proctor as she was checking me in after one of my breaks. Questions felt SUPER vague and not as straightforward as during the practice exams. There were none of the "high-yield" topics I was used to seeing, I was getting really stuck between answer choices, and also really getting into my head/second-guessing myself. I ended up taking a break after every block because I was tweaking out so hard lol. I left my exam feeling defeated and like all my work over the last two months were wasted.
Cue to a few days ago when I opened up my score report and received a 267. So, as my friends reminded me, I hope to remind everyone that 80 questions during the exam are experimental. That's basically two entire blocks. So you if you find yourself spiraling during the exam like I did, just take a break, drink some water, and let yourself reset before you go back in. Every block is a new one, so just keep trying and continue trusting yourself. If you feel terrible after the exam, that's ok too (I definitely did). Post-exam day, I hope everyone can find it within themselves to feel proud of their hard work and dedication no matter what their score ends up being. Studying for this exam is so so brutal and it is such an accomplishment to even get to exam day and finish this thing.
This is a super long writeup but I hope it can be helpful to someone out there. Good luck to everyone studying! You can do it!!

Was hoping for a clean 100 souls but have 75 instead. Maybe the last 25 can be filled with other DM's/Party's ideas/adventures. I like something unfinished, honestly.
There's some obvious influence/thievery from OSR heavy hitters in here but I've attempted to keep it at a minimum just to inch my way to a clean 75 since 100 is proving troublesome. And honestly I've forgotten where some of these stolen/restructured ideas have come from. Feel free to credit link any so others can know their great works.
(e.g. P. Stuart, D. Selle, Coins and Scrolls, Goblin Punch, Vivien Feasson, S. Princess, Z. Cox/B. Brown, B. Milton, L. Rejec, P. Nilsson)
I doubt all the aforementioned are present in this list but I just wanna cover bases and/or call out incredible minds and effort in the hobby who I've really enjoyed. Call out any unlisted if you please. Credit where credit is due.
Edit: Whoof, formatting again
Edit 2: Cant change some numeration here it seems. Sub-traits are counted as independent entries. Italicized and emboldened sub-traits to help differentiate.
The Stilletto of The Imperator Scum (Trident)
On an (un)natural 20, consume a soul randomly from the table activating its effect, removing it from the table permanently
On a (un)natural 1, the target dies immediately and is resurrected as an undead. Pores on its body explode with rapid growth fungus and it’s health, and spell slots if applicable, are restored to their maximums. Their soul then becomes one with The Stiletto and is added to the table.
Soul of the…:

