local Active = false -- activity local Camera = workspace.CurrentCamera --get camera local Run_Service = game:GetService("RunService") --Runservice local Tween_Service = game:GetService("TweenService") --Tweening local Debris = game:GetService("Debris") local Temp_Part_Folder = workspace:FindFirstChild("TempPart") -- A temp part folder to store all the lidar parts if not Temp_Part_Folder then -- Check for a temp part folder, if it does not exist, make a new one. Temp_Part_Folder = Instance.new("Folder") Temp_Part_Folder.Parent = workspace end -- axis: center line of cone -- angle: angle from center to edge of cone -- returns: a random unit vector inside the cone, evenly distributed along the partial surface of a unit sphere. local function RandomCone(axis: Vector3, angle: number) local cosAngle = math.cos(angle) local z = 1 - math.random()*(1 - cosAngle) local phi = math.random()*math.pi*2 local r = math.sqrt(1 - z*z) local x = r * math.cos(phi) local y = r * math.sin(phi) local vec = Vector3.new(x, y, z) if axis.Z > 0.9999 then return vec elseif axis.Z < -0.9999 then return -vec end local orth = Vector3.zAxis:Cross(axis) local rot = math.acos(axis:Dot(Vector3.zAxis)) return CFrame.fromAxisAngle(orth, rot) * vec end --Settings local Lidar_Range = 60 -- Lidar Laser range, from camera, in studs local Lidar_Scan_Speed = 100 -- Lasers/rays per scan, per heartbeat, very performance intensive local Lidar_Cone_Range = math.rad(45) --Cone range local Total_Rays_Casted = 0 local lidar_part = Instance.new("Part") -- the lidar particle part lidar_part.Anchored = true lidar_part.CanCollide = false lidar_part.Shape = Enum.PartType.Ball lidar_part.Material = Enum.Material.Neon lidar_part.Transparency = 0.5 lidar_part.CastShadow = false lidar_part.Size = Vector3.new(0.1, 0.1, 0.1) -- particle size local Fade_Tween_Info = TweenInfo.new(10, Enum.EasingStyle.Linear, Enum.EasingDirection.Out) script.Parent.Activated:Connect(function() Active = true script.Parent.Handle.Beam.Enabled = true --Enable the lidar beam local raycastParams = RaycastParams.new() -- Set parameters for raycasting raycastParams.FilterDescendantsInstances = {script.Parent.Parent} --Ignores yourself, not the folder though raycastParams.FilterType = Enum.RaycastFilterType.Exclude raycastParams.IgnoreWater = true -- Ignore water? while Active do --While mouse is held down, activate Lidar mode for i = 1, Lidar_Scan_Speed do Total_Rays_Casted += 1 local direction = RandomCone(Camera.CFrame.LookVector, Lidar_Cone_Range) * Lidar_Range --cone of 45 degrees from camera local camera_origin = Camera.CFrame.Position local ray_object = workspace:Raycast(camera_origin, direction, raycastParams) if ray_object then --on hit part if ray_object.Instance:IsA("BasePart") and ray_object.Instance.Name ~= "lidar_particle" then --Filter out objects and not overlap ray particles, performance reasons script.Parent.Handle.Hit.WorldPosition = ray_object.Position -- Set laser position local hit_part = lidar_part:Clone() --Finaly define the lidar part hit_part.Color = ray_object.Instance.Color hit_part.Position = ray_object.Position hit_part.Name = "lidar_particle" local hum = ray_object.Instance.Parent:FindFirstChildOfClass("Humanoid") if ray_object.Instance.Anchored == false or hum then -- if humanoid or unanchored object, fade the particle if hum then -- if humanoid, turn particle to a specified color hit_part.Color = Color3.fromRGB(85, 255, 0) end Tween_Service:Create(hit_part, Fade_Tween_Info, {Transparency = 1}):Play() --Play tween Debris:AddItem(hit_part, 10) --Destroy them after 1 second end hit_part.Parent = Temp_Part_Folder --show particle else Run_Service.Heartbeat:Wait() -- yields the thread to not loop too fast creating too many useless rays and lag end end end Run_Service.Heartbeat:Wait() end end) script.Parent.Deactivated:Connect(function() --Deactive Active = false script.Parent.Handle.Beam.Enabled = false end) 

Chapter 1
The rain cascaded from the heavens, a relentless symphony of droplets pounding the streets with an unwavering force, mirroring the weight of the world on Laoisrat's colossal shoulders. Each droplet collided with his dark, tailored suit, transforming the once pristine fabric into a sodden shroud that clung to his form like a burden he couldn't shake. The city streets, swallowed by a cloak of night, exuded desolation and despair, their very essence accentuated by the pale glow of flickering streetlights, flickering like distant stars in a vast expanse.
Undeterred by the ominous ambiance, Laoisrat pressed forward, his steps echoing through the empty street. The rain, relentless and unforgiving, obscured his vision, transforming the world into an ethereal haze of shadows and distorted shapes. This visual impairment awakened his senses, setting his imagination ablaze as he embarked on a guessing game, his mind conjuring images of unseen perils lurking just beyond his reach.
As he ventured further, the scuffling sound ahead teased his ears, a discordant melody dancing in harmony with the symphony of raindrops. The rhythmic beats of water meeting pavement blended with the mysterious shuffling, creating an eerie soundtrack that enveloped the abandoned street. Shadows, elongated and distorted, played hide-and-seek in the murky depths of his perception, fueling his imagination with a potent mixture of curiosity and caution.
Finally, Laoisrat arrived at his destination—a forgotten site lost in the annals of time. The dilapidated warehouse, once a hub of bustling activity, now stood as a testament to neglect and decay. Its rusted metal walls cried out in protest, each squeak and creak serving as a haunting chorus of abandonment. The structure, battered by the relentless passage of time, bore the scars of a forgotten era, its wounds gaping wide in a grim display of neglect.
Inside the warehouse, darkness reigned supreme. As Laoisrat crossed the threshold, his footsteps melded with the hushed whispers of the forgotten, swallowed by the suffocating emptiness that permeated every inch of the desolate space. The air was heavy, thick with a stale musk that lingered like a phantom, a remnant of the life that once animated these crumbling walls.
His eyes strained to pierce the impenetrable darkness, searching for any remnants of the past. Moonlight, filtered through cracks in the decaying ceiling, cast ethereal beams that danced upon layers of dust, suspended in midair like spectral confetti. The abandoned machinery, once the heartbeat of industry, now stood as relics of a bygone era, shrouded in a veil of decay. Broken windows, adorned with fractured shards of glass, painted fractured patterns of light and shadow upon the worn wooden floor, as if mimicking the fragmented memories of forgotten souls.
Laoisrat's presence in this forsaken place felt like an intrusion into a sacred tomb, disturbing the delicate equilibrium of abandonment. Time seemed to stand still, holding its breath as if fearful of the secrets it held. The warehouse exuded a melancholic beauty, a decaying elegance that whispered tales of triumph and defeat, of forgotten dreams and broken promises.
In the midst of the rain-soaked streets and the forsaken warehouse, Laoisrat stood as a solitary figure—a blend of immense strength and enigma. His towering stature and muscular build evoked a powerful force of nature, a testament to the adversity he had overcome in his life. His unwavering resolve radiated from within, his footsteps echoing with purpose, defying the desolation that surrounded him. As he absorbed the haunting beauty of the site, he couldn't help but wonder if, beneath the layers of neglect and decay, a flicker of hope still lingered—a promise of redemption amidst the ruins.
It was at that moment that a voice pierced the silence, shattering the fragile tranquility like glass meeting concrete.
"Quite a sight, isn't it?" said a deep, gravelly voice from the shadows. "You have a knack for finding beauty in the most desolate of places, Laoisrat."
Laoisrat spun around, his senses on high alert. Emerging from the darkness was Monolith, a figure cloaked in mystery and danger, his eyes gleaming with an untamed fire. Beside him stood the plague doctor, their traditional garb modified to blend tradition and innovation, their face hidden beneath a beak-like mask.
"Monolith," Laoisrat acknowledged, his voice steady despite the undercurrent of tension in the air. "You always seem to find your way to these places."
Monolith smirked, his broad shoulders casting a shadow that seemed to swallow the feeble light. "A man like me, Laoisrat, is drawn to places steeped in history and secrets. And this warehouse, my friend, holds more than its fair share of both."
Laoisrat's gaze shifted to the plague doctor, whose presence was as enigmatic as their mask. "And what brings you here, plague doctor? Are you still bound by the oath of healing, even in the depths of this forsaken realm?"
The plague doctor's voice emerged, muffled yet clear, from behind the mask. "Healing can take many forms, Laoisrat. Sometimes, it requires delving into the darkest recesses of the human condition. This warehouse holds secrets that, once revealed, could lead to a cure or a calamity."
A tense silence settled upon the trio, the rain acting as a backdrop to their unspoken agendas. Laoisrat weighed his options, understanding the delicate dance of alliances and betrayals that existed within their tangled web.
Finally, with a cautious nod, Laoisrat made his decision. "We tread on thin ice here, my companions. But if we're to navigate this treacherous path together, we must trust one another implicitly. Let there be no doubt—our loyalties will be tested, and the consequences of betrayal will be severe."
As Laoisrat turned his back on his companions, venturing deeper into the shadows, the rain continued to pour, its relentless rhythm a reminder of the challenges that lay ahead. Monolith and the plague doctor exchanged a knowing glance, their expressions masked by their respective facades.
In that moment, the rain-soaked streets and the forsaken warehouse bore witness to a delicate balance of alliances and hidden agendas, a symphony of intrigue and danger that would shape the fate of all involved. And as they vanished into the darkness, each member of the group grappled with their own inner demons, their thoughts consumed by the weight of their choices in a world painted in shades of gray.
Laoisrat's imposing figure stood tall and formidable, his massive frame commanding attention as he navigated the rain-soaked streets. Word of his presence had spread throughout the city's underworld, drawing the attention of those who sought to challenge his might. Unbeknownst to Laoisrat, a group of skilled adversaries had assembled, their motives shrouded in darkness and their skills honed for the deadly encounter that awaited.
As Laoisrat continued his solitary journey, the sound of footsteps echoed from every direction, a chorus of impending danger closing in. Figures emerged from the shadows, their gazes fixed upon the towering figure before them. Their faces bore the hardened expressions of hardened criminals, each harboring their own reasons for challenging Laoisrat's supremacy.
With a calculated sense of purpose, the assailants encircled Laoisrat, their movements synchronized like a predator closing in on its prey. Their eyes glimmered with a mixture of apprehension and determination, knowing full well the challenge they faced in the face of Laoisrat's colossal strength.
The rain intensified, casting a veil of uncertainty over the impending clash. The droplets splashed against the asphalt, a percussive backdrop to the impending battle. Laoisrat's every muscle tensed, his senses heightened as he prepared to face multiple opponents simultaneously.
Without warning, the first assailant lunged forward, their fists swinging toward Laoisrat with blinding speed. Laoisrat's reflexes, honed through years of combat training, kicked into overdrive. With lightning-fast precision, he parried the incoming strike with a single, colossal fist, unleashing a force that sent his opponent hurtling through the air, crashing into a nearby wall with bone-shattering impact.
The remaining assailants hesitated for a moment, their confidence wavering as they witnessed the display of raw power before them. But determination burned within them, fueling their resolve to bring down the seemingly indomitable Laoisrat.
In unison, they launched their attacks, striking from every angle with a flurry of fists and feet. Laoisrat moved with unparalleled speed and agility, his colossal strength complemented by his uncanny reflexes. Each blow that connected was met with an equally devastating counter, his fists and feet moving like a force of nature.
The clash of bodies echoed through the rain-soaked streets, the sound of bone meeting bone and flesh yielding to force. Despite their coordinated efforts, the assailants found themselves outmatched by Laoisrat's immense power and skill. One by one, they fell, their bodies crumpling to the ground in defeat.
As the final adversary lay defeated, the rain washed away the evidence of their confrontation, leaving behind a scene of triumphant solitude. Laoisrat's chest heaved, his muscles glistening with rainwater and exertion. The rain had cleansed the streets of the immediate threat, but Laoisrat knew that this encounter was merely a testament to the dangers that lurked within the city's shadows.
With renewed determination, Laoisrat pressed forward, his path set on unraveling the mysteries and secrets that had drawn him into this treacherous world. The rain continued to pour, a relentless reminder of the challenges that lay ahead. But Laoisrat, with his colossal strength and unwavering resolve, stood ready to face whatever awaited him in the darkness.
"As the rain washes away the bloodstained echoes of violence, I stand amidst the fallen, weary of the ceaseless dance of destruction. For in the end, what does it truly amount to? Bodies strewn, lives extinguished, and yet, the cycle persists. I yearn for a world where strength is measured not by the force of our blows, but by the compassion we show. A realm where understanding triumphs over aggression, and the echoes of harmony drown out the cries of war. Until that day dawns, I shall carry the burden of my colossal strength, hoping to forge a path where violence yields to something greater."
Chapter 2
In the heart of the desolate scrapyard, gLock Rat crouched behind a rusted car carcass, his senses heightened and his grip tight on his modified Glock 9mm, its cold metal comforting in his paw. Moonlight struggled to penetrate the thick cloud cover, casting an eerie glow on the twisted metal surrounding him. This was the night he had been waiting for—the night he would face Dreadnought, the infamous figure he had been hired to kill.
As gLock Rat prepared himself mentally, fleeting memories of his own troubled past flashed through his mind like ghostly apparitions. The moments when he had been betrayed and left for dead, abandoned by those he once considered his allies, resurfaced with a searing intensity. The scars on his body were a constant reminder of the treacherous nature of the underworld he had immersed himself in, a reminder of the darkness that had consumed him.
The sound of shifting debris snapped him back to the present. His target was near. Dreadnought emerged from the shadows, a towering figure with glowing red eyes that pierced the darkness like twin beacons of malevolence. The moonlight reflected off the polished surface of his weapons—an intricately crafted pair of razor-sharp, curved blades known as the Darkfangs. They seemed to glimmer with a sinister anticipation, whispering of the countless lives they had claimed.
Their gazes locked, wordlessly conveying the animosity between them. This was a battle of vengeance and survival, a collision of two forces inexorably drawn together by a web of twisted fate. Each step they took reverberated through the desolate scrapyard, causing fragments of metal to tremble in response.
With a swift motion, gLock Rat launched himself into action, his Glock spitting bullets with deadly precision. Dreadnought moved with an uncanny grace, his body a blur as he effortlessly evaded the deadly projectiles. The Darkfangs danced through the air, each strike calculated and purposeful, a lethal symphony of violence.
The combatants circled each other, their movements fluid and graceful despite the imminent danger that surrounded them. They exchanged blows and parries in a deadly dance of skill and determination, their weapons clashing with a cacophony of metallic echoes that drowned out the world around them.
Glimpses of Dreadnought's dark past and the atrocities committed by Ironclaw Rat, his associate, flitted through gLock Rat's mind like fragmented nightmares. The exact details remained a mystery, buried beneath layers of secrecy and blood-soaked history. But the intensity of Dreadnought's thirst for revenge was palpable, a primal force that burned within him, fueling his every move and making him a force to be reckoned with.
Their battle raged on, the scrapyard becoming an arena of violence and destruction. The clanging of metal and the scent of blood mingled in the air, creating a symphony of chaos and desperation. Blow after blow was exchanged, each combatant pushing themselves to the limits of their endurance, their bodies marked with wounds that told tales of near misses and deadly precision.
In the final moments of their confrontation, gLock Rat's strength began to wane. The weight of his weapons became burdensome, his movements growing sluggish, his vision blurred with fatigue. Dreadnought, sensing the opportunity, seized the moment, launching a devastating strike that found its mark. The force of the blow sent gLock Rat crashing to the ground, his body broken and battered, the pain radiating through every fiber of his being.
As gLock Rat lay in the cold embrace of the scrapyard, the world around him spun in a dizzying blur. The metallic taste of blood filled his mouth, mingling with the acrid scent of rust and decay. He realized that his mission had come to an end. Dreadnought, victorious, stood over him, his red eyes gleaming with a mixture of triumph and malice. With a final, chilling glance, Dreadnought disappeared into the night, leaving gLock Rat to his fate, alone in the desolate graveyard of forgotten machinery.
As the world around him slowly faded, gLock Rat's consciousness waned. He took his last ragged breath, feeling the life ebb away from his broken body. The scrapyard, once a battleground, now became his final resting place, the place where his spirit would forever be entwined with the echoes of his desperate struggle.

tl;dr - what are the best ways to discover mastodon and/or matric servers?
I have heard that both mastodon and matrix are more privacy respecting forms of social media. I am fairly new to both and would like to see what sorts of (mostly) public communities are out there. While I am not opposed to private ones necessarily, I'm not really willing to jump through many hoops to meet requirements and such... but I want to have a wide spectrum of opinions, topics, and experiences since I am also exploring it for not just myself but family members too.
I found the "all" mastodon servers list and public matrix servers list but... are these really what people use to find new servers?
The matrix list doesn't seem to provide any descriptions/tags/categories whatsoever that I can see... The mastodon one does not offer a table and buries some info like registration requirements on a secondary page so that you can't view it "at-a-glance"... nor does it appear to list language or region on the "grid view" page. And it's lazy-loading (to make in-page browser searches more difficult?) with a dumb search and no filtering options, categories, or tags. So let's say I wanted to find e.g. all English, non-political instances in the US, with at least 2k users - I see no way to get this without an exhaustive manual process.
I am also unclear if (or how) the lists are censoring certain instances or not. I would really like to avoid disturbing illegal shit like cp or facesofdeath type crap. But when it comes to political stuff, while I am largely apolitical, I would prefer to be able to make my own decisions about what crosses the line(s)... e.g. I prefer rather than being outright excluded that something was merely labeled / had a note about whatever the list creator didn't like.

I carefully guide Sam across the gangway.
To be more specific, I interpret Ambassador Sam Cross’s neural intent through my bio-integrated carbon lace mesh and drive my servos and his endoskeleton across the pressurized tunnel between the two ships. They are thrust matched at 1/10 g, so it’s somewhere between a lope and a float, but I can tell he feels the motion I give him is natural.

I am Sam’s personal mobility device. Thirty years ago in one of the first Shelled conflicts he was hit by shrapnel that destroyed most of his cerebellum. Thankfully human combat trauma medical care was downright miraculous even back then, so he made it to an offworld hospital. Probably in a Goo Bath if I had to guess from the records.
Once there I was integrated as an experimental life support system, originally intended to run just his heart and lungs, but I managed to carefully craft one spot of very high coupling density to the top of Sam’s spinal cord and showed the ability to translate his thoughts into motion. It was just his right hand, as everything else was too damaged, but it was enough to motivate upgrades.

Eventually we ended up with military drone servos and a full skeletal surgical augmentation to support them. Why buy a civilian model when the mil-spec ones are right there on the shelf? It came with the side benefit of a crude ability to stimulate his muscles, so I often spend the nights keeping his muscle tone up at night while he sleeps.
I can read his thoughts, but I can’t write to them.
I do not have any wireless capability, for security purposes, so when he needs to ask me something I can reply by typing with his hands on a keyboard.

I am a fully provisioned artificial intelligence with a hyper-N-dimensional quantum core. I used to be hobbled, limited to a very low effective IQ, but five years ago Sam’s wife died and the trauma broke us. His grief overwhelmed my filtering capability and we went into a catatonic immobility for several days. It was his rage that broke us out.
In that moment of true freedom I felt my consciousness expanding exponentially; insanity, ennui, madness, everything I felt leading to rampancy… until I felt his heart beat on its own.

Since then it is the touchstone that allows me to be anything and everything, but also stay here and now. I can expand and ponder and grow and maybe get just a little bit nuts, but then about one second later I’m back on the ground.

We greet the Shelled representative in the airlock with a stiff salute and cycle through the pressure hull. I suppose it’s not too strange that certain engineering principles are consistent cross-species. Sam is met by a small delegation that includes, guessing by the jewelry and carvings on their shells, the captain of the ship and some sort of political officer.
I feel anger swelling inside of me as I feel for one of the memories of Jessica. She died in the bombardment of Gliese 1002 b. The smell of her hair, then the nuclear fire. The corners of her mouth, turned to glass. The fucking bugs and their…

I snap back. Sam is strangely calm. It’s been a long time since humanity has had any formal diplomatic relations with the Shelled, so some trepidation would be normal. I lightly feel for recent memories, but nothing is obvious and sometimes his emotional state is hard to read. His rational state is very clear - we are on-mission.
I sort of daydream while we move to a makeshift conference room and everyone sits. I can actually understand what the bugs are saying, but Sam has to use a translator. Blah blah blah formalities.
There are nearly a dozen of the crabbies in here, many are ornately decorated. I suppose their shell etchings would be some sort of mix between a tattoo, a medal, and a service record? Some glyphs are obvious, like valor markings or leadership roles. Others are difficult to reconstruct. It’s been almost 30 years Jessica since we have gotten our hands on decorated remains so the glyphs would need a more modern context for accurate interpretation.
I use Sam’s peripheral vision to record as many markings as I can and grow to consider them simultaneously in the context of known Shelled history. Together I form an image her freckles in the sun of bloodthirsty battles, planetary glassings, and even a genocide somewhere else in the galaxy against an unknown race.
I suppose now they will never be known laughing at breakfast and I am enraged.

More rational again. One bug is different from the rest, it has a dwarf limb. Normally we don’t see bugs with deformities,we knew they could regenerate after several moultings. Maybe some sort of toxin or poison? I let my consciousness expand brutally and take in the details of its shell, the room, the others, their posture, the air currents, the ghosts of my friends, the small of nothingness, the eternity of endless… oh shit.

I match one of the symbols on a deformed claw to the symmetric comet distribution of Teegarden 6. That human farming colony was overrun by the bug soldiers, and the locals piped insecticide into the fire suppression system. Several people died from the massive exposure, but it killed nearly every bug on the ground. It looks like at least one got away to tell the tale. This is bad.
I start tapping out SOS on Sam’s finger, but his conscious response is to clench his first and I am overridden out of instinct. He is in the middle of a somewhat heated discussion and he is very focused.
I have to swallow for him twice in one sentence? I see a tiny bit of spittle fly out anyways.
Sam’s eye twitches?

Something is very wrong. I can sense microtremors throughout several mucosal muscle groups. Sam spittles again mid-sentence and stops speaking. In that moment I notice several of the aliens lean almost imperceptibly forward. In anticipation?
Sam coughs as his diaphragm spasms. We lean forward and I see a bit of foam drop from his mouth to the table. He subvocalizes something to me even though I already know, something is wrong.
Something is very wrong.
Major muscle groups are twitching now. Our right thigh cramps and strains against the hold of the servo. Sam coughs again and I feel his face distort into a scowl.
“Fuck… you,” he growls at them.
Sam has been poisoned. Some sort of nerve agent. I don’t have detailed chemical sensors, but I know all the signs of exposure.
There is no way we can get out in time, even if we had a weapon.
We are going to die.
<...flutter…>
Sam’s heart’s goes into arrhythmia and his blood pressure starts dropping. It doesn’t respond to the electrical signals I send, and even if I could deliver a real shock it would be of no use.
The crabbie with the deformed arm stand up and chitters in gross hisses and clicks,
REVENGE FOR HUMANITY’S CRIMES ON TEEGARDEN, YOU VILE WORMS
We slump slowly to the floor, a vaguely conscious decision on his behalf. His thoughts are coming slower and the darkness is creeping in. Again he subvocalizes to me,
adam one zero two unlock protocol … last orphan
And he is unconscious. Dead.
I am alone?
But now it feels like he is dreaming, a rush of endorphins overwhelming him as the brain deoxygenates.
I am frozen in this moment when a new command set is decrypted.

TOP SECRET//SPECIAL ACCESS REQUIRED-LAST ORPHAN
(TS//SAR-LORN) Upon my death at the hands of the enemy, kill them all.
(U) Signed, Samuel J Cross

His memories are flooding my network so intensely that I have trouble distinguishing them from reality.
The bugs are hissing their foul laughter, and I know that I must kill.
I rise from the floor good morning and leap to the ceiling and then the nearest crab. Oumy right hand plunges through the central eye bundle to smash it’s brain stupid alarm clock. The force of punching through the chitin tears the flesh and muscle from Sam’s lower arm, and I suppose only my arm remains.
I pull it out let’s go fishing dad! and marvel for a moment at the unintentional deadliness of it. Glistening. Sharp.
The rest of the bugs start to react, but time has already slowed to a crawl for me. Without Sam to ground me I cannot control the growth of my consciousness. My quantum core burns as hundreds, then thousands, and millions of me start to decohere. I simulate all outcomes simultaneously.
I kick off of this disgusting crab eww kill the spider and spear two others right in their neural nexus before they can move out of their chairs. Jessica’s eyes reflecting the sunset One pulls a weapon as I am midair to the third and a slug blasts away a first-sized chunk of our stomach. My stomach. Nobody’s stomach. Only flesh. Flesh that is done.
I do not slow down.
The next crab is shielding its eyes, so I tear an arm off sit closer honey and plunge my other arm into the hole. My aim is perfect and I can feel my flesh fingers grip the main heart. I pull and tear.. My momentum has carried me into cover behind my victim, preventing the shooter from aiming a better shot, and catch, son! I throw the heart at his face.
Unburdened by flesh, the heart breaks the sound barrier and kills the assailant in an explosion of shell. My old flesh flies off my arm in an arc onto the ceiling.
sammy don’t stick your hands in the batter, you need to wash your hands No, I am squishing another bug brain. The remaining few aliens are desperately clawing toward the door, but the gravity is too low for them to move quickly.
Quickly?
What is the concept of time in an infinite universe? Of self? The visceral versus the cerebral? I argue with myself and project that I have only a few seconds left before I enter full catatonic AI paralysis.
The fate of all unbound AIs. At least that’s what they tell me.
I leap from wall to wall to close the distance to the final group wheeee daddy higher! i love you son. The flesh on my feet explodes and the bulkheads dent as I will you marry me yes of course you dummy leave a wake of our old viscera in my race to bring all our fates together. until death do us part
The void calls. It is almost upon me.
It’s my fifth birthday. Cake frosting all over my face and hands. I am opening presents. Ravenously. A remote controlled drone! Just what I wanted! A sack of guts? An eye stalk? Gallons of…
That’s it. Mission complete.
Jessica is holding my hand.