1. Ardent Giant - +2d6 dmg. to your attacks towards the target. Change the weather to which you desire
2. Befouler - target fucking stinks, if within 15ft Con. Sav 12 every round to keep from vomiting.
3. Gnarled Oak - that target lives the life of a tree in an instant. Witnessing love of child and pet. They see the first kiss of young love with the tip of the blade within their trunk declaring theirs eternal. They bear the burden of parenthood, choked with a child’s swing. The same swing their groom or bride will swing on, in remembrance, decades later. A generation of someones else’s life wears on them in the span of seconds. T
   1. Take 1d4 dmg. from the blade
   2. -2 Wis. as the dog pisses on them (1min duration)
   3. 3d8 dmg. as their branches are cut for a treehouse
   4. They will fall asleep in winter temperatures unable to wake up
   5. As long as their corpse touches soil they will resurrect in unspecified time
   6. If the target is killed within a city (soil or not) they will die sobbing with such penetrating sobbing. Within a mile radius, it lowers all CHA and WIS scores within range by 2 for 24hrs.
4. Devil - the target’s eyes wash with color and your reflection is upside down. They provide you a contract/offer that is too good to pass up. You literally can’t resist it but it’s also a really great deal. Other than the fact that your soul is lost at failure of completion. Unless the killing blow dealt to the Devil is holy damage, they arrive at The Nine Hells to bide their time before they continue their cursed bargains upon the mortal realm.
5. Claviger - The target is compelled to open the nearest door. If not the door, then box/barrel, chest, bag, pocket. Consume their next action. If the object doesn't open, spend each preceding action until it does.
6. Scion of the Slithering Soil - the target embodies the nameless soul of a god-fearing priest of Mi-Shao-Shur. Dedicated fully to Serpentine Ascension by committing acts of gratuitous depravity. They become a beacon for the resurrection of Mi-Shao-Shur by consuming their own flesh, restoring their health to its maximum. Revealing underneath their now-true serpentine forms. Their intelligence increases by 4 and from their mouths can cast the Poison Spray cantrip. The target can now communicate with nearby creatures and convince them to do their bidding.
7. Exploding Toad - target explodes. Dex Sav 13 or take 5d6 fire dmg.
8. Dwarf - target becomes one. Genderless. Immune to all compulsions that play on a desire for sex. No sexual organs. Instead of urinating you excrete waste through sweating, explaining the odor.
9. Tahlia - the target’s soul becomes trapped on the most worthless item on their person that isn’t a weapon or armor. Their body begins to thrash and scream mindlessly. Bodies are full of life and feelings but suffer the penultimate separation anxiety from the soul. The terrified shell will attempt to consume the item worth most to someone nearby with supernatural capacity. If they do so, your item is lost forever and the target becomes whole once more, restoring full health.
10. PorteBasin Filler - Nothing satiates the target’s desire to serve, will seek out more and more challenging tasks for such a talented valet
11. Abhorrer - target is unable to be targeted with any malice. The hate within you boils still but physically you are unable to be anything but be cordial and polite to the target. The creature knows every law and obeys them. It will use the law (if there is any) to destroy you.
12. Cannibal Critic - target is no longer able to communicate in normal language. Of their cursed race the target can only howl bestial war cries of generic criticism. And hastily consume flesh. Successfully answering a question can cause the target to pause and grunt in reflection before screaming another random question.
    1. WHAT’S THE MESSAGE
    2. WHAT DOES IT MEAN
    3. IS IT IRONIC
    4. IS IT KITSCH
    5. DON’T YOU FIND IT PROBLEMATIC
13. Dragonborn - If the dmg. dealt is to a non-dragonborn creature then the creature takes dmg. from their innate breath weapon, held within glands of which no non-dragonborn is prepared. 6d6 acid and poison dmg as their insides boil with draconic bile.
14. Gargoyle - FUCK BIIIIIRRRRRRRRDSSSSSSSSSS!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
15. Duergar - roll a d2 to Enlarge/Reduce target. Acquire sensitivity to sunlight regardless.
16. Untermensch - the target’s muscles atrophy and their mind begins to falter as all of their ability scores reduce to 8. If one of their scores is less than 8 it does not rise to 8. Apply a -2 mod. to every dice rolled. The only thing of which they can be relied upon is to either fail or clumsily execute every task.
17. Drow - target adheres to a woman’s word almost unwillingly and acquires sensitivity to sunlight. Incessantly mutters consequence for someone under their breath for whom they despise.
18. Githzerai - target casts Plane Shift unwittingly on self.
19. Bedlam Bird - The target knows when it is being looked at. The target loses all alliances and registers as “Evil” to spells and senses that detect such. It is compelled to commit pranks that are utterly fucked.
20. Wizard - Your weapon moves through the air at your exact command. Gains Antimagic Susceptibility. Lasts 2 min.
21. Azer - The target’s head ignites, it’s skull a torchlight shining bright light in a 15ft radius and dim light for an additional 10ft. It cannot be put out with water. The target takes 1d8 per round for 3 rounds.
22. Banshee - the target casts Wail. All within 30 ft. (including target) Con sav 13 or drop to 0 HP. On a success 3d6 psychic dmg. After the Wail, the target goes mute as their vocal cords are stretched to leather and can only emit a poor whine if exhaustion.
23. Androsphinx - The target’s body explodes and from within erupts a Heroes’ Feast. The depleted carcass turning into a gorgeous royal table spread.
24. Basilisk - Bestowed upon the target is a basilisk’s Petrifying Gaze.
25. Revenant - The target will rise as a Revenant 48 hrs after it’s death for the one who killed it.
26. Cat - The target has to be killed 8 more times.
27. Eigengrau - The target loses all memories from the last 24 hours
28. Zoanthrop - Target strips naked. Immune to all mind altering effects.
29. Wizard Hunter - Do you cast spells? You’re FUCKED.
30. Wild Magic Sorcerer - Roll 3 times on the Wild Magic table. All within 60ft radius are affected by the wild magic emanating from the target
31. Unseen Servant - Target turns invisible. Acts upon every command you give to it flawlessly. Limited only by its ability scores (they don’t change). Loses ability to speak or think for itself. Will not be around whenever you wake up from your next period of sleep.
32. Nabassu - target acquires a soul stealing gaze, anyone to look at the target must make a DC 16 Cha saving throw or reduce its maximum hit points by 13 permanently
33. Giant Squid - the target, upon this successful attack and when panicked or fleeing, squirts copious amounts of ink from their eyes, nose and mouth. Mixed with blood because that’s not supposed to happen, 1d8 dmg. with each use
34. Werewolf - the target shreds their outer layer of skin revealing blood soaked fur underneath, taking the form of a werewolf and using a werewolf’s stats, with their skin they also shed any physical and mental conditions
35. Gazer - the target gains the Gazer’s ability to mimic any simple sounds of speech in any language, with the target’s weak eyes it casts Dazing Ray and Fear Ray on itself and collapses into a depressive slump on the floor, screaming in fear in the last voice it heard, unable to flee
36. Virgin - the target becomes the crucial object in the ritual of the nearest carnal, gluttonous, murderous or heretical cult for their petty god, monster or demon of chosen worship. What will their death summon?
37. Nupperibo - the target acquires an insatiable hunger consuming any organic material within reach and easy enough to chew if no living opponent is within 30 ft. If the target attacks or is attacked by a living mortal then it can track that opponent flawlessly as it hungers for its flesh. Greater meals or death will cause it to leave you alone
38. Phoenix - the target explodes and each creature within 60ft must make a DC20 dex save, taking 4d10 fire damage on a failed save, or half as much on a successful one. The explosion destroys the target's body and leaves behind an egg shaped cinder that weighs 5 pounds. The cinder is lukewarm seeing as the target isn’t an actual phoenix. It is not immune to anything seeing as the target isn’t an actual phoenix. After 1d6 days, it hatches into an infant of whatever race the target was.
39. Oblex - target becomes amorphous if it isn’t already. Unfamiliar with it’s new form the target slumps into a pile of ooze unable to move, eat or breathe.