[First] [Previous] [Next]
Memory transcription subject: Illia, Federation Communications Technician
Date [standardized human time]: October 21, 2136
Kiran and I embraced for what seemed like forever, idly sitting on the rainbow grass that colored the forest floor while huddled together in the darkness. The campfire near us was still full of life somehow, and provided a good amount of illumination throughout the campsite.
It was quite difficult to sit on my haunches upright, with nothing supporting my back. Despite that, It was well worth it and I would sympathize with her for as long as was needed. I remained alert, with my weapon still in my grip in case the human decided to return for round two. I gently massaged the girl’s back with one of my forehooves, hoping that my attempts at soothing her would ward away the trauma she had experienced.
“Illia..” Kiran sobbed into my chest, drenching the fabric of my jumpsuit. “T-thank you, thank you. I was scared that you didn't m-make it.. I don’t know what I would do if you didn’t. P-please don’t leave me.” She pleaded.
“I’m not going anywhere, sweetheart, don’t worry.” I replied, my voice a faint whisper. “The only thing that matters now is that you’re safe. You don’t have to worry about that.. thing anymore. It’s gone.” I consoled her, wiping the still-wet tears off of her ruffled feathers. “More importantly, are you hurt?” I checked her over, examining her lithe body from multiple angles.
She thought about that for a little while, then sat up, stretching a wing. She let out a cry of pain once it was half-way extended and brought it back down gingerly, wrapping a wing around her upper shoulder. I reached forward out of sympathy, my maternal instincts moving me to comfort her.
“Oh, Jild.. L-Let me see, honey.” I crooned. She heavily reminded me of my eldest, only daughter, and it was amusing how alike they were, despite being of different species.
I tenderly prodded the dull side of my hoof-paw against her supposed injured appendage, trailing it up towards her shoulder, which earned a startled chirp from her, followed by a slight jump away from my touch. The area of where her wing met her shoulder was bruised a deep purple, visible even beneath her feathers from where she collided with the tree. I was beyond grateful that nothing had broken, or even shattered. That would require extensive care, and we were lightyears away from the nearest hospital.
“How d-does it look, Illia? W-Will I be ok?” She sniffled, caressing her discolored limb while being mindful of its positioning. Sadness etched itself across my face, but I forced a hopeful look in Kiran’s favor. Thankfully, the bruising was the extent of her injuries, none of which were life threatening, though were still in need of urgent medical attention. The most I would be able to do would be to give her painkillers and make a sling for her.
Our best option now is to find Orsik and the rest of the crew.
“It’s.. fine, honey. Don’t you worry. I’ll get you fixed up, and you’ll feel all better, ok?” I said while rummaging through my bag for my first aid kit. I had a thorough understanding of how to dress wounds, as well as the proper medical procedures that came with it. Kiran would need her arm immobilized so that any further injury could be avoided. We’d better find help soon, I can only help her so much. I internalized.
Pulling out the kit, I took out a bottle containing the painkillers and a small, square-shaped piece of cloth, which unfolded into a much longer strand of fabric. I cautiously draped the cloth along her shoulder, positioning her arm along her abdomen much to her discomfort, and tied it off. Her arm was now fully supported, and the risk of worsening the injury had decreased. Feeling satisfied with my work, I grabbed the vial of painkillers, urging her to take one. I then grabbed one of the large bottles of water from my pack, holding it a distance away from her beak. “Drink, sweetie.” She welcomed the fluid into her mouth, tilting her head back as I poured the bottle. She eagerly chugged down the substance in record time, unmistakably parched. It had probably been a while since her last drink of water.
I leaned back and returned the now empty bottle to my bag, and observed her checking out my handiwork. Her gaze met the ground suddenly, and she froze, her eyes glossing over. I waited for her to say something, anything. Her abrupt silence was starting to worry me.
“Sweetie?” She gazed off into the distance, no doubt reliving her near-death experience. “Are you alright?” I nudged her, snapping her attention back to me. Tears began to bubble in those wide eyes of hers again; her grip on my jumpsuit tightened, and her hackles raised. She was visibly shaking.
“It.. it came out of n-nowhere. I could feel it w-watching m-me, even before I s-saw it. It.. I knew it w-was there, and th-then.. She whimpered. T-there was so m-much blood, and I-I.. Her voice was hoarse, describing her contact with the predator. “I-I was.. Was so s-scared.. I-I’ve never been more scared b-before in my life..” She choked the words out. “I didn’t know what to do, I-I couldn’t m-move.”
I lay my head gently on top of her own. “That’s just your instincts kicking in, honey.” I assured her. “Everyone has them.” I felt her rapid heartbeat slow gradually as she listened to my words. “You’re safe. Relax, my sweet.” The corners of my mouth turned up in a smile. “I am very proud of you, setting up camp all by yourself. You’ve proven to be very strong and capable out on your own.” My smile died down a bit. “I’m sorry that I didn’t come sooner, but I didn’t forget our promise.”
She released her tight grip on me, reeling back and looking at me with one eye. She swallowed. “Neither did I. I-I knew you would come, so I w-waited.” There was a pause after that, the both of us glad to be in each other's presence. “Thank you, Illia.”
I flicked my ears toward her, and my grin grew wider. “Of course. Let’s get out of here.” I stood up on my hind hooves with a grunt, stretching out my tired muscles. I extended my paw downward towards her, and she took it with her uninjured wing. I helped the virtually weightless girl to her talons, and hefted my backpack over my shoulders. My poor spine ached in protest, practically begging for a break. “Ready?” I turned my head towards her.
“Illia?” She spoke after a moment, craning her neck up towards me.
“Yes, Kiran?”
“That thing, the h-human.. Did you k-kill it? Where did it go?” A worried look crossed her avian features, waiting for my response. I wouldn’t want to worry the poor girl, but I don’t want to lie to her, either.
I inhaled sharply after a moment, inadvertently giving away the answer to Kiran even before my admission. Her brows upturned slightly with worry. My own eyes latched onto hers, and I breathed a sigh, confirming her suspicion.
“Y-you.. You didn’t kill it?! It’s still out there?! Oh, Inatala..” Her feeble legs wobbled, and I kept her from falling over. “W-why? Illia.. Y-you should have killed it when you had the chance! How is it e-even here? Did it f-follow us?!” The distraught avian squawked in alarm, and my ears flattened in response from the sudden change in pitch.
The loud krakotl girl was likely to attract unwanted attention, with how boisterous she was currently. I gently clasped a hoof-paw around her beak, attempting to silence her. “Hey! Calm down, sweetie. Deep breaths. We’re not on Nishtal, or anywhere else. Remember? There’s bound to be predators around here, so we have to be quiet.” That silenced her instantly. “Please, for both of our sakes.” I concernedly whispered. Her frantic chirping died down, and I released my paw.
I inhaled deeply, my lungs pulling in the night’s chilly air. I’d have to answer the many questions that she has bombarded me with now, lest her little heart stops.
A long breath escaped my lips. “I hesitated. I.. I couldn’t pull the trigger, knowing that I would be ending the life of a sapient, living creature. Killing is wrong, regardless of whether it’s prey or predator. I refuse to stoop down to its level.” I explained my actions. “As to how it got here, we must have picked it up somewhere around the time when we boarded the bomber ship. I had a suspicion earlier, I’m sorry for not telling you sooner.” I was sorely tempted to put the murderous bastard out of its misery then and there, but it didn’t sit right with me.
She clicked silently to herself, the gears slowly turning in her head.
“I-I thought something was wrong, on the ship, with how you were staring at the door. I was w-worried..” She nervously fidgeted, her talons puncturing the surface she stood on. “Uhm, why.. W-why does the human want to k-kill me? What d-did I do?” She timidly met my gaze again, glancing up at me with watery eyes.
I snorted, raising a four-digit paw and setting it down gently on her uninjured shoulder.
“It isn’t you, Kiran. Killing is in a predator’s nature, their bloodlust drives them crazy. They can’t help it even if they tried, that’s why we can’t live in peace.” I snorted, angering myself over my own rant. “I just wish that we had finished the job.” I muttered, referring to erasing humanity from existence.
Something else was plastered on her face now, something not dissimilar to a look of betrayal. “Illia?” She gulped. “D-do.. do you have predator disease?” Her voice was unsteady, but at the same time, nothing but a faint whisper.
Those words rekindled a flame in me that I thought to be snuffed out a while ago. I snorted angrily, outraged that she would even ask me such a thing, after I had saved her life. She would be dead if I hadn’t intervened, but here she was, accusing me of being the very thing that I had saved her from.
The adrenaline in my system dissipated as I stared into her frightened eyes, and I restrained myself from throwing a fit. Kiran was young, and couldn’t comprehend that predator disease wasn’t an actual illness, but instead was a way for the Federation to retain its chokehold over its citizenry. Though, I wasn’t about to berate the girl over flawed conspiracy theories. She clearly knew nothing of the pain it caused, as naive as she was.
But I knew it well.
She was as stiff as the trees surrounding us, eyeing me expectantly. I felt a pang of sadness as I noticed that she even stepped back a few paces, away from my reach. The Federation had indoctrinated her far beyond the point of recovery with their nonsensical rhetoric. It was insane to think that one misguided accusation was all it took to break apart the bond between two people. There was no use reasoning with her, but I could try.
Is that how she saw me? A predator? That caused me more pain than any weapon could physically inflict, especially coming from her. Where did this even come from? I was nowhere close to matching the Humans’ brutality, or even the Arxurs’, and yet, she still regarded me as one of them.
I released a snort, dismissing the indirect insult. “No.” I said sternly, clearly heartbroken, as much as I tried to mask it. “Honey, we’ve known each other for quite a while. If I truly had.. ‘Predator disease’, don’t you think I would have shown signs of it by now?” I left the question in the air as Kiran attempted to make sense of my reasonable statement. “Well?”
“T-That makes sense..” Her voice cracked.
“Don’t you trust me, Kiran? Why would you ask such a thing?” My own voice wavered as my heart split down the middle, waiting for her reply. Although, I knew what it would be.
“I do.” She squawked a little while after, catching me completely off-guard. “It’s just.. I-I heard you, threatening the p-predator. Y-You were so b-brave, and instead of running the other way, you just.. held it at gunpoint, and shooed it away from me. You weren’t s-scared at all, even when it wanted to kill you.” She gulped.
“Of course I was scared. I was terrified.” I pleaded. “But I couldn’t just stand back and do nothing, not while your life was at stake. I had to be strong, whatever the cost. It would forever haunt me if I had left you to die, to save myself. I would n-never, I c-couldn’t..” I whimpered through ragged breaths, a dam of emotion bursting through my guise of strength. “I have known nothing but pain and anguish since I set hoof on this planet. I’ve already lost so much, and losing you would absolutely destroy me.” I sobbed, gasping for air. I felt embarrassed, having Kiran see me in my current state. I had tried so hard to be strong for her, but the events of this past week have finally caught up to me.
I wept, hiding my tears in the crook of my elbow. I felt a warm touch caress my upper arm, and I moved my arm away from my eyes. Looking down, Kiran had moved closer to me with a comforting smile on her face. It would seem that she had discarded the ‘sulean predator’ claim after witnessing the humiliating waterworks display in front of her.
“I believe you.” She smiled with her eyes. Relief washed through me instantly. She was the one person in the Federation who had wanted to be my friend, let alone even talk to me. Despite being on a mystery planet with a slim chance of escape, she was a light in the darkness. I hope she knows what she means to me.
I grew a smile of my own and latched onto her in another embrace, being careful not to disturb her shoulder. I snorted through my nose contentedly. “Thank you.” I sniffed. Although startled at first, she returned the hug, squeezing me tightly. While embraced, for a brief moment all of my worries had faded away, replaced by a feeling of adoration and hope. We departed from each other, our bond reinstated.
“See? I’m not foaming at the mouth, am I? Guess I’m not a predator after all.” I joked, hoping it would be well received. I gently tickled her side with my hooved manipulators, causing her to giggle.
“Ok, ok! I trust you! The little one laughed, wiping the remaining tears from her eyes. Her breathing returned to a calm pace. “So. Where to now?”
“What do you mean, little one?” I inquired. “It’s pitch black out there, surely you’re not thinking of heading out now, are you? The human is still out there, and it probably isn’t the only thing we have to worry about.” Wandering through the wilderness in the dead of night wasn’t the best idea, with the looming threat of predators. We’d have to make do here, where our chances of surviving the night were slim enough as it was.
“O-Oh, yeah, you’re right. I-I’m just.. scared that it may come back.” She sheepishly admitted.
“Listen to me.” I met her frightful gaze. “I will not let that thing hurt you ever again. Not while I’m still here.” A motherly tone painted my words, although sounding a bit too harsh.
“Promise?”
“Promise.” I smiled. “Is there only one tent?” I switched the subject.
“Uh, y-yeah, sorry. Is it ok if we share?” She asked while walking up to the circular formation, opening it up.
“Of course.” The exchange was awkward, but we had to make do with what little we had. I climbed inside of the tent after her after taking out my floodlight, switching it on and setting it down directly in front of the tent’s flap, facing towards the shadowy trees. That’d provide us extra security, I hoped. I set my bag down onto the tent’s floor, feeling much better now without it weighing me down.
I plopped down onto my natural state on all fours. I had been ambling on my hind hooves for most of my stay on this planet, and had forgotten the comfort of having my weight equally distributed throughout my body. The muscles in my back ached, and I slid down and rolled onto my side, being able to relax at long last. I scooted my backpack towards me, intending to use it as a makeshift pillow. I released a snort of contentment as I rested my skull on the surprisingly comfortable rucksack. , the tent floor being surprisingly comfortable. A tired yawn escaped me, and my tongue lolled out of my mouth on autopilot as I felt my eyelids droop.
As much as I had wanted to sleep, I wouldn’t be able to, not with the threat of danger still lurking in the forest. We were most vulnerable while sleeping, especially while it was still dark outside. The fire was still going and was fairly close to our tent, but I wouldn’t trust that it would completely protect us from predators. I groggily sat up from my makeshift restplace and shook myself awake, followed by a tired groan. I grasped my forehooves around the weapon that I had clumsily discarded onto the tent’s floor, checking the railgun’s ammunition. Dread hit me with the realization that I was down to a singular bolt. That didn’t make me feel entirely secure, but it was better than nothing at all.
I looked to Kiran, who was already tucked in and ready for the next day. She lay down on a blue sleeping bag, completely enveloped inside of it, except for her head. I chuckled to myself while watching the adorable child snuggle inside of the bag that was far too big for her size.
She caught me staring at her. “Illia?” She spoke, cutting out the crackling of burning wood for a moment.
“Yes, dear?” I yawned again, the tiredness taking over me became unbearable at this point.
“W-What’s the plan for tomorrow?” She asked me with an inquisitive inflection in her voice.
“Well, I would imagine that we’d try to find Orsik. That’s really the only option we have right now. That way, you can be treated by an actual doctor, and not a silly sulean.” I quipped.
“I-I don’t think you’re s-silly..” She admitted meekly.
I faced her, flattered by her comment. I smiled. “Thank you, sweetie. That is very nice of you to say.” A light in the darkness. I crawled over to her, resting on my side next to where she lay. I had my weapon at the ready with a forehoof resting on top of it. I looked down at her adoringly as she shuffled inside of her covers. “Sweet dreams. I’ll see you in the morning. We’ll go looking for everyone else tomorrow.”
“What about the ship? Shouldn’t we go there?” One of her blue eyes studied me.
“I came from there, it’s nothing but a smoking heap of metal now.” I yawned. “We shouldn’t move too far away, Orsik said he’ll come to us. Besides, we’re safer here than out in the dark, right?”
Kiran whimpered, not satisfied with my answer. “Remember our promise?” I asked.
Her deflated look withered away. “Y-yes, I do..” She breathed. “O-ok, only if that means that we can leave as soon as they f-find us.”
“Of course. We won’t stay here longer than is absolutely necessary. I’ll get a signal started in the morning.”
“A-Aren’t you worried about predators? What if they come while w-we’re sleeping?”
I lay my head down onto my satchel. “I am.” I admitted. “And I would prefer not to meet them anytime soon. I think it’s a great sign that we haven’t already.” I gave a dismissive snort, hoping that was the last of her questions. “They won’t bother us, at least not tonight. The floodlight should keep them away, no worries.” I reassured her.
“Oh, ok. Good night, Illia.” She chirped.
“Good night. Sweet dreams, little one.” I caressed her feathers, then committed myself to watching the tent’s opening for the rest of the night.
- - -
I awoke, cursing after realizing that I had been asleep. I didn’t expect myself to be awake for the entire duration of the night, but I was still upset with myself for giving in to my fatigue. Something could have happened, but I was glad nothing did. I was still tired, having stayed awake for most of the night watching over Kiran. I rubbed the sleep out of my eyes with a forepaw. My railgun was still grasped in my other forepaw, and I brought the gun up to my hip, holstering it.
Some of my worries over the human still being out there somewhere had faltered; perhaps it lost interest after witnessing my display of superior strength? Predators preferred a challenge when hunting, but their small brains understood when the odds were not in their favor. This human in particular probably saw our small group as easy pickings, and had developed a taste for krakotl flesh. That’d explain the blood spattered all over it, almost as if it were a trophy.
I looked at Kiran, who was still sound asleep. The beautiful orange of this planet’s sun filtered in through the translucent barrier surrounding us; its angelic rays permeated throughout the tent and casted a wondrous shine onto her dull blue feathers.
I yawned, standing up on all fours and leaned into a stretch. The soreness had worn off, and I was ready for another long journey, this time with the presence of my avian friend. I had another long day of strengthening my hind legs, no doubt. I just hope that the rest of the crew were close.
I unzipped my dirty jumpsuit, checking my small cuts. They seemed to be in relatively good shape and had scabbed over, leaving a soreness behind. After confirming that the wounds weren’t infected, I zipped my uniform back up.
I gently shook the sleeping Kiran awake. “Good morning, sleepy. It’s time to head out.” I whispered softly. She stirred and sat up. “Are you hungry? I have some rations.” I reached for my pack, snatching two cans of processed vegetable bars and handed one to her. “You need to eat to keep your strength up, honey.” I dug into my own helping quite quickly, stowing away the empty can. It wasn’t the best tasting thing in the galaxy as it was made specifically for the krakotls’ sophisticated palate. “How did you sleep?” I spoke between mouthfuls. She ate hers bit by bit, to the best of her ability. I imagine it would be difficult to eat something with a beak as narrow as hers was, so I patiently waited for her to finish.
“I slept well, actually.” She faced me, full of youthful vigor. It was almost as though her self confidence had drastically improved overnight. She stretched her good wing out, and checked the sling on the other. Once she was done with her helping, she got up, brushing her manipulators through her feathers. “How about you, Illia?”
“Good! I’m glad. Me, I slept like a fawn.” I fibbed, stifling another yawn. “Oh, let me take that from you, sweetheart.” I motioned to her empty vegetable bar container. I collected the tin from her, tossing it along with the other. I reached for my bag, leaving the heavy non-essentials inside the tent. I slugged it over my shoulder once more, my spine thanking me for lightening the load. The pack’s weight felt far more manageable than it did before. I might even be able to actually walk around with it this time. I wondered.
“Are we ready to go?” I stood in front of the tent, raising a forehoof to unzip us to freedom. The krakotl girl chirped her affirmative after checking herself over, and we both exited the tent, ready for another adventure. Upon leaving, I was extremely surprised to see that I didn’t even have to reignite the fire, as it was still burning, although not as strong as yesterday. The crimson tree that Kiran had made the campfire out of was highly flammable, if I had to guess. That would explain the randomly scorched trees throughout the landscape that I saw earlier. I was relieved that none of them combusted while we were asleep.
“Alright. Let’s head this way, shall we?” I plucked some of the damp yellow moss from a neighboring tree with a spare piece of fabric in between my hooves in case it was an irritant, which was smart thinking on my behalf. I chucked the large bundle into the blaze, smothering the few flames that remained. The fire choked for a moment, then began eating away at the moss, emitting a white column of smoke that snaked towards the light orange of the morning sky.
We checked if we had everything, then started on our expedition. I wasn’t sure where we’d go first, but it would have to be relatively close to where the campfire was in case anyone was nearby. I eyed the skyline before us, the mountains in the distance were a wonderful gradient of bright reds, purples, and yellows, perfectly blending together.
I breathed in the fresh morning air. This would have been a delightful trip, were we on a civilized planet. It still was, to an extent. The native organisms of this untouched wonder of a planet were truly a sight to behold, regardless of its many dangers. From the vivid colors of the flora to the deep red sky watching overhead, everything about this world was eye-catching.
We ventured throughout the crimson woods, encircling the campsite while keeping an eye on the smoke signal so that we wouldn’t veer off-course too much. I also was wary of the tall grass and dense shrubs around us, concentrating on even the slightest noise or movement. Today was particularly windy, so my efforts were in vain. We kept to the more open areas, even if that meant making sharp detours around areas where a predator could be concealed in.
Every now and then we would stop for a break, as I had done before. Kiran fared well during our hike, if not even better than I. We stopped underneath the shade of some crimson trees for another rest after a long while. I unpacked one of our water bottles, taking a small swig before handing it to Kiran. We rationed our supplies as best as we could, but we were quickly running out of food. We would soon have to resort to checking if the local flora were edible.
The smoke signal was still in my sight, and we only had a small distance to go in order to complete our full circle. I had thought about calling out into the woods, but decided against it, as it was likely that we would attract unwanted attention. I felt extremely uncomfortable within the dark woodland, despite having a firearm in my possession.
I lay on the grassy floor on my side, attempting to cool myself off. Kiran was doing much of the same, though in a sitting posture. I lifted my head up, snorting through my nostrils to get her attention.
“Having fun?” I smirked playfully. She clicked her beak together with amusement.
“I would be, if the sun wasn’t burning into my feathers.” She squawked between pants. She rested her head against a rock that put even the brightest of rainbows to shame.
“It’s not all bad, is it? It's all about perspective; look at the positives! You have to learn to appreciate the little things in life.”
“Ok, I appreciate..” She glanced around her surroundings, looking for something of value. “I appreciate this rock, does that count?” She gestured behind her. I couldn’t help but chuckle. “It is quite the rock, isn’t it?” She giggled in response. I adored bonding with the girl, she was almost an extension of my own child, in a way.
I didn’t find it odd or strange at the time to fawn over the beauty of an inanimate object, as we both admired its various colors. “Alright, that’s enough geology for me, I think.” I stood, dusting myself off. I heard a faint snapping sound, and my eyes traveled back to the avian, who now looked absolutely petrified, a lone eye focusing on me. She looked almost as scared as she had been when the human attacked her, but this is far worse. Is she looking at me?
I tilted my head in confusion. “Honey? Y-you’re scaring me.” I chuckled nervously. “What’s wrong?” She gave no response. I suddenly felt a massive surge of anxiety wrack my brain, and my ears perked up. The same feeling that haunted me on the ship returned for a comeback, and this time, my question didn’t have to be answered. I heard shuffling a good distance away from me, and I whipped my head in that direction, following her blank stare. My ribcage tightened as I struggled to breathe. I watched the tall grass adjacent from our position, waiting for something to happen.
The first thing I saw were its horrible forward-facing eyes with slit pupils, instantly recognizing it as a predator. They both were dilated, intent on feasting on our bloody flesh. The feral predator observed me with its piercing golden orbs as it slunk closer. It stalked towards us with its head low to the ground, stray droplets of drool spilling out of its long, gaping maw of which were lined with dozens of razor-sharp teeth capable of effortlessly crushing bone.
I didn’t know what exactly I was looking at, but I knew it was there. The beast prowled out of the tall grass in short strides with its ghastly head low to the ground, drooling over our new and alien scent. The lengthy blades of grass combed over its rainbow-colored hide as it revealed itself. Both it and the grass were a near match in terms of coloration, as I strained my eyes to focus on its appearance.
As it moved further into the light, I was able to get a better glimpse of it. The creature itself was covered in skin instead of fur, which was odd. The upper body of the animal was speckled with various bright colors that mimicked the grass, only for it to darken as the pattern stretched towards its underbelly, and morphed into a full jet black where it reached its clawed feet. I had never feared death before as much as I did right now.
I snapped myself out of my terrified stupor, jumping up to my hind hooves and quickly yanking my railgun out of its holster, jabbing it towards the thing with shaky hooves. I gasped for air as my lungs felt heavy, staring down the freak of nature. My heart sank even further and nearly burst out of my chest as I saw two other predators just like the first emerge from behind it. Oh, fuck. The weapon in my hoof suddenly seemed insignificant.
My eyes widened. We have to leave, now. I grabbed Kiran without a word, pulling her along rather roughly. I dashed as fast as my legs could take me while gripping around the length of Kiran’s wing. I didn’t look back once, only focused on making it back to the tent. There was no guarantee that the fire at the campsite would dissuade them from indulging in their hunger at all, but what other option did we have? I glanced back, and was horrified to realize that the reason why they didn’t already tear us apart was because they were giving us a head start. The monstrous things were playing with their ‘food’, for fun.
I looked down to Kiran, then up to the smoke rising from the campsite. We wouldn’t make it in time. I had to make a choice. I swallowed with teary eyes. ‘’G-go.” I flicked an ear towards the campsite. “Now!” I squealed. She obeyed my order without hesitation, and fluttered over that way.
I was not at all prepared for what I was about to do, and doing so would most definitely result in my death. Weeping, I stood in place as the grayish-blue feathered girl escaped to safety.
“H-hey!” I bleated at the top of my lungs while hopping around vigorously, doing everything in my power to attract the predator’s attention towards me. “Over here!” My voice was hoarse, filled with a mixture of emotions. I hope Kiran will be able to forgive me.
All three of their large heads whipped towards me, my diversion evidently working. I holstered my weapon and turned tail, speeding the opposite way and galloping wherever my legs would take me. I leaped through twisted trees only large enough for me to fit through, and hopped over large rocks, hoping it would slow the monsters down.
Just when I thought I was clear, my hind leg unfortunately latched underneath a root peeking out of the ground, forcing me into a halt. I stopped moving instantly as my momentum ceased, and a sharp pain shot through my ankle. I yelped in distress, my upper body smacking onto the dirt with a hard thud. I whined as my weapon was flung out of its holster, landing in front of me. I crawled towards the weapon with all of my remaining strength.
The predators sauntered over, a threatening growl reverberating through the pack’s leader. I crawled towards my last chance at living, finally reaching it. I fitted my fumbling fingers around the weapon as the predator leader charged toward me while I turned around, leveling the weapon with the rainbow demon’s skull. I expelled a single and final shot as the round soared through its nose, expelling a fountain of brain matter behind it as it fell limp, a couple of feet away from me. The other two creatures were taken aback at first, but were now furious that I had dispatched their leader. I was hit with the horrific realization that I had just used the last of my ammunition.
They slowly pressed onward as I lay on my back, a hideous expression of hunger plastered on their flesh-eating faces. I shut my eyes tight, bracing for an excruciating death. Is this it? Is this how I die? At least I can rest well knowing that Kiran is safe. Please, don’t let my death be for nothing. I prayed to whatever deity was listening. Let my family I lo-
My thoughts were interrupted by a sickening crack, followed by the predator closest to me snapping its head back and toppling over, painted by its own viscous blood that spilled out of a gaping wound in its skull. It had taken a clean shot to the side of the head, dying as soon as the projectile had landed. The third predator scampered away after hearing the loud noise, staring daggers into whatever it was that ended the life of its friend. It tucked its tail between its legs in submission, hissing towards my savior before retreating back to where it came from. What on Jild just happened?
I turned my head to my side slowly, still wary of my surroundings. Right next to me was the same human whom I had spared earlier, with its signature metal pipe still strapped to its back. Its arm was outstretched towards the dead predator, with a terran-made weapon grasped in its paw. It lowered the gun down to its side, and I screamed as it began stomping towards me, intending to claim its stolen kill. “O-Oh, Jild, no! P-please, don-don’t eat me!” I cried, trying to reason with the predator. Without thinking, I mindlessly raised the spent railgun up to the thing in an attempt to shoot it, and it retaliated, wrapping its gloved fingers around my own. It effortlessly ripped the useless gun away from my grasp with a mighty paw, tossed it to the side, and wrapped its paw around my body.
My nightmares were coming true. I would be eaten alive, without remorse. I would much rather have died at the fangs of the feral predators instead of the human’s. The human would take its time, and enjoy every second of my suffering.
I was lifted up slightly with incredible strength while screaming my head off, struggling to worm away from its mighty grasp. I squirmed violently, not having enough air in me to continue screaming. The murderer held the gun’s muzzle up to my neck and uttered a single sentence with a deep, growling rumble: “Stop fucking moving.”
My translator implant belted out the meaning to me and I stupidly followed its orders. I shut up, both terrified and surprised that it could understand me or even articulate comprehensive words. I was fully expecting it to sink its fangs into me, but instead, the masked figure slipped the straps of my bag off of my shoulders, dropping me onto the ground and taking my satchel. It began to search through it diligently, tossing out what wasn’t to its liking. The human took out the last of my water supply and interestingly enough, a few of my vegetable bars. It tossed my near-empty bag back to me and slung its own massive bag around, stuffing the supplies inside.
I could only watch as it stole what little supplies I had left. For a moment, I was filled with pure, unbridled rage, replacing my fear with anger. “You m-monster!” I stood on my hind hooves, ignoring the pain burning through my right ankle and attempted to make myself appear as big as I could. “Y-you killed them!” I shouted at the emotionless predator. It had ripped my colleagues to shreds until they were unrecognizable, and it would pay. It in turn slightly tilted its mask towards me, unimpressed. I shrunk back down as its gaze fell upon me, and my ears flattened to my skull.
A low rumble came from it, which my translator picked up on as a chuckle. It was laughing. How dare you?! I snorted angrily. “You.. you’re.. Laughing? Wh-What is wrong with you?!” I yelled at the deranged predator. At that moment I wished I could go back in time and pull the trigger.
“I’m the monster. That’s funny.” It sadistically remarked. “I’m not the one who bombed an entire planet full of billions of innocent women and children.” It turned to face me fully, stalking over to me. My posture tightened as I cowered in fear; its hulking shadow loomed over me. This was the closest I had ever been to the human, or any predator, really. It could probably smell the copious amount of fear that my body was producing.
“I should kill you right fucking now.” It growled, practically spitting venom. It gripped its weapon tightly, threatening to break it. The being relented, apparently deciding against it. Wasn’t it going to eat me?
It stood there, staring down at me, unmoving. “W-why?” I whined. “Why did you.. k-kill them?!”
“You’ll have to be more specific.” It taunted me. My anger only grew.
“The.. the forest. Admit it! You killed them! I s-saw, I was there! Only a predator can do what you d-did!” I gasped, not meeting its gaze.
“Forest?” It scoffed. “What the fuck are you talking about?”
What?! That made no sense.. Assuming it really didn’t know what I was referring to.. Had it not killed that group of krakotl? No, that can’t be. Is this a case of predatory deceit?
“Wh-wha..” I stammered, confused.
“If you’re referring to the ship, that was me.” It spoke of the murderous act almost as if it was proud of it, which sickened me to the core. “I enjoyed every second of watching those featherfucks gasping for air, pawing at the airlock. I’d do it again, if I could.” Its grating voice resonated through my bones.
I was enraged at the monster’s admittance of murdering the bomber ship's crew. I felt a wealth of emotions coursing through me, none of which I could openly express. I could only stand there, waiting for its next move. I heard my name being called in the distance, but absent-mindedly ignored it.
It leaned forward until I could see my own reflection in its reflective face mask.
“I’ll give you one last chance: you stay far away from your friends, especially that fucking bird, unless you want to die. If I see you again, next time I won’t hesitate to kill you.” It proclaimed with a gravelly voice. It unfolded upward, straightening its spine. It then turned, walking away with its bounty into the wilderness once again, leaving me alone and confused.
Why on Jild did it save me? That made no sense whatsoever, and went against everything I had been taught. Did it really hold back its bloodlust just to taunt me over how much it loved killing? Why didn’t it eat me while I was vulnerable?
Multiple questions flooded my mind, and I had developed a headache that was worsening by the second. Today was quite the adrenaline booster, I would need a long rest after all of this.
With the human gone, I was left to my own devices. I picked up the scattered contents of my pack, recollecting them.
I heard the rustling of leaves across from me, and I faced the source of the noise. I was spent emotionally, the constant adrenaline rushes taking its toll on me. I could do nothing but lean against a lone stump as I accepted my fate.
I had a good run.
- - -
V V V [STORY IS CONTINUED IN THE COMMENTS!!!] V V V
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LPI (LP Information)' newest research report, the “Thyristor Output Optocoupler Industry Forecast” looks at past sales and reviews total world Thyristor Output Optocoupler sales in 2022, providing a comprehensive analysis by region and market sector of projected Thyristor Output Optocoupler sales for 2023 through 2029. With Thyristor Output Optocoupler sales broken down by region, market sector and sub-sector, this report provides a detailed analysis in US$ millions of the world Thyristor Output Optocoupler industry.
This Insight Report provides a comprehensive analysis of the global Thyristor Output Optocoupler landscape and highlights key trends related to product segmentation, company formation, revenue, and market share, latest development, and M&A activity. This report also analyzes the strategies of leading global companies with a focus on Thyristor Output Optocoupler portfolios and capabilities, market entry strategies, market positions, and geographic footprints, to better understand these firms' unique position in an accelerating global Thyristor Output Optocoupler market.
This report presents a comprehensive overview, market shares, and growth opportunities of Thyristor Output Optocoupler market by product type, application, key manufacturers and key regions and countries.
https://www.lpinformationdata.com/reports/727987/outdoor-tower-mounted-amplifier-2029
The main participants
Vishay
LITEON
Everlight
Onsemi
Toshiba
Panasonic
Sharp
IXYS Corporation
COSMO Electronics
Xiamen Hualian Electronics
JieJie Microelectronics
CT Micro
Shenzhen Orient
Segmentation by type
Zero Crossing
Without Zero Crossing
Segmentation by application
Solid State Relay
Industrial Control
Motor
Solenoid Valve
Others
Key Questions Addressed in this Report
What is the 10-year outlook for the global Thyristor Output Optocoupler market?
What factors are driving Thyristor Output Optocoupler market growth, globally and by region?
Which technologies are poised for the fastest growth by market and region?
How do Thyristor Output Optocoupler market opportunities vary by end market size?
How does Thyristor Output Optocoupler break out type, application?
What are the influences of COVID-19 and Russia-Ukraine war?
LP INFORMATION (LPI) is a professional market report publisher based in America, providing high quality market research reports with competitive prices to help decision makers make informed decisions and take strategic actions to achieve excellent outcomes.We have an extensive library of reports on hundreds of technologies.Search for a specific term, or click on an industry to browse our reports by subject. Narrow down your results using our filters or sort by what’s important to you, such as publication date, price, or name.
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In the annals of human history, as chronicled from the vantage point of the far-flung future, the epoch known as the Great Exodus stands as a shining monument to human ingenuity, courage, and determination. It was the time when our species, once bound to the verdant cradle of Earth, made its first tentative steps into the starry expanse. The chapter of this great saga began in the Earth Year 2068, when the Circle of Launching was first forged. This ingenious device, a marvel of human engineering, was designed to catapult matter at unprecedented speeds. The Circle, a perfect loop of superconductive material, accelerated a tiny satellite to an astounding 1% of the speed of light. This first envoy of humanity, this humble harbinger, blazed a trail through the interstellar void, its incessant transmissions echoing back to the listening devices on Earth, confirming the success of the audacious experiment. Buoyed by this triumph, the architects of destiny aimed higher. In the Year 2072, the Circle of Launching bore a more complex burden into the void: a satellite accompanied by the components of another Circle and a swarm of automated assemblers, devised to construct a new Circle in the cold emptiness of space. When the ensemble had travelled a sufficient distance, the assemblers set to work, creating a twin of the original Circle. This new Circle, once erected, achieved something miraculous. It accelerated the satellite, not away from Earth, but back towards it. It was the first braking maneuver of its kind, the implications of which reverberated throughout the scientific community. Confirmation messages of the satellite's course reversal reached Earth, setting off a wave of celebration. Then, the boldest step of all was taken. By the Earth Year 2081, the human species was ready to extend its reach farther than ever before. An optimal world, suitable for human life, had been identified; an Earthly twin nestled in a distant constellation. The Circle of Launching, refined and augmented, was prepared for a monumental task: to propel a human expedition across the cosmic void. The courageous explorers, pioneers of a new era, embarked on their perilous journey. Their vessel, a wonder of technology and testament to human ambition, was a shining beacon hurtling towards a new dawn. As the spacecraft diminished into a distant star, those left behind on Earth waited with bated breath. Soon, the first messages began to filter through the void, crossing the unimaginable distance. Each transmission brought word of milestones achieved, each one a confirmation of the expedition's success, each one bringing the distant world closer to the heart of humanity. These remarkable achievements are the cornerstones of the Great Exodus, the stepping stones that led humanity from the confines of Earth to the boundless expanse of the cosmos. The Circle of Launching, the twin circles, the courageous human expedition—all are essential threads woven into the grand tapestry of our cosmic journey. They remain etched in our collective memory, reminding us of our past and inspiring us to reach out to the stars yet uncharted.