40. Gauth - the target begins to float into the air uncontrollably. With fewer eyes than the Gauth the target is blessed with only Pushing Ray and Sleep Ray, both of which it casts on itself, as it floats snoring into the clouds
41. Bullywug - the target becomes so repulsive that nature itself will reward you for its demise. If or when the target is killed you are healed to your maximum and your Con. increases by 1. It will be difficult though, because the target can talk to frogs and loves lording their power over you and has absolutely no shame. They immediately give themselves a shitty title that means nothing and will love talking about how every swamp ever is theirs to rule. Oh and they fucking reek, if you get within 10ft you’ll vomit automatically and uncontrollably
42. Hivemind - the target’s spinal cord vibrates and emits pheromones to call any swarming creatures (rats, insects, birds, etc.) nearby into a frenzy causing them to fall into chaotic bloodlust and whomever the target chooses
43. Modron - the target loses all mercy and remorse and will fight for their current objective even putting their own lives at risk. The target becomes immune to mind-affecting, emotion-affecting, and magic that draws upon the Positive Energy or the Negative Energy plane. You could quell its pursuit if something with 4 sides or more was able to give orders for it to stop.
44. Obliviax - you must make a con. save (DC 12) or else the target eats your memory of the last 24hrs and heals for d20+4 health. If you fail, you also lose 1 spell slot if you have one to lose and forget 1 spell randomly, if you know any, each for 24 hours. If you save they still heal as all they have to eat are things that you know but forgot you knew, like that play you really liked that one time
45. Strandvaskaren - the target is infected with the soul of one who drowned at sea but the waters preserved him in the inch worm gap between life and death and they float neither alive nor dead. The target feels heavy, cold, lungs weak, aware but able to move. The pressure of uncharted waters sits heavy on their chest and their strength is reduced by half rounded down.
46. Impartial Anima - the target solely relies on a pair of wolf bone dice (or another pair of dice if those go missing) to tell them how to make decisions. 1-10 is a no or negative response. 11-20 is a yes or positive response.
47. Adventuring Party - the target grows a magnificent mustache as steel armor sprouts from their skin and their hands glow with arcane magicks. Their pockets grow fat with religious symbols as a toddler’s diaper would when it’s stomach is upset. Or when it’s angry. Or even flirty. You sense a celestial presence hover over them as they grip their newly found sword and bow they are obviously skilled at using. You thought you had a fair amount of gold to possibly bribe them with but you realize you walk with a lighter step and at their feet your valuable currency lies in a burlap sack
48. Seraphim - the target knows nothing but their own feelings and nothing worth nothing ever came out of a book. The only true things, now, are feelings. Anyone who attempts to attack it must save or hesitate in it’s presence. The environment around the target begins to convert into things beautiful and pure. Roll d4
49. All metal within 50ft turns to gold
50. The target bleeds from sacred stigmata and the blood turns to rose petals as it falls
51. Grows wings and if already winged they are instead, actually, held aloft by a flock of doves
52. They lose their clothing and double in size as their skin turns alabaster white and they wear only a ribbon
53. Animated Barrel - the target attempts to grapple the nearest opponent and once successful begins to throw itself against walls, down stairs and out windows; enjoying the process. The target takes half damage while the opponent grappled takes double.
54. Panther - the target speaks all languages and becomes evil (if not already), honorable and utterly merciless. Will chat up it’s victims or give them a head start before murdering them.
55. Djinn - the target is imprisoned in the nearest vessel and must do their best to fulfill 3 requests for the one who frees them. They are given no additional power to accomplish this.
56. Barnyard Chimera - the target's head bends backwards horrifically making room for it to grow the heads of a cow, pig and goat. It grows the tails of a goose that spews blinding shit. When killed it splits open, spilling out 3d6 featherless, bloody chickens with red eyes and sharp talons. It runs on malformed horse legs speaking but only repetitious mindless phrases. "How about that weather, huh?" "Well, let's finish up and then have supper." "Aw hell, she's coming out breech."
57. Psychopomp - the target will become a guide/beacon for one of the hostile souls devoured by The Imperator Scum resurrecting it and freeing it from the trident.
58. Bell Dragger - the target is imbued with the soul of a wronged martyr. Their eyes go sickly white and they walk on their hands and knees dragging them to bloody stumps. Solely focused on the path to the afterlife, they will forever crawl until they find it. But Bell Draggers are both the summoners and chariot horses for death’s arrival. She will arrive soon.
59. Watch Lark - the target blooms a random amount of additional eyes all across their face above the nose. They can see through thick foliage and thin walls and all attacks have disadvantage on them as they always see you coming. Disadvantage against being blinded.
60. Remorhaz - the target’s stomach bubbles a heated secretion that spills from their mouth. The heat from both their mouth and body is strong enough to melt any nonmagical metals. 2d20 dmg. for every turn spent within 5ft of them. The bile is useful to alchemists in making heat related magical items. The target also becomes highly resistant to magic.
61. Arolohnso, Petty God of Labyrinths - the target using 3 fingers on each hand encircles themself drawing angular, snaking lines in the soil around them. Creating an elaborate maze of which they are the end. The borders drawn become invisible, impenetrable walls that protect them from all things but protect the target of their wrath from nothing. To reach the target, and make them vulnerable, you must draw a line through their maze solving it.
62. White Lion - the target becomes a Queen/King of a fallen kingdom. No serfs nor servants to pretend to care for them. They’re safer now than they’ve ever been (at least from the dangers of someone else’s hands). Their name and legend and royal blood is all lost to a land that has no gods nor masters any longer. Roll for effect:
63. They take their life as all of their worth was found in their property. Either by claw, royal dagger or casting themselves off a cliff or into the ocean, etc.
64. Their crimes as Queen/King are unforgivable and heirs to the wronged will appear behind the target and murder them in cold blood
65. The conquering challenger to their name/bloodline appears and disembowels them splashing you with their old, freshly-poor blood. They are an unpersuadable antagonist and the target is a pathetic remnants of a now dead kingdom
66. You are the new Queen/King. To a country side, people and riches unknown. When you find your kingdom your blood will lead you to wine and fresh fruit. The throne will be warm for your arrival. The target feels their royal blood leave them and they become desperate to drink it fresh from your veins to maintain their deific right. Their hostility is doubled.
67. The Whisperer - Trees whisper. The noise is low, tectonic, incomprehensible. Dial tone static bleeding through the vines of the deepest holts and groves. Spirits dance and gather around antler crowned gods who rule the brazen forest. Soft sounds bloom to life. Elves who hear this music sing to it wringing melodies from the resonances of the treesong. The target collapses into a sobbing heap. They are being wrung dry (poetically) from the beauty of the woodsong. When you’ve obtained comprehension of such extravagant, egoless harmonies what petty life squabble is worth donating your energy towards? The target cares not for your childish conflict any longer. They are possessed by the inability to remember the words to such an old song. One they recognize but do not remember. You can’t help them. They are no ally but no enemy. Pain cures all curses of the mind, though. Do not fetter them with continuing aggression lest you help them lose their place. If so, their hostility will quadruple.
68. Brave Explorer - the target has a distaste for the beaten path. So much so that it is unable to repeat any action, starting from this effect, becoming more and more unpredictable over time.
69. Leper - the target’s flesh becomes warped and scaly becoming an offense to your gaze. You can barely look upon them without vomiting on yourself. Unwilling to project your bile in any direction less it crosses your gaze once more. The Target gains expertise on stealth checks both active and passive. DC 14 Con save to resist puking at the sight of them. Once you succeed a check, remain immune to their image for 24 hrs.