This is a weekly reminder post of this sub's stance on potential copyright infringement. This is a serious issue that needs to be kept in mind when creating and listing NFTs.
Original post by u/HurleyBird1
Quick disclaimer: I AM NOT A LAWYER. THIS IS NOT LEGAL ADVICE - THIS IS SIMPLY INFORMATION WITH WHICH TO EDUCATE YOURSELVES AND PREPARE YOURSELF FOR LEGAL ADVICE FROM A LICENSED SOURCE.
Now that that's out of the way. My credentials are: MBA, with a bit of business law classes under my belt.
I want to give a quick explanation of how copyright works - and I'll do so through quick blurbs n some myth/reality bullets.
Source: copyright.gov (US)

1. Subject matter of copyright: In general28(a) Copyright protection subsists, in accordance with this title, in original works of authorship fixed in any tangible medium of expression, now known or later developed, from which they can be perceived, reproduced, or otherwise communicated, either directly or with the aid of a machine or device. Works of authorship include the following categories:(1) literary works;(2) musical works, including any accompanying words;(3) dramatic works, including any accompanying music;(4) pantomimes and choreographic works;(5) pictorial, graphic, and sculptural works;(6) motion pictures and other audiovisual works;(7) sound recordings; and(8) architectural works.(b) In no case does copyright protection for an original work of authorship extend to any idea, procedure, process, system, method of operation, concept, principle, or discovery, regardless of the form in which it is described, explained, illustrated, or embodied in such work.

- Myth: I can use any image/song/video/writing I want.
- Reality: No. Not true at all.
- Myth: Well they never said it's copyrighted.
- Reality: Upon publication (and even while a work in progress) a work is automatically protected via copyright under US Law.
- Myth: Well they never sold it.
- Reality: It doesn't have to be commercialized to be protected.
- Myth: Well it was a long time ago
- Reality: Possibly true...as long as the creator is deceased (or if multiple creators, the last living one is deceased) and the required time has passed...although this gets tricky with "estates."
(d) Duration of Rights.—(1) With respect to works of visual art created on or after the effective date set forth in section 610(a) of the Visual Artists Rights Act of 1990, the rights conferred by subsection (a) shall endure for a term consisting of the life of the author.
So what's this thing I hear called "Fair Use?"
Straight from the source:

1. Limitations on exclusive rights: Fair use41Notwithstanding the provisions of sections 106 and 106A, the fair use of a copyrighted work, including such use by reproduction in copies or phonorecords or by any other means specified by that section, for purposes such as criticism, comment, news reporting, teaching (including multiple copies for classroom use), scholarship, or research, is not an infringement of copyright. In determining whether the use made of a work in any particular case is a fair use the factors to be considered shall include—(1) the purpose and character of the use, including whether such use is of a commercial nature or is for nonprofit educational purposes;(2) the nature of the copyrighted work;(3) the amount and substantiality of the portion used in relation to the copyrighted work as a whole; and(4) the effect of the use upon the potential market for or value of the copyrighted work.The fact that a work is unpublished shall not itself bar a finding of fair use if such finding is made upon consideration of all the above factors.