70. Antithetical Spirit - the target’s emotional attachment for the world and its inhabitants become reversed to their present disposition. Do they hate you? Now they love you. Do they want to kill you? Now they want to fuck you. Do they want to eliminate everything you love and make you watch? Now they will kill everything you love in tribute to your limitless beauty and knowledge. Careful how you treat people.
71. Chadwick - the target is just...un-fucking-bearable to listen to. When they say your name it feels dirty afterwards and you just want to wash your parent’s mouths after the fact. They go on about bird calls as if they don’t have to take a breath to keep going. The target becomes an energy vampire and drains you of any optimism you have for the day and all you want is for this goon to go back to their home to watch the paint dry and not inform you of the oxygen reacting to the resin causing polymerisation of the paint leading to it’s lack of sheen once it’s settled. The rage in you is that equal to a Berserker and you gain the Frenzy trait. But you also suffer the effects of the Slow spell until you save on a Wis DC 15 at the start of your turn or kill the target.
72. Johann Smiff - the target immediately becomes a stranger to you and anyone who can see them. Their face and identity are so familiar and on the tip of your tongue but sooner to become dismissed as deja vu then remembered. They know who they are. But they are a face in the crowd before anything else to you. The one you knew them to be still exists in your mind but it is certainly not the target. The effect will wear off after the next long rest.
73. Bay Dolphin - saltwater, freshwater, the target can breathe in either and requires one or the other to do so at all. The target remains highly intelligent, as dolphins are, and retains it’s motor skills and muscle memory. The target will rush to find itself a suitable environment to be able to breathe once more, as a blowhole begins to peer open upon their scalp, but will be able to do so without panic for several minutes. Once they get into the water their constitution and dexterity both become 20 and they are immune to fear.
74. Atticus Aurelius - the target is imbued with the soul of a famed gladiator from several eras passed. Skilled with any weapon as Atticus was, the target becomes proficient with all physical weapons (improvised or not). Able to command the applause of an audience at the drop of his helmet. If a crowd surrounds you (of any humanoid, undead/constructs or not) the target can command them to boo you and your allies causing you to suffer from the effects of Bane. Or they may cheer the target applying the effects of Bless. No saves. If the audience is unsatisfied at a poor showing or cheating habits their boos and riot will suppress you further applying the effects of Slow. Put on an absolute banger of a show with flourish and skill and their cheers will apply the effects of Haste. No saves.
75. Jäegerjog - the target’s soul becomes the one born to die at your hand. Sewn into the never ending tapestry of time it is their fate to perish by your influence alone. They know it though you may not. They also know everything about you and they have advantage against you in every aspect as you suffer disadvantage in every reflective aspect. They also can’t be killed by anyone but you.
76. Dracolich - the target becomes an unwilling phylactery of an ancient Dracolich. Watch the skies…
77. Rook - the target and all who can see them become one within The Parliament. Each individual is now on trial and must provide a story to be judged by their peers. As the anecdotes unfold more and more blackbirds will arrive and encircle the lot of you to listen in. At the DM’s discretion the one who told the least captivating tale will be pecked to death by the encircling birds, and attacked by any affected N/PC, for 15d10 dmg before they flutter off. No save can be made less you reveal yourself as an outsider and ally yourself with the guilty. (WIS DC 14 for the most rebellious of you). Any shiny trinkets you can throw within the circle will decrease the DC by 1.
78. Nymph - the target becomes a beacon of inequitable beauty. Their form becomes statuesque to each individual who gaze upon them. Their desire to fight dissipates and they become concerned only with judging others for their beauty. Weak in the knees to the target’s newly bestowed sex appeal, you unwillingly confess to them which part of yourself you hate the most. Confused by their Nymph aura, though they are none. Whoever they take pity on most reduces their CHA score by 1. The target then runs away, believing the mere presence of such filthy, struggling adventurers despoils their presence just by being near. The air of death and rot on you is more present than it’s ever been. You cannot help but stay on your knees as you watch them flee. You are free from their hold once they leave your sight.
79. Übermensch - the target can perform any action perfectly with mathematical efficiency. Consider every one of their ability scores and rolls a 20 without the proficiency modifier. The target lacks heart and chaos in their soul from this point forward. They can execute all required of them perfectly. There is no surprise in their execution. They will always perform at maximum potential except in the dealings of art. They can be taught, certainly, but without thorough guidance all of their CHA rolls equate to zero regardless of modifiers.
80. Star-Crossed Lover - a soul torn asunder, the target becomes one half of a harmonious pairing that will bring light and love into this world. A larger piece of the puzzle than you are at this moment. The union of the target and their mysterious lover are victims, but vital players, in a blood feud. Their death(s) will shift the tide in a grand conflict unseen...
81. Woodland Eidolon - the target's eyes become ovaled and protrude subtly from their head as a nervous fawn’s would. Their skin molts and grows fine ivory hairs as they shiver and freeze. Unblinking. Shallow sharp breaths. A spirit of the woods stands before you and you have the span of a blink to claim your kill or else they are lost to legends told around the campfire once more. Their DEX Skill becomes 20 and all DEX checks and saves are criticals made with advantage. They can outrun your magical influence and know when you’re going to act before you do. But….if the stars are aligned and you land the killing blow (any successful attack is a killing blow)...their trophy will bring you gifts of which you only dreamed
82. Antlers - netted in a spider’s web wet with morning dew, the glistening beads and weave act as a dream catcher for the most malicious nightmares protecting you from magical influence as you sleep
83. Pelt - it warms you as a campfire would and as long as you are blanketed by it you are immune to cold and your health regenerates for 4 for every round of combat it’s equipped
84. Horn - left lying in the dirt it is a sign of something terrible and conquering walking the grounds, an obelisk of bone that prevents predators and ambushes alike within a mile radius. But if you are caught carrying it you are seen as a dishonorable scavenger and your name will be besmirched within the wilds. The pheromones from it act as a subtle aphrodisiac amongst humanoids (not including undead/constructs) and you have prof. in CHA checks
85. Scrimshaw - an ivory tusk from a Mother Walvis decorated with a sailor’s tale of his time on the seas. The carvings are half finished leaving most of the tusk bare. All stories have an ending and this sailor’s is now yours to tell. This tusk will bring you a boat when you have none. All you must do is find shore. It will also allow you to hold your breath for up to an hour.
86. Broken Night - the target becomes bored by all they know well. Any extraordinary item they have on their person that they are well acquainted with will equal the value of trash immediately. If they know you well, then their pursuit of you, or risk thereof diminishes entirely. They will respond to threats accordingly but otherwise would prefer something strange and rare to busy themselves. Especially if it is of a teasing nature. If they hold something of interest to you then they are always willing to trade for a more interesting object. Or even a story perhaps.
87. Neogi - A Neogi can smother a weak mind with some ease. The target’s mind becomes weak. Prey for any who have the ambition to use it for their own bidding until the body collapses. The target becomes cowardice prey. If so inclined, you’re welcome to impose your will upon them. Though so can everyone else. The blank-canvas-welcome of their mindscape has too much potential to pass up. Greedy minds can sniff out the glove-fit of their embryonic potential like a shark for blood. Who says no to a soft body that asks for it?

I’ve decided to rewatch every Amazing Race and rank them all.
*************************************
SEASON 24 (ALL STARS) gets a 6/10
*************************************
This is probably one of the most frustrating seasons! It looked like very little effort was put into the returnee cast, the route, the challenges, leg designs and even editing/storylines were inconsistent. However…it usually wasn’t boring! There was some drama (some of it a bit annoying though), there was the charm of seeing returnees (I do love the appeal of All Star seasons), and a season with Rachel Reilly is never boring! So I find it similar to the Family Edition in that it has lots of flaws but is generally entertaining enough to enjoy. So it gets a 6 because it was still enjoyable (but is obviously ranked near the bottom).
*************************************
Theme

• This is the 3rd returnee season (after TAR11 All Stars, TAR18 Unfinished Business and now TAR24 All Stars). An All Star season is meant to be the “best of the best” and this season consisted of returnees from TAR18-TAR23 only as well as some 3-time players. Also no winners and some early boots, so it actually feels more like Unfinished Business 2 rather than All Stars 2. I love returnee seasons and seeing entertaining past players interact and you feel invested in them in episode 1 (most seasons take a few episodes to become invested in the cast). However it was the weakest Amazing Race returnee cast by far.
  
• Now to judge the returnee cast. Out of the 2-time players, you had 4 fantastic choices (Natalie/Nadiya, Leo/Jamal, BoppeMark, Brendan/Rachel) and 4 terrible choices (Dave/Connor, John/Jessica, Joey/Meghan, Caroline/Jennifer, all from TAR22 haha). Dave/Connor more suited an Unfinished Business season. I wouldn’t even mind if they just slotted Dave/Connor into a regular season with 10 other newbie teams like Bruce in Survivor 45 (rather than wasting a precious All Stars slot). They’re nothing special - they just raced 4 legs and got medevaced so they wouldn’t be too out of place on a regular season. I even said Eric/Danielle from TAR11 could have raced on a regular season too. Not using an Express Pass (John/Jessica) is NOT a reason to be on All Stars (also not that interesting), Joey/Meghan were only back because of their YouTube fame (also not that interesting), and Caroline/Jennifer are there for the hot girl team quota (and AGAIN not that interesting). The main criteria should be ENTERTAINMENT and these 4 were NOT.
  
• Out of the 3-time players, Jet/Cord were a good choice being such a fan favourite (despite being very overrated), Margie/Luke are always a fascinating team to watch so they were fine, but Flight Time/Big Easy weren’t needed for a 3rd time. They were fine in TAR15 but were just okay in TAR18 so I don’t see anything new they could bring really. So many better 3-time choices. And lastly you have the Mark/Mallory hybrid which I’m actually not too negative on (Mallory is also a 3-timer). Ideally they should have put on an alternate team when Bopper couldn’t race but I think Mark/Mallory had potential for entertainment and a fascinating storyline. Very different from Eric/Danielle’s situation because Mark AND Mallory were both popular characters.
  
• I personally don’t mind 3-timers if it will improve the cast but I know many fans would prefer to stick with just 2-time players for fairness. But I don’t believe any combination of 2-timers would have made this a good cast, with fans suggesting Andy/Tommy, Jaymes/James, Pam/Winnie, Max/Katie, Abbie/Ryan etc. Let’s be honest - these teams would not have dramatically improved the quality of the cast! They should have either waited a few seasons or just go all out and try to replicate Survivor Heroes vs Villains (regarded as one of the best All Star seasons of Reality TV) - it had winners, lots of 3-timers, classic players and no weak links in the cast. While I believe TAR24 was too soon for an All Stars, Survivor Heroes vs Villains was also “too soon” (only 4 seasons after Fans vs Favorites) but good casting made it a legendary season. 3-timers and winners are not necessarily a bad thing!
  
• So this is who I would have picked (I believe just go all out and get the biggest stars and characters possible) = I would have only picked 4 teams from TAR19-TAR23 (Brendan/Rachel, Natalie/Nadiya, BoppeMark, Leo/Jamal). While Bopper would still have gotten sick, I would have picked another team to replace them rather than Mark/Mallory (maybe Bill/Cathi - arguably the best older team). I would then pick four 3-timers (Jet/Cord, Margie/Luke, Charla/Mirna, Rob/Amber). I would then fill the remaining slots with winners because it would be nice to have the equivalent of a Sandra or Tony from Survivor (2-time winner) - either Rob/Brennan, Chip/Kim, Nat/Kat, Rachel/Dave (if still together), Ernie/Cindy or Nick/Starr. Some other good choices (if the teams above decline) would be Colin/Christie, Eric/Jeremy, Oswald/Danny, Joe/Bill, Dustin/Kandice, Kynt/Vyxsin, Zev/Justin or any winners. Also Brook/Claire and Tim/Marie but they declined and could have considered Amani/Marcus who also declined.
  

*************************************
General Thoughts

• This season didn’t have many boring sections but felt like an unsatisfying mess. The choice of returnees was frustrating and then you had 2 of the “underwhelming choices” be the top 2, Natalie/Nadiya going 1st was a huge loss, Mark/Mallory damaging the reputations was disappointing (but good TV), the 3-timers didn’t do much this time and then mixed with the poor route and challenges. The Accidental Alliance vs The Brenchels was a big storyline at the end and while that drama was “better than nothing”, it also came across as annoying (similar to Brandy vs Caite in TAR16). I like returnee seasons, and I believe this would rank lower if they were all new teams. For example I enjoyed watching John/Jessica, Margie/Luke and Flight Time/Big Easy because I knew their history, but would be boring if I didn’t know their backstories.
  
• The editing and storylines also seemed off. You had multiple teams together at the Spanish steps challenge and then a foot race to the pit stop yet it didn’t feel as tense as it should have been. They also had Brendan/Rachel almost missing a flight in leg 5 as well as a train in leg 6 and they both lacked suspense (editing is the issue). Also while I liked Brendan/Rachel this season, their storyline was all over the place. Rachel started as wanting to redeem herself with a few positive moments (not stressing, helping Luke) but then later became hated by every team and had some meltdowns. The redemption storyline was just dropped. The same thing with Dave/Connor who were meant to be super sweet but the editing made them annoying and self righteous. Even the Accidental Alliance drama seemed to be dropped at the end where Brendan/Rachel were interacting with the other teams like nothing happened. This is also the first season to cut the intro for several episodes. So mostly entertaining but some unsatisfying storylines and editing choices.
  
• Dave/Connor are 2 of the more unique winners, as opposed to the “dull” Jason/Amy and Bates/Anthony type winners. The first parent/child winners, the oldest individual to win, and had a great story of being medevaced the first time and returning to win. Some find them likeable, some find them annoying, but I prefer them to a team we don’t care about at all. I probably would have preferred a Leo/Jamal win or the craziness of a Brendan/Rachel win…but it was an okay result but not great.
  

*************************************
Route

• This season had a terrible route! No new countries (besides 1 task in Wales), only 3 continents, lots of double legs in 1 country (first 8 legs were 2 legs in China, 2 legs in Malaysia, 2 legs in Sri Lanka, 2 legs in Italy) and lots of simple city legs that look like post-Covid routes (Leg 2 for example looked like it only took teams less than 2 hours to complete and the pit stop was like 20 mins away from the previous one). Apparently a lot of legs were designed last minute which I understand. Besides the Family Edition, I think TAR21’s route was worse though because TAR24 had slightly more iconic sites (Canton Tower, Petronus Towers, Coliseum and Spanish steps, Mount Titlus, first visit to Wales, Las Vegas strip) and a bit of a variety with snow, rainforests, cities etc. Terrible starting line at that college - a starting line isn’t a huge deal but it does get you hyped when it’s at an epic location (like next season’s Times Square).
  