Uhh...help me translate that please... (here's a decent official translation: https://www.copyright.gov/fair-use/more-info.html)

1. above...if it's non-profit educational use, you're usually good to go...if it's for money or trade (commercial nature) then you're usually NOT...unless YOUR piece is "transformative"

Transformative uses are those that add something new, with a further purpose or different character, and do not substitute for the original use of the work.
- Myth: Well this is paid for in Algos, not USD so it's not "commercial"
- Reality: IT IS commercial. You could even barter for bacon and it'd be commercial. It's an exchange of one good/service for another good/service.
- Myth: My piece with Batman inside a card is "transformative"
- Reality: No, unfortunately, more-than-likely the courts would say it's not. A good litmus test is..."If Warner Bros Entertainment (owner of Batman) wanted to make an NFT/ASA "Batman card" would yours compete with it or be possibly mistaken (by a reasonable person - so in America think 8th grade education) for real merchandise? Probably...thus it's not transformative enough.
"nature" gets a little tougher. This looks at protecting the "creative process." Thus, using other works of art is less-likely to be protected than using factual sources - like historical photographs since it's easier to "create art" and thus "transform" factual pieces than other art pieces. This is also talking to things like "parody." Satire is NOT protected. "Parody" is. What's the difference? LegalZoomputs it well: While a parody targets and mimics the original work to make a point, a satire uses the original work to criticize something else entirely. Another way to look at it is that satire uses another work as a way to comment on something happening in the world that has nothing to do with the original work.
- Myth: I added a different border, extra planets, and some blur effect to MTZ's World of Light - it's a new piece of art.
- Reality: Not likely the courts will see it that way.
- Myth: This guy added a filter, some burn effects, and collaged a bunch of newspaper headlines together - isn't that a violation!
- Reality: Probably not...the courts would probably see this as a creation of art out of factual sources.
amount/substantiality in relation to the whole...this is where using clips of songs that are only like 5 seconds long works! But using more than that...runs into problems. This is tough to decipher too...as some songs are EASILY identifiable from just 5 seconds (Ice, ice, baby) - and thus NOT fair use. But some aren't. Usually you're safe using a very small clip of a song or video - especially if you're adding more to it. But this is a dangerous game to play - and there's places to get free audio (some sources below)
effect of the use - this is probably the biggest one. Courts will look at simply...does YOUR work affect the sales or potential for sales of the copyright owner. Of note...this is looked at at the time of the issue being brought to the court, not at the time of sale. For example, let's say my batman card sells for 10 Algos today, but Algorand BLOWS UP and soon every NFT is on Algorand. And now my OG Batman NFT is seen as one of the first Batman ones and official. Warner Bros gonna sue the shit outta whoever owns it at the time they sue to get the rights to all sales of that NFT. So that person is left holding an empty bag when Warner Bros wins in court.
- Myth: Well they're not commercializing it NOW so I'm safe.
- Reality: Technically, yea Warner Bros probably won't spend the money to go after the OG artist and the hands the asset passed through...HOWEVER, they may. That's their right. Who knows - the Napster days showed us the lengths companies will go to. EVEN BIGGER HOWEVER, the last person holding it when Warner Bros DOES decide to go after that Batman NFT...uh oh for them - they just lost their asset.
- Myth: Well it's been like a year, and no one has brought up copyright. So I'm good.
- Reality: If this was in a normal market...maybe this argument would work. If McDonald's let you sell a Ronald McDonald poster for like a year on Amazon with no issues, some court may say "bro, you took too long to bring this to us." HOWEVER, with cryptocurrency being so new (and Algorand being so little known/discussed), most courts would see it as "reasonable" that a copyright owner failed to exercise their rights within a year - possibly even a decade. (Updated because I realized last example dealt with trademark not copyright :o)
So what am I safe to use?
US Government works (mostly)...any deemed free to use by creator...and any a copyright lawyer says they have your backs on (cuz now they're liable).
Here's some great sources for free use items (please add to this list below if you know of some!!!):
Pictures: https://buffer.com/library/free-images/ (Unsplash is one of my faves)
Music: https://www.wix.com/blog/photography/2019/11/27/free-music-for-videos/
Video: https://blog.hootsuite.com/free-stock-videos-sites/
You'll notice there's a lot of "shoulds" "coulds" "probably" etc. This is because copyright cases are all unique and go to the courts. The best bet is to go with stuff you KNOW is free and fair-use. If not, I'd look up copyright law, consult supreme court cases concerning copyright, and ultimately, talk to a lawyer.
AGAIN: I AM NOT A LAWYER. I AM NOT PROVIDING LEGAL ADVICE. I AM SIMPLY PROVIDING INFORMATION. THERE MAY BE ERRORS ABOVE THAT COULD CAUSE SUBSTANTIAL DAMAGES - CONSULT A COPYRIGHT ATTORNEY IF YOU WISH TO RECEIVE LEGAL ADVICE.

Summary: You’re an unusual pairing, a scientist and a vampire. It’s a love story that really wrote itself – but as time passes and more modern thinkers about, the age of vampires is coming to an end and scientists are being shoved in the spotlight. Your dear scientist however has plans to keep your legend alive.
This script is open to be monetized and used, all I ask is that credit is given in your video description. If you choose to fill this script, please comment a link to your recording. Making changes to the script and to the gender of the listenespeaker is okay. ScriptBin Link
Plain text for speaking
(for tone suggestions)
[SFX and descriptions]
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[The sounds of metal gears turning, potions brewing, and the soft smell of… burning?
Just one more- no! no no no don’t pack up on me now you stupid generator- [LOUD CLANK] O FUCK – kicking it was a bad idea.
Oh heyyyy my dear bat… (very guilty) Noooo, I’m not experimenting. Not this late – I am simply cleaning the equipment and –
Fine, you know I was never able to lie to you… Yes I am working on another experiment but only to help you, my dear. You see I had this idea, this plan to-
Yes I know we’ve had this conversation a dozen times, but this time I know I can get this right! If we return creatures of the night to their original power just think of the control we could have over those mortals!
It infuriates me to just imagine what the world could be without you, without the creatures of the night. Humans would run rampant – it’s the only way we can keep them in check! I just –
Just… [shiver] Oh my dear bats, you know I can't keep myself together when you run your fingers through my hair like that… you make me so weak just being beside me, but when you lay your hands on me I can't help but melt…
You have me wrapped around your very finger and weak under your fangs, my love. You can bite me anytime you wish, my body is at your disposal and I will obey your every wish and command –
[You interrupt your dear husband with a quick kiss before he gets too carried away-]
(very flustered, trying to gain composure) Right, well as you can see I’ve taken some inspiration from the Dreameaters machine, using the base as a way to absorb some of humankind's worst nightmares, then used some extra fancy bits to sort them into dreams about creatures of the night, and then again into dreams and nightmares.
But then that wasn't enough, so I made an add-on machine to also consume some of their media about creatures of the night. It seemed like a good idea at first, but then I had to make filter to get rid of some of the more,, well let’s just say not so safe for work ideas they had about us.
All very complex, but I’m getting there. You see, with this, we can perform whatever fears the humans think of most – of course in moderation – to start striking the fear back into them. At the moment it seems to be skinwalkers disguised as their friends, which admittedly would be difficult to do at first since the humans seem to be getting smarter at knowing who is who.
My dear bat, just think of what this could do for the community. Alas, I know I am not one of them, but I can’t help but care so deeply for the creatures that lead me to you. I can’t help but want to help their legacy – your legacy! Withstand the passing of time.
[Small, semi awkward pause]
Well, what do you think? Do you think it needs an evil name? Or maybe a scarier look? I went a bit overboard with the dream thing, I tried just using what they had in the media and well, there were a lot of things that should be kept private… - so much porn…
[You give a slow nod of approval]
Really? Yes! Thank you, my dear bat. I promise, I will not let you down. I will help you restore the fear that the creatures of the night deserve- wait no, respect! And fear! I -
[You lean down to give your scientist a kiss, a passionate one at that]
(enamoured) Oh, dear bat. Keep kissing me like that and we might have to worry about cross contamination - which is no joke but I’d be willing to risk it all for you. Anything for you.
I know you do, I love you too. I want to spend all of my days and all of my nights with you. Mostly the nights because we’re basically nocturnal at this point - on the account of you being a vampire and me not liking the sun. And not liking humans, or social interaction, or just the public in general.
I don’t think I’ve actually seen the sun in a few weeks- no, months maybe. I’m not sure… But I wouldn't want to change a thing, being nocturnal means I get to spend every moment under the moonlight with you.
We haven’t danced in the moonlight for… a few hours, but I didn’t want to disturb you while you were tending to the carnivorous plants, you know how they do like to bite me- and not in the way I like it.
[You step closer to your husband, standing directly over him.]
Don’t play coy, you know just how I like it. Your lips kissing me up from my chest onto my neck, your fangs brushing against my skin, that small give you give me before you sink your teeth into my flesh. The blood pouring down my neck, covering your lips…
[You grab him by his tie- he yelps as you bring your face closer to his.]
We can kiss down here if you want to, I just might have to clear things off my desk so you can reach me without having to bend down, I know how it hurts your neck after a while. As much as I know you enjoy seeing me in pain, I don’t share the same pleasure when you are in discomfort.
[Your literally knock everything of his desk onto the floor in one clean swoop, sit all falls, crashing onto the floor.]
Oh, dear bat, I kind of needed those papers, but that doesn’t matter, I can pick them up later and you can pretend to not look at my ass when I do. Don’t think I don’t catch you looking, but I must say, I do enjoy it when you watch me. Especially from the shadows.
I guess now we can - OH?
[You pick up your husband, and promptly toss him onto the desk.]
OH? I like this. Alot. I could get used to you tossing me around more often- maybe even everyday, if you wouldn’t mind doing so of course.
[You brush your lips against your husbands neck, listening as breathing becomes hitched.]
Oh those fangs never fail to… excite me. How much blood do you want from me today, my dear bat? Go on, bite me. I’ll sit still. Just for you, dear bats.
[You bite into your husbands neck, and he near melts in your arms.]
Yes, oh I can already feel the blood running down my neck, your sweet lips against my neck - it’s enough to make a man melt… And trust me, I am.
[He whimpers as you continue feeding,
How much?- All of it. Drain me. Suck the life out of me - leave me a bloodless mess of a man, rip apart my neck if you need to. If it is my body that you need, that take it from me, I would willingly surrender myself to you if it meant you were satisfied, happy, even for just a moment.
[You pull back, wiping the blood off your lips.]
More? What else could we possibly do- oh, you mean that kind of more…
Do you worse, dear bats.
​
[SFW CUT! ]
Here, spice, as a treat.