• A lot of the challenges were also very cheap looking and simple for an All Stars. Challenges like operating a remote controlled chariot and shaving a balloon look very underwhelming. Not many challenges stood out besides pouring the drinks/DJ Detour (a fantastic Detour) and remembering the Welsh poem. They should have just resorted to Switchbacks of classic destinations and challenges as that would suit an All Star season. And some odd choices in regards to predetermined flights (lots of sign-ups for flights rather than flight searching) and Dave/Connor’s 5-8 Road Block distribution didn’t make sense.
  
• This season basically had the same format as the last few seasons which I don’t mind. It brought back the twist where the winner of the Express Pass gives a 2nd one to another team. It was unique this season because for the first time a team gave away the Express Pass at a challenge and basically “burnt it”. Besides that, this season also had 2 Double U-Turns and Speed Bumps. No Fast Forwards which is a shame because I think it adds something slightly interesting to those episodes. Only the 3rd season to not have a Fast Forward.
  

*************************************
Cast Ranking
1.Brendan/Rachel - they carried this season! Rachel started out as not wanting to be her old emotional self and was a lot less whinier than TAR20 (although I preferred her meltdowns honestly haha). She had a “heroic” edit where she prayed rather than getting stressed out - also supported Luke at the cocktails challenge and helped Brendan get through the plate spinning. However they are also responsible for the biggest drama of the season - U-Turning Dave/Connor and the “We hate the Brenchels” storyline. Once again Rachel has most of the cast hating her…and I love it! Rachel then reverted back to her old crying self in the last 3 legs with meltdowns at the bulls, crying at the Wellington toss and picking fights in the finale. So still crazy, still got her sequins, fell over a few times haha, bizarre lines (saying “I want to win to get a baby” over and over haha) and provided the drama and laughs that this season needed.

1. Dave/Connor - the rivals of the Brenchels and made the next biggest impact! They seemed very sweet and relatable like at the disco “We’re just 2 Mormon boys from Salt Lake City” haha and I liked their sweet bond with Caroline/Jennifer where they let them step on the mat in front of them. But they also feel annoying and entitled. Dave mentioned his achilles A LOT, Dave complained about his age A LOT ("Yeah outrunning an old man", “U-Turning a 60 year old man” and “This is a young person’s game”), complained about Brenchels A LOT and they seemed very self righteous over the U-Turn. Their involvement in the Accidental Alliance came across as childish rather than noble, “That snotty woman! She’s scary looking!” So I'm not sure if they were meant to be likeable or not - they sort of sucked a lot of the fun out of the season honestly. But a decent redemption for them and they made a decent impact and got us talking.
   
2. Leo/Jamal - still fun and likeable with some sneaky moments but more toned down than last time. A few cheeky moments like “We love you Connor, we love you Connor” when he finished the sewing (hoping for help), but then “I’m kidding, I don’t” after they left. Strategic again like when they wanted to lie to Jet/Cord at one stage but didn’t because they wanted to avoid the U-Turn this time. Made the smart decision rather than the emotional one when U-Turning the threats Jet/Cord. Unfortunately finished in 4th place again.
   
3. Jet/Cord - the cowboys are “back in the saddle”! Another likeable team but I found Leo/Jamal more interesting. They were “threats” again, “We’re like butter, we’re on a roll” when coming in 1st haha and also worked alone again “We’re used to being the lone rangers”. I sort of liked how they didn’t join in on the Brenchel drama. Still find them a bit overrated but I know a lot of viewers enjoyed seeing them again.
   
4. Caroline/Jennifer - were the sweethearts and underdogs who weren’t great racers but slid by each week (and saved by 2 non-eliminations). I thought they were likeable enough, “Who would u-turn Dave/Connor, they’re the sweetest guys…and have great hair” haha Were proud of their flirting again and used it to get an Express Pass off Jet/Cord…and were helped multiple times by Leo/Jamal and Dave/Connor. You don’t need to be a strong “girl power” team…the underdogs who get through by flirting are just as interesting haha But weren’t that great TV honestly….like last time.
   
5. Mark/Mallory - a fascinating dynamic even though most fans didn’t like this hybrid. In a way it did damage the reputation of 2 fan favorites (Mark/Bopper and Gary/Mallory) because they were very negative to one another (Mark refusing to race without the backpack despite having everything he needed, and Mallory seemed uncaring and not taking responsibility) but I enjoyed their drama. I liked how Mallory joked about losing their passport on leg 1…and the foreshadowing. I prefer their messy dynamic rather than them just being nice and boring for 2 legs.
   
6. Natalie/Nadiya - screamed at eachother through the whole 1st episode and I loved every minute they were on screen “It’s in Asian, I can’t read it!” haha They were such a hot mess in their 1 episode and possibly my favourite first boots! This season would have been so much better if we saw them involved in the Brenchel drama later, and I would have loved to see some more crazy moments and seeing them get to visit Sri Lanka.
   
7. Margie/Luke - the last 4 didn’t really contribute much this season. These 2 are ahead because I always enjoy watching their dynamic with their sweet bond and occasional bickering (nothing bad, just normal healthy struggles). Luke’s sexuality was finally brought up (a nice scene where Luke explains his coming out to Margie) and I liked Margie saying that when Luke pulls her this time, he has to be gentler because she’s older haha Felt very likeable this time, like when they were reflecting on the train ride in Sri Lanka.
   
8. Flight Time/Big Easy - they were fine but didn’t do much this season. They had a nice moment dancing with the locals in Borneo, joking about the Beekmans winning with roller bags, and talking to their wooden donkey when they couldn’t work out what they did wrong. So ultimately a few more fun moments than the 2 ranked below them. Didn’t feel like they wanted to be there as much as previous seasons.
   
9. John/Jessica - didn’t do much this time. They were at the centre of lots of storylines in TAR22 but I think that was just “lucky circumstances” rather than them being big characters. They were just a generic nice couple here. It was nice though seeing Joey/Meghan and John/Jessica helping each other again like last time (and Brendan/Rachel having a random final 3 alliance with them haha). Their only moment here was them working with other teams thinking Caroline/Jennifer were behind them, and losing a footrace.
   
10. Joey/Meghan - Also didn’t do much and the only difference is John/Jessica made it further. Joey just played up to the cameras like last time (screeching “White is not my color” at the wedding dresses) but they were still likeable enough. Their only storyline was Meaghan helping John despite the 2 of them being in last place. So not the smartest move but nice that they still have that friendship.
    

*************************************
Leg Rankings
1.Leg 8 - Italy (F6 - Flight Time/Big Easy eliminated) - the most entertaining episode of the season! So much drama going on between all teams and great scenery. Brendan/Rachel U-Turning Dave/Connor…with Dave’s irrational hatred for the rest of the leg plus Brendan/Rachel disagreeing over who to U-Turn. Then Dave/Connor helping Leo/Jamal (despite U-Turning them too and calling it a “blessed u-turn” haha). Decent challenges - racing donkeys (teams falling off especially Rachel, and the donkey struggling with Big Easy haha), building a wooden donkey (teams not using the box as part of it, many switches) and writing the Ancient manuscript (dull but some teams still struggled and was made better with Dave not accepting an apology and later mocking Brendan/Rachel). Rachel was hilarious “They can’t get me in a place of worship” haha Also had Dave/Connor and Caroline/Jennifer working together (with Dave/Connor accidentally losing them just like Bates/Anthony did) and just a good mix of fun and drama! Not for everyone, but I liked it.

1. Leg 4 - Malaysia (F8 - Non elimination) - fantastic, especially the Kuala Lumpur section at the end. The beginning in Kota Kinabalu had the trampoline challenge which had Jessica struggling and injuring her foot and Rachel having to take off her pantyhose because she was slipping haha But Kuala Lumpur had the Petronus Towers and Batu Caves, a night leg plus a fantastic Detour (if you ignore that it was impossible for Luke to do the DJ routine). Pouring the cocktails and the DJ routine had lots of teams struggling with placement shifts from the flights (one of my favorite Detours). Luke has a meltdown and smashes the glasses (Margie yelling like a mother to pick them up haha) and Rachel of all people calms him down. 3 hours later Brendan/Rachel pray and have a very positive edit and music (and don’t accept Margie/Luke’s offer for both to take a penalty) and a great ending between these 2. Loved the music and close up of Rachel’s cross haha Would be the best leg of the season if the whole leg was in Kuala Lumpur.
   
2. Leg 2 - China (F10 - Mark/Mallory eliminated) - it looked like a cheap Covid leg but pretty exciting overall. Some great drama with Mallory forgetting Mark’s bag and arguing about going back for it, “People from Kentucky don’t act this way” and Mark being like “I don’t have much and I mean nothing to her”. A trainwreck but can’t stop watching! Jet/Cord walk for a long time and lose their 1st place lead and some okay navigation drama at the start. Building the toy car at “Chuck e Cheese on steroids” was fun - a little girl annoying Flight Time, Meghan helping her ally John (despite being last), and especially Caroline struggling and Jen managing to get the Express Pass off Jet/Cord, “I knew I’d get it off him” hehe. The featherball was also fun with all teams so close together, and Mark/Mallory just not working well together at all. No team chose the massage, and I don’t mind watching teams in pain haha but I prefer skill based challenges so I don’t mind. 7 teams then check in together at the pit stop together. Very fun and fast paced!
   
3. Leg 11 - England/Wales (F4 - Leo/Jamal eliminated) - was decent and felt competitive enough but not as top tier as past final 4’s - mediocre tasks for a final 4 elimination and not many storylines but not too dull. Soccer task was ok but nothing special, shooting the clay pigeons/tossing wellingtons was terrible (still felt tense though at the end…and I guess it made Rachel crack), but I really enjoyed remembering the Welsh poem on the aqueduct (good scenery, cultural and challenging). The costumes and castle looked nice - “we’re in Downton Abbey” and Rachel finally has a TAR20 type meltdown when she picks the wrong size shoe and cries like a child (the foreshadowing at the start when Rachel says “I’m proud that I haven’t freaked out yet”). Placement shifts, self driving, Rachel meltdowns are always a positive for me, and actually had a strange positive edit where the final 4 were getting along. So still enjoyable overall and a sad ending for Leo/Jamal. Just needed a few better challenges, especially the Detour at the end.
   
4. Leg 7 - Italy (F7 - John/Jessica eliminated) - a good enough leg but would rank higher if it had bigger moments or storylines. It had the Coliseum, many teams together at the final puzzle (Roman Numerals) which is always a plus (Flight Time hilariously having no clue how to do it, Rachel not helping teams, and Leo/Jamal strategically helping last place teams)…and a foot race for last with teams thinking Caroline/Jennifer were behind. However the challenges were embarrassingly bad - remote controlled chariots seemed so silly and out of place (feels very inauthentic to the Ancient Roman theme), the gladiator routine was silly, and counting the Spanish steps wasn’t that hard as long as a local could tell you the Roman Numerals. Finding the site of the “unhappy Roman holiday” had some difficulties, Rachel thinking the “eternal city” is Ethiopia for some reason haha and while the detours were silly, they had some funny struggles with Leo “I watched all 4 seasons of Spartacus”. And of course a very close finish!
   
5. Leg 9 - Switzerland (F5 - Non elimination) - challenges were okay and nice Swiss scenery…but very big on the “We hate Brenchels” drama! I don’t mind it but can understand why some may find it annoying this episode. The “Accidental Alliance” is created on the train with teams mocking Rachel’s “I want to race around the world with my best friend” haha. And celebrate getting to clueboxes before Brendan/Rachel, helping one another “their family” and also complaining about them A LOT! Cleaning the room was okay as an attention to detail task and Jet was like “Now my wife knows I can clean”, and Helga “Figure it out!” was a great judge! Working out that the object is a drillbit for a tunnel plus the Mustang Puzzle were nice simple tasks - Rachel thinking it’s a wheel haha and Dave/Connor giving their allies answers. Delivering the milk through the snow at the end was a bit dull besides Brendan writing “TAR24 WINNERS BRENCHEL” on the gondola haha So just an okay leg but depends whether you like the “We hate the Brenchels” storyline.
   
6. Leg 6 - Sri Lanka (F7 - Non elimination) - another “okay” leg. Started strong with the tuk tuk Road Block - Rachel was fantastic screaming “GREEN GREEN GREEN” but her colours being wrong (her ally John eventually helps her). Lots of fun chaos with everyone manhandling tuk tuks “I was booty bumping rickshaws out of the way” haha But then there’s a train equaliser and delivering logs with an elephant/make paper from elephant dung was boring (and arguably animal cruelty making the elephant do that). “You’re only as fast as your big fat elephant”. They’re okay cultural tasks but not that difficult or interesting besides a few bubbles when making the paper. Nothing much happens besides some foot races - Jet/Cord vs Leo/Jamal “It’s Indians vs. Cowboys! And the Indians are WINNING!” haha and also Dave whining that John/Jessica outrun him “Yeah beat the old man”. The tuk tuk segment was a highlight of this season and it’s unfortunate that there was an equaliser and that the 2nd half dragged.
   