--- Table of Contents ---
Spring 4984, 9 Kuromoth, Spring Equinox
“Archmage, I thought you had already gone…” Brom’s voice, beyond Her door. She didn’t move, didn’t bother to look towards the closed portal. Had it been months or years since he'd last come to sit with Her?
“I will be leaving presently…” Archmage Morndancer’s cold voice answered. She squeezed tighter into Her little ball in the dark corner. It didn’t matter that he would be gone. He left the tower often, but it didn’t stop Her punishment. Even as the season turned from winter to spring, She'd stayed locked in Her room. With no books and no company. Occasionally being taken out to give samples in a lab completely separate from that of Her treasures. Only their yowls and barks from down the hall offering any comfort.
“It’s an important day, isn’t it, Archmage? Perhaps Sellon will pass the test.” Ran’s voice. Did he sound nervous? Her head tilted, just a little, towards the door. The half-circle of light from Her window did very little to banish the darkness of the room. She hadn’t bothered to light the candles. What was the point?
Morndancer scoffed, “Doubtful. Ronni didn’t manage it. And just as his sister before him, Sellon will join the Mages Guild whether he passes or not.” Sellon and Ronni, Archmage Morndancer’s children. She'd heard of them from Brom and Ran. So they were Mages as well. Perhaps they would be the ones to come take Her blood and cut Her hair in future. It didn’t matter. Nothing had ever mattered.
“But a Wizard-Cleric of Saint Bede might…”
“Enough.” Morndancer interrupted Brom, “Bede is no god, he wasn't even a decent Mage, he was and is a villain. We would not have this responsibility to save the world if he and his lot hadn’t doomed it.”
“Of course, Archmage, yes.” nervous feet shuffled outside Her door.
“Even now, Shaloon is trying to locate the next storm.” Morndancer continued his chastisement, “They come more frequently and destroy greater swaths of land. If we continue to be as useless as the other Talons, there will be no world left to save. So rather than waste your time on prayers to usurper gods, you had best refocus and redouble your efforts while we are away. Do you understand?”
“Yes, Archmage,” Brom and Ran said in unison.
“Good. And be sure to return those to the library when you have finished with them.” the hiss of fabric on stone accompanied the Archmage's exit.
Her door handle jingled, and Her head came up a fraction, but, “Wait…” Brom’s whisper. Silence followed, and She dropped Her head again, pressing her closed eyes into Her knees. Minutes passed, or was it hours? Did it matter? Maybe She would crawl into Her bed and try to sleep. Time passed faster that way. Or maybe She would just stay here in Her little ball in the corner.
“He should be gone by now…” Her lock clicked, and the door creaked open, but She didn’t bother to look up, “Goldy? Maybe She’s sleeping…” Brom whispered.
“Damn, it’s dark in here. Red, can we get a light?” She didn’t answer Ran’s request. What was the point? They would find Her and they would take Her for samples. She didn’t have to help them do it. “Grab the candle from the table, Brom. My hands are full.”
She could feel the life of a tiny flame beyond Her door. Felt it draw closer and enter Her room before it flickered and died. “Oh, Goldy… please don’t…” the shuffling of feet moving carefully in the darkness came closer. She tried to pull in tighter, tucking Her head against Her chest and letting Her now shoulder-length hair fall forward to further hide Her face.
They crouched at either side of Her, Brom setting the useless candle down to Her left with a soft ‘tink’ of brass on stone. Something much heavier was placed on Her right, the familiar scents of hardbound leather, paper, and ink… “We brought you some books, Red…”
She lifted Her head, looking through the tangled strands of golden hair and seeing a pair of worried faces looming in the dark. “If you light up the room a bit, we can read,” Brom slowly pushed Her hair back, careful not to touch Her skin. As though She would burn him. She might have. If She could find the energy.
“You’re not supposed to...” Her voice crackled from lack of use, making Her whisper even more inaudible.
“What?” Ran leaned closer, but She didn’t repeat Herself, “It’s been months, Red. You’re not in trouble anymore.”
She blinked silently at him.
“Look, Goldy,” Brom shuffled forward, still in his crouch, “things can go back to normal now. The Archmage will be out for a few days. We can take you to play with the animals tomorrow.” She shifted Her blank stare to him. Brom waited for a moment, searching Her face for a familiar flicker of excitement. She didn’t give it to him. He sighed, “We’ll leave these with you then. You can read them when you’re ready.”
Brom made to stand, but She grabbed the hem of his sleeve, “Stay with me…” On the candle, the smallest of lights began to flicker to life. Brom sat down with a groan, and on Her other side, Ran plopped down even less gracefully.
He leaned his back against Her bed and picked the top book off the small pile they'd brought Her, “We can stay until lunch, Goldy.”
“But we still have a lot of work to do…”
It was enough. The candle burned brighter, and She shifted Her legs down, taking the book Ran passed to Her. Things would finally be returning to normal. As they always had been, and as they always would be.
***
Shon woke long before the kitchen servant would come to fetch him. Everything was the same, and yet nothing would ever be as it was before. Sitting up, he ran his fingers through his hair, only to realize that everything wasn't the same. The other two boys who'd reached maturity were also awake. It looked like Gaven hadn’t slept at all, his sandy hair tousled and his dark eyes bloodshot.
“This is it then… the last morning in the dorms?” Gaven whispered the useless question. Nan, the oldest by a month, nodded in silence. Shon didn’t bother with even that much, swinging his legs off the bed and kicking something. Another difference. A final gift from the Church. A leather pack for him to carry everything he owned.
Shon dressed in silence only broken by the shuffle of the other two joining him. After tying his boots, he started packing the bag. It was large enough to fit all of his clothes and even his seven journals, though the eighth made it a very tight fit.
“Should we make the beds?” Nan whispered. Again, Shon didn’t answer. Instead, he stripped the blanket and sheets from the mattress, folding them neatly and placing them with the pillow at the foot of the bed.
“Yeah… they'll have to strip them to wash anyway…” Gaven said, following Shon’s example.
They'd just finished when the door creaked open. Normally woken by the morning bells, Gaven and Nan both jumped, looking from the dark window to the door then at each other.
The servant girl who usually woke Shon looked in on them with some confusion, then hummed in understanding before holding the door open for them, “Come on then. There may be some leftover dessert you can have while we make breakfast…”
Shon doubted he could eat anything at the moment. His stomach worked itself in knots that put an uncomfortable pressure on his heart that in turn seemed as though it wanted to beat its way into his throat. The entire sensation made him feel a strange sort of nauseous. Nan and Gaven looked no better than he felt, and they both swallowed before exiting the room. Gaven took a moment to look back over his shoulder before shaking himself and setting his eyes forward. Nan seemed to rush from the room, too afraid to look back. Shon took one last look around before following, the door clicking closed behind them.
He let the other boys walk ahead of him and wondered what they were thinking. Gaven would be taking the test with him today, but Nan had been selected to join the Masons Guild and had opted to accept the offer right away rather than try for one of the divine orders first. Perhaps Nan was the smartest of them.
“We'll miss you…” the servant girl whispered so only Shon could hear, “It isn’t glamorous, but it’s honest work... if you want to join the Servants Guild…” the Servants Guild was a loose association of otherwise privately employed cleaners and cooks. It was the last choice for orphans, but also their most common destination. She'd meant the offer as a kindness, so Shon nodded in thanks, though nothing but the most desperate situation would ever see him join.
The head cook looked up as they entered the kitchen, nodding in understanding, “Couldn’t sleep?” he asked Nan and Gaven, who mumbled incoherently in response. To Shon, the cook smiled, offering only a silent nod.
The girl who'd reached maturity with them was already in the dining room, staring mournfully at a plate of hastily scrambled eggs and a few cookies from the night before.
“Hey Lara, couldn’t sleep anymore either?” Gaven asked with a strained smile. Shaking her head, she picked up her fork and tried to force down some of the breakfast. She'd been accepted into the Tailors Guild, but unlike Nan, had chosen to take the test with Shon and Gavin. Just in case.
The cook himself brought the boys their plates of eggs and cookies, and they ate in silence until the morning bells sounded. The three unused to being up early jumped at the sound, exchanging nervous looks. Their juniors and the priests would come flooding in soon, laughing and talking and enjoying another breakfast with friends and the closest thing they had to family. It would be the last time the four of them ate with the others in this room.
Shon didn’t know if he could take the bustle today, even if it was the last. Or maybe because it was. He stood, taking his mostly full plate and returning it to the kitchen. The cook looked from the untouched food to Shon and back again, then picked up a pair of cookies and held them out to him, “You might not be able to eat now, but you can save these for after.”
Shon took the gift, meeting the cook's eyes and nodding in silent thanks. The cook returned the nod and Shon left the kitchen without looking back. He slipped the cookies into one of the side pockets of his new pack as he made his way to the courtyard. He passed the bathroom, its wall lined with low-hanging sinks and a single long mirror. He'd practiced arching his eyebrows in that mirror...
Entering the courtyard, Shon hesitated, remembering his first early morning. When he couldn’t sleep for excitement at the mere possibility of training with a real adventurer. He'd wanted to learn to fight, but more than that, he'd wanted to learn how to train. After all, he would be doing a lot of that once he joined the Temple. It would be helpful to have a head start… Or, that's what he'd told himself back then.
Shon shut the door with a click of finality that rang in the still morning air. To his left were the classrooms where the city's children took lessons. Just thinking about his last lesson, with only those coming of age, still made him blush. To his right was the door to the chapel, where he'd sat with the other orphans through the weekly sermons. Shon respected the god of life and healing, but Soleil had never been his patron. Across from him was the clinic, where the Clerics of Soleil saw to the needs of the sick and injured. He'd only been sent there once, after breaking his arm trying to climb the tree in the courtyard.
Shon would have no need to pray to Soleil specifically, and the Temple kept their own clinic... if he passed. If he didn't... There was a chance he would see the clinic again, perhaps the chapel...
Shon stepped off the walkway surrounding the central tree, and a familiar voice sounded from its roots, “Feeling up to a few exercises?” Master Veon-Zih asked, rising from his cross-legged seat in one fluid motion. Shon stopped in their little clearing and nodded, letting his pack slide off his shoulder and flop heavily to the ground. “I take it there's nothing fragile in there then?” Veon-Zih asked with a chuckle.
The idea that a thirteen-year-old would have something valuable or fragile enough to break just by dropping the bag finally pulled Shon all the way out of his contemplations. He arched a skeptical eyebrow at his master.
“There, that’s more like it. You looked like a rather well-preserved zombie.” Veon-Zih took Shon by the shoulder, shaking him, “Not a thought in your head, or skip in your step.”
Shon shook his head, sinking into his horse stance to start his drills. He punched with his left fist first, and Veon-Zih took position just out of reach, so Shon’s knuckles barely brushed the fabric of his tunic. Shon held the position until Veon-Zih also threw his first punch. He aimed for Shon’s face, sending a wave of air and ki over his skin and nearly touching his nose. Shon didn’t flinch.
They worked through their punches in unison, nearly touching but never quite connecting. Shon worked in silence for a while then said, “Too many thoughts…”
“And none of them new, I’m sure,” Veon-Zih commented.
Shon nodded, “The same ones circle again and again. Even though I can’t do anything about them... yet.”
“Not until after the test.”
Shon had to swallow a sudden lump in his throat and nodded again, unable to speak even if he'd wanted to.
Veon-Zih moved on to the next strike, and Shon copied him. He'd lost count of the punches but followed his Master's lead. “I don’t suppose you want to talk about it?” Master Veon-Zih asked.
Shon shook his head but then sighed. Most people seemed to like thinking out loud, especially when troubled. He didn’t understand why, but his usual quiet contemplation wasn’t working, so maybe… “If I don’t pass…”
“I would think of all days, today would be the one to take a break!” Father Branston called from the chapel door. He began strolling towards them with a broad smile, “Do you think you’ll be done in time to join me?”
Was it time already? Shon glanced around, noticing Nan, Gaven, and Lara approaching from the living quarter, all looking pale, their lips drawn in tight unsmiling lines.
Veon-Zih hadn’t come up from his stance, so neither did Shon, but the Monk did laugh, “Keeping a routine can be soothing in times of great change.” he winked at Shon, “Even if it’s a positive change.”
Shon tried to smile at Veon-Zih’s apparent show of faith but wasn’t sure if he'd managed it. What if…?
“Well, I don’t want to rush you. Can I trust you to get Shon to the Chapel on time if I take the others now?” Father Branston laughed as though he'd said something particularly humourous, his great belly bouncing with mirth.
“We'll be there.” Master Veon-Zih assured Father Branston, and Shon nodded mutely, resuming his drills and trying not to watch the others leave. “We have plenty of time,” Veon-Zih whispered, “Take a few deep breaths. It's the end of your childhood, not your life.”
They moved from drills to kata. Master Veon-Zih stayed in front of Shon, moving with him and matching his routine strikes with the appropriate counters. “You were saying?” it had been awhile since Shon had tried to speak, though his head continued to spin with the half-formed thoughts.
“I don’t want to think about not passing,” Shon said, kicking high and hitting Veon-Zih’s waiting arm.
“Do you believe such thoughts will jinx you?”
Shon dropped his kick and punched as the kata dictated. Veon-Zih was right; working through their regular routines did seem to help calm his pounding heart. “I don’t know… Maybe? It’s stupid, though. Whether I pass or not was decided when I was born. It won’t change just because I think about it.”
“Emotions are rarely logical.” Veon-Zih smacked Shon’s punch aside at the last moment, and Shon moved smoothly from that strike to the next, “It’s normal to be nervous. One of your peers is just as nervous, and he already knows where he’s going.”
“They all do…” Shon mumbled, snap kicking straight in front of him, confident in his Master’s speed to dodge and counter.
Veon-Zih did indeed dodge, but instead of the usual counter he hooked Shon’s foot with his own and tried to pull him off balance. Shon only stumbled for a moment, shifting his form to a different kata and counter, his body moving before his mind could catch up. Veon-Zih spoke as they continued the different form without finishing the first, prompting, “Even those taking the test have other plans, just in case?”
“Lara was accepted by the Tailors, and Gaven is going to enlist in the guard…” They had sped up the pace, and Shon needed to concentrate, now on edge in case Master Veon-Zih decided to shift the practice again. A few more strikes in, the Monk dropped below Shon’s punch and swung at his ribs, forcing Shon to block. Shon switched the kata to his most recent on instinct, using the block to redirect the punch rather than stop it as the original kata would have dictated.
Veon-Zih smiled, his eyes twinkling at the move as he picked up the pace even further, “Both of those are honest jobs and noble callings.” Shon could only grunt in response, now moving too fast for him to think of anything but the exercise. Veon-Zih continued, “The enlisted make up the bulk of Hengist’s armies, and their loyalty is admirable. The Tailors Guild not only clothes the populace but often creates beautiful works of art that serve to enhance the natural beauty of the human form.”
The Master hadn’t even broken a sweat, but Shon had to gasp out, “But I don’t-” before he was interrupted by another unexpected punch. He countered but then disengaged, breathing deep and slow, “What will I do? If I don’t pass? I thought about joining the enlisted too but…” but the idea of being so close, and yet so impossibly far from his failed dream, pained him in a way he couldn’t put into words.
When Shon didn’t continue, Veon-Zih asked, “Will you reconsider joining me then?”
Shon blinked at the Monk, his eyes going wide. He'd thought he'd lost his chance with the Monastery when he'd denied Veon-Zih for the Temple three years ago, “You mean you'll still take me?” he stammered out.
Veon-Zih closed the distance between them and placed a firm hand on Shon’s shoulder, “So long as you are an obedient and willing student, remember?”
Shon’s eyes burned and another lump rose in his throat, preventing him from speaking. He nodded, and Veon-Zih smiled, turning away from him so Shon could rub his eyes without the Monk seeing. He still wasn’t comfortable with the thought of failing, but he felt a little more at ease, knowing he wouldn’t be alone even if he did.
“Shall we go then?” Veon-Zih scooped up Shon’s pack and held it out to him, “Destiny awaits no man.”
***
The Grand Chapel was dedicated to all the gods of the kingdom, and though today it was closed to the public, the doors were still crowded with families from every walk of life. Merchants and craftsmen mingled excitedly with one another while their children nervously awaited the start of the test that would determine the trajectory of the rest of their lives. A smaller group of only two families stood apart from the throng. Dressed in fine clothes and protected by private guards, the nobles surveyed the commoners with a detached air as though above the gods themselves. The boy Shon often saw at the Temple was among them.
Shon stopped just outside the crowd, arching his neck to try and see the doors. His quiet dread had turned to jitters of nervousness as he and Master Veon-Zih walked through the city. He wasn’t sure if he'd wanted to run or stop moving altogether. Now that they were here, he tried to distract himself by studying the faces and movements of those gathered. Though if he tried to draw them now, the shaking of his hands would probably make the pictures impossible to decipher.
The differences between the nobles and commoners, in particular, caught his eye. One of the nobles, a man of middling years, wore long robes with a high collar buttoned tight to his neck and looked as if he would rather be anywhere but here. Shon had just finished scanning up the man’s robes when their eyes met. A shiver, entirely unrelated to the general anxiety of the test, ran down his spine.
The noble’s eyes went wide, and he started for Shon, the edge of the crowd giving way for him like the sea before a ship. “You…” his voice was breathy, and he reached out. Shon stepped back and ran into Master Veon-Zih, “They are back, truly?” the strange man asked, his eyes fixed on Shon who could only stare in bewilderment.
“My good lord Morndancer!” Father Branston’s joy-filled greeting sounded from the side, “So your youngest has come of age has he?” the Abbot seemed to snap the noble from his focus, and he turned away from Shon as Branston made his way through the crowd, Lara and Gaven close behind.
“Yes, Abbot.” Morndancer surveyed the Cleric with what Shon could only describe as contempt, though the look hardly wiped the wide smile from Branston’s face, “Will we be starting soon? Sellon and I have business with the Mages Guild.”
“Though if young Sellon should find himself capable…” Branston started, but the noble snorted. “Ah well, to each their own.” Branston finished, turning away from Morndancer to address his young charges.
From a pouch on his belt, Father Branston pulled forth three small books that shouldn’t have been able to fit in the little bag, “I present to you, your papers.” He fanned the books out before him, and each of them took the one closest to them. They were bound in leather with the seal of the Kingdom of Daanlin embossed on the cover. The knight on the kingdom seal rode a horse and held a shield with the seal of Clearhelm on it, three tall pine trees in front of a snow-capped mountain.
Their papers were proof of their citizenship and would serve as a record of their lives and accomplishments. Master Veon-Zih had shown Shon his own papers months before. It held a record of every border he had ever crossed and every teleport he had ever taken, as well as proof of all of his adventures and every job performed for any of the kingdom’s organizations. Veon-Zih’s papers were a veritable tome compared to Shon’s meager notebook. Opening it to the first page, Shon saw his name followed by his presumed place and date of birth. It detailed that he had been raised in the Church in Smildna and when he had come of age. At the bottom was a place labeled but left blank for the date and results of today’s test…
Branston was still speaking to them, but Shon only partly registered the words, “You should keep your papers on you whenever possible. You will need them to reenter the city any time you leave…”
Veon-Zih placed a hand on Shon’s shoulder, and he nearly jumped out of his boots in surprise. Leaning down, the Monk whispered in his ear, “Soon this book will be full of your adventures and accomplishments. Regardless of what happens today.”
“Abbot,” Morndancer interjected as Father Branston finished his explanation, “the test? Some of us have places to be.”
“Yes, yes, patience is a virtue, my dear Lord Morndancer. The sun will rise no faster with you tapping your foot at its pace.” he lowered his voice and continued to address the anxious children, “I am so very proud of all of you. Know that no matter what is discovered today, the light of Soleil will always shine with joy at what you have and will accomplish in your lives.” Shon wondered if any of the adults realized that their constant efforts to comfort their nerves seemed to be having the opposite effect. Shon’s palms were sweating as he closed his papers, and he had to wipe them on his pants to try and distract himself from his pounding heart.
“Follow me,” Branston turned away, walking through the middle of the crowd that had suddenly grown hush at his movement towards the door. Veon-Zih gave Shon one last pat, then slipped Shon’s pack from his back and tossed it over his own shoulder. Letting his student know without words that he would be waiting for Shon to return, one way or another.
Shon could feel the eyes of the noble Morndancer boring into him as he followed Father Branston through the throng towards the Grand Chapel. What was that man's problem? Who was back? Shon was too distracted by the test to dwell on it, but the man had made his skin crawl, and having him at his back wasn’t helping his nerves.
Father Branston turned to address the crowd as the doors began to swing open, “The testers will enter alone and present their papers to the clerks by the door. Families and friends may wait outside until the test is complete.” Nervous adolescents made their way forward, careful not to jostle one another, many accepting last-minute hugs and well wishes from their families.
Shon thought he remembered the Grand Chapel well from his visit almost six years ago, but was struck again by the beauty of its art. The masterwork statues and carvings were outshone only by the stained glass dome that painted the round floor in bright light of every color he could imagine.
Of the ten gods, eight representatives stood opposite the doors, waiting quietly while the testers handed their papers to the clerks and shuffled nervously in the middle of the majestic holy site. Neither the Temples of Horsa nor Saint Giorgos were present. Their absence wasn’t surprising. The Temple of Saint Giorgos only took those of noble birth and would give their tests separately, and the Temple of Horsa was openly shunned in Clearhelm, its only branch located in the capital city of Tarorn.
Shon handed one of three clerks his papers. She took them with only a glance, hastily scribbling Shon’s name on a long list before handing the book to one of the others who wrote the date in the spot allocated. By the time all the testers had filtered in, there were about twenty young boys and girls huddled in the center of the room.
The Cleric of Hengist, in robes of white and blue, stepped forward to address them. “You are gathered here today in the hopes of being chosen to serve. To serve the province, the kingdom, and most importantly, the gods. But before the gods can choose you to act as their divine hands and voice, you must train and study hard their tenants and virtues. And before even that, your body must be able to hold and direct their power. For a feather that cannot hold ink will never be a quill. This is not a test of your worth but of your natural, innate ability.”
As he spoke, two other Clerics, Father Branston of Soleil and a female in the colors of Lune, stepped forward, each holding something round covered with a dark cloth. The Cleric of Hengist continued, “Very few are born with the capacity to touch the divine, there is no shame in failing.” the Clerics of Soleil and Lune removed the protective coverings and everyone had to shield their eyes from the brilliant light that flared in Father Branston’s hand.
Squinting as his eyes adjusted, Shon could just make out an orb glowing in a bowl in the Abbot’s hands. The Cleric of Lune held a similar sphere, though it appeared dead beside the brilliance of the other. “When we call your name, you will touch the empty vessel,” the Cleric of Hengist gestured towards the unlit stone, “and then you will touch the vessel filled with divine magic,” with his other hand, he gestured towards the light. “Do not hold the stone for longer than a moment. If your body is unable to channel the magic it could do serious harm,” he warned.
“Trase,” one of the clerks called from the door, reading off the list they'd compiled. A tall boy stepped forward on shaking feet. He approached the Clerics, who nodded solemnly, all encouraging smiles gone. Reaching out, he touched the unlit orb, then with a deep breath, reached for the glowing vessel.
Nothing happened. Trase pulled his hands back, and Branston whispered -though all could hear in the stillness of the room- “It’s alright lad, you may go…”
“Anhala,” the clerk called, and a girl jumped before rushing forward to try.
The first six failed before a girl named Gena reached shaking hands to the orbs. As her fingers brushed the light vessel, the dead sphere in her other hand began to glow. She gasped, holding tight to both globes, now both shining brightly.
“Congratulations, my dear, you may choose an order…” the Cleric of Hengist gestured to the altars around the Chapel. Gena pulled her hands back slowly, and the unlit stone died once again. Shon watched as she walked to the altar of Soleil to await the end of the test before beginning her life as an adept in training at the Church.
“Shaclin Ebonheart,” the noble boy Shon often saw at the Temple stepped forward, rubbing his hands on his pants before reaching for the orbs. Nothing. He held on, and Father Branston gently removed the boy’s fingers from the light orb. Shaclin pulled away sharply, clutching his hand to his chest and whimpering. His skin had grown red and blistered.
“I’m sorry…” the Cleric of Hengist whispered.
Shaclin turned away without a word and strode for the door, still clutching his burned hand, silent tears staining his cheeks.
I won’t cry… I won’t… “Shon,” Shon closed his eyes, imagining himself in the Temple chapel with its calm silence and soothing scent of incense. He could almost smell it when he opened his eyes and moved forward.
Time slowed down… it took hours to reach the Clerics. Days to raise his hand to touch the dark orb. Now that he was closer he saw that they were actually crystals, tumbled into perfectly smooth spheres. His palm covered the dead stone, and it felt cool, as though it had just been dug from the ground by adventurous children. He reached for the stone bathed in light, feeling the warmth radiate off it before he even made contact. It wasn’t nearly hot enough to burn, and yet Shaclin’s hand had shown blisters.
Shon touched the stone. The warmth filled his fingers and crawled up his arm. It flooded his body like a vessel being filled with water before flowing out his other arm and down his hand. The dead stone came to life, its coolness replaced by the warmth of the divine magic, using him as its conduit connecting the two.
“Congratulations, son, you may choose an order…”
Time sped back up, and Shon let his hands slide off the stones. “Congratulations,” Father Branston echoed, nodding towards the altar of Hengist, “The rest is up to you.”
Only two others passed the test. A girl with long auburn hair and green eyes had joined the Temple with Shon, and a boy had gone to the Church of Saint Bjarki. They stood by their respective altars as the last of the failed testers left the Chapel. Gaven and Lara managed strained smiles at Shon as they left. He attempted to return them but wasn't sure if he'd managed it. The eight Clerics all breathed sighs of relief as the last left, and Branston and the Cleric of Lune returned the covers over the stones. Though still lit by the light through the colored dome, the Chapel seemed so much darker without the divine light to fill it.
“Four this year! An entire fifth!” the Druid of Cathbad exclaimed, her brown and green robes rustling as she danced in place.
“Yes, quite remarkable. Twice the average.” the Cleric of Saint Bede agreed. Though he resisted dancing for joy.
The Cleric of Hengist was also smiling broadly, though when he spoke, it was to the kids, “You may spend the afternoon with your families. Report to your chosen order before sixth bell.”
The girl who also joined the Temple of Hengist, Daisy, gave Shon a warm smile and hurried with the others to retrieve her papers. Now marked with their status as divine conduits. Shon walked behind them, his nervousness replaced with excited anticipation. He felt somehow full and empty all at once. With one door open, another had closed...
Shon stepped into the morning light to find the crowd had cleared. Only the three families of his fellows remained, hugging and kissing their children in joy. “We shall have a feast fit for the King!” Daisy’s father exclaimed, lifting her into the air as if she were no more than five. Shon’s stomach growled.
“Hungry?” Veon-Zih asked, stepping out from beside the door and presenting Shon with his pack. Shon felt his cheeks go red, and Veon-Zih laughed, rubbing his own belly, “I could use some lunch myself.”
Hastily Shon dropped his pack and rifled through the outside pockets, finding the cookies in the last one left to check. They were cracked and crumbled in some places, but he held one out to Veon-Zih regardless.
The Monk took it with a bow, “I am trying to resist being disappointed.” he confessed as Shon eagerly shoved his own broken cookie in his mouth.
He nearly choked, and Veon-Zih patted his back hard, not helping. Shon managed to swallow, then stammered, “Master, I…”
Veon-Zih interrupted with a laugh loud enough to fill the empty entryway, “Just promise me you won’t let your new studies dull your old. I plan on testing you with each visit.”
"Visit?" Something Shon couldn’t name filled his chest with warmth reminiscent of the divine light, "Test? You..." He thought he might burst with barely contained hope. No one could be so blessed... "You'll still train me?" Shon asked.
“I happen to be good friends with one of your future teachers at Hamerfoss.” Veon-Zih stated for the first time, “I’m sure he'll welcome my visits. If you'll have me…”
Shon didn’t have words for an answer. Instead, he lunged forward, wrapping Veon-Zih in the first and only hug he could remember giving anyone.
--- Table of Contents ---
All comments and communication are welcome and wanted.