7. Leg 10 - Spain (F5 - Jet/Cord eliminated) - felt like a bit of a cheap and underwhelming final 5 elimination leg with some really silly challenges - shaving a balloon and running with bull costumes. A bit of the Brenchel drama (Dave saying the U-Turn was “kind of inappropriate” when it really wasn’t haha and “Dave/Connor are the sweetest guys on the planet”). Leo/Jamal decide to U-Turn Jet/Cord instead of Brendan/Rachel…but not that interesting “There’s only room for two cowboys on this race and it’s Leo and Jamal! Yeehaw!” Haha Shaving the balloon was terrible, nothing much from the flamenco dance, delivering the hams was a boring and generic Speed Bump, and the bull costumes were silly but at least had some fun moments - Rachel was hilarious as always getting knocked around like crazy saying the bulls were ”bullies”, Dave complaining “I’m an old matador”, Jet/Cord missing parts of the phrase, plus Jamal’s knee injury. It wasn’t necessarily too boring which is why it isn’t ranked lower.
   
8. Leg 1 - China (F11 - Natalie/Nadiya eliminated) - was terribly designed! The challenges were finding the Chinese symbols on the band members (very quick and forgettable starting line task), finding wedding dresses (had an okay navigational element and the only decent task), the Canton Tower bubbles (luck based and terrible) and summersaults (terrible, impossible to fail, too tame of a height challenge for All Stars, Caroline “Flight Time looks like a sexy piece of spinning meat”). Natalie/Nadiya were fantastic entertainment and saved this episode from being terrible by yelling “YOU IDIOT” and “I TOLD YOU” over and over (and even argue over who is doing the Road Block). “Those are Chinese flags, not race flags you lunatic!” It also had Bopper’s medevac which was a dramatic start and it’s nice seeing all the returnees bantering with one another (Brenchel army at the airport and Natalie/Nadiya joking about Rachel’s crying). But not much content besides Twinnie craziness, Jet/Cord dominating, and teams struggling to find the wedding dresses.
   
9. Leg 12 - USA (F3 - Finale) - for a finale, let alone the All Stars finale, the challenges were too easy - digging for a chest (boring), David Copperfield routine (impossible to fail and only designed to show off David Copperfield), putting lightbulbs in the Mirage sign (not challenging and only designed to show off Las Vegas) and looking for the neon sign in the helicopteskydive (didn’t look that hard to find). Very unsatisfying. But it wasn’t too boring with some minor drama with Brendan/Rachel and Caroline/Jennifer having a fight at customs (not caught on camera so just explained through talking) and there’s some arguing while digging for the chest (throwing sand in each other’s holes). Plus Brendan screaming at a taxi “We’re in a race so we can have a baby” haha plus Brendan/Rachel lost in a hotel that Rachel once worked at. And to be fair, it was very close between Dave/Connor and Caroline/Jennifer - sprinting to the final clue and waiting to see who skydived first. And a night leg in Las Vegas was a great idea…just terribly designed!
   
10. Leg 5 - Sri Lanka (F8 - Margie/Luke eliminated) - unfortunately a dull leg because Margie/Luke were an obvious elimination. It did have some great airport scrambles which is always welcome in the modern era (Brendan/Rachel taking a risk on a short connection and Margie/Luke failing to get on standby). Sewing the t-shirt had potential to be a tough interesting challenge…but needed to have all teams together. Several teams struggled, teams worked together (Jessica and Brendan, as well as Connor helping a struggling Jennifer) and Big Easy really struggled “If I have to sew something I’ll just ask my fiancé or my mother…or just buy something new” haha and Flight Time just shows off his basketball skills. The fishing had to be one of the dullest challenges ever and balancing the plates wasn’t much better (although Rachel is the one telling Brendan to calm down here). Printing the t-shirts was also a boring Speed Bump. Margie/Luke are way behind and have a nice scene enjoying the Sri Lankan train ride, but not much excitement.
    
11. Leg 3 - Malaysia (F9 - Joey/Meghan eliminated) - was terribly designed - boring challenges (repelling down a waterfall, delivering goods, blowdart) and separating the flights by 3 hours just didn’t make sense as there was little drama for the top 6…and then 3 teams far behind. And flight scrambles are always better than sign-ups. The top 6 just went through three tasks robotically, and even the bottom 3 had little drama or stress. I guess there was a bit of a storyline about the Brenchel army being the bottom 3 and facing the fact one of the friends will go. But Joey/Meghan are obvious boots after struggling to find a taxi. The only interesting parts were the rafts falling apart in the rapids and Rachel repelling in her underwear so her sequins don’t get wet “God forbid she lose some sequins along the way” haha The promos really hyped up the dangerous rapids and they were fine for that short segment but no drama came from them in the episode.
    

*************************************
Summary
Not a great season but I feel gets unfair hate (just like the Family Edition which also had bad leg designs, bad route, drama that some found annoying). I don’t think it was terrible as most legs had things happening that made each one interesting enough. Everyone vs Brenchels was similar to Everyone vs Weavers (had some interesting aspects, better than nothing, but was a bit annoying at times). The cast, route and challenges were unsatisfying but entertainment is most important to me and this season was usually not boring. TAR8 and TAR24 had similar weaknesses/frustrations so I’m ranking them together. I enjoyed TAR24 slightly more but I could see TAR24 getting a 5 or less if it wasn’t a returnee season, as it had some similarities to TAR16 (many teams were compelling because of their history rather than things they did on this season).
*************************************
So after each season I will place it on a ranking:
1.TAR5 - 10/10

1. TAR3 - 10/10
   
2. TAR12 - 9/10
   
3. TAR17 - 9/10
   
4. TAR18 - 9/10
   
5. TAR2 - 8/10
   
6. TAR7 - 8/10
   
7. TAR20 - 8/10
   
8. TAR11 - 8/10
   
9. TAR13 - 8/10
   
10. TAR6 - 8/10
    
11. TAR10 - 7/10
    
12. TAR22 - 7/10
    
13. TAR14 - 7/10
    
14. TAR1 - 7/10
    
15. TAR9 - 7/10
    
16. TAR21 - 6/10
    
17. TAR15 - 6/10
    
18. TAR23 - 6/10
    
19. TAR4 - 6/10
    
20. TAR24 - 6/10
    
21. TAR8 - 6/10
    
22. TAR19 - 5/10
    
23. TAR16 - 5/10
    

*************************************