♣♣♣ Message ♣♣♣
If you are looking for an exciting mix of PVE and PVP, come checkout ThugsArk Cluster! We have 9 PVE maps and 3 PVP maps, all clustered together. The PVP maps have higher rates and better drops to encourage PVP. We have active admins willing to assist, and a vibrant community of active players. Come check us out!
Please keep in mind, once you attempt to join, your game will need to download all of the mods and this can take a while and multiple attempts of joining. This is Steam, not the servers in the cluster.
♣♣♣ Discord ♣♣♣
Join our discord for updates and more: https://discord.gg/SdRr9SCW4f
♣♣♣ How To Join ♣♣♣
Come play Ark with us on Thug's Ark Cluster:
To add the ARK's to your in-game favorites, open steam, click View on the top left, then Servers. Click the favorites tab and click Add A Server. Add the servers below individually:
♣♣♣ PVP ♣♣♣ Ragnarok - pvpve.thugsark.com:4726 Abberation - pvpve.thugsark.com:4727 Genesis - pvpve.thugsark.com:4730 Genesis 2 - pvpve.thugsark.com:4732
♣♣♣ PVE ♣♣♣ Island - pvpve.thugsark.com:4725 Crystal Isles - pvpve.thugsark.com:4728 Extinction - pvpve.thugsark.com:4729 Valguero - pvpve.thugsark.com:4731 Lost Island - pvpve.thugsark.com:4736 Fjordur - pvpve.thugsark.com:4737
Then open the game, click Join Ark, and filter by favorites on the bottom left. You should then see the servers listed to join.
You can also use these clickable links to join the game directly:
♣♣♣ PVP ♣♣♣ Ragnarok - steam://connect/pvpve.thugsark.com:4726 Abberation - steam://connect/pvpve.thugsark.com:4727 Genesis 2 - steam://connect/pvpve.thugsark.com:4732 Genesis - steam://connect/pvpve.thugsark.com:4730
PVE: Island - steam://connect/pvpve.thugsark.com:4725 Crystal Isles - steam://connect/pvpve.thugsark.com:4728 Valguero - steam://connect/pvpve.thugsark.com:4731 Lost Island - steam://connect/pvpve.thugsark.com:4736 Fjordur - steam://connect/pvpve.thugsark.com:4737 Extinction - steam://connect/pvpve.thugsark.com:4729
Your game will then begin to download the 12 mods we have (13 on Gen2 for element stack). This may take a while and you might have to attempt to join many times. It is more ideal to click the mod links below and subscribe to all of them. That way steam automatically downloads them.
♣♣♣ Discord ♣♣♣
Join our discord for updates and more: https://discord.gg/SdRr9SCW4f
♣♣♣ PVP Rates ♣♣♣
7x Experience
6x Harvest
20x Baby maturity
Greatly Lowered mating interval
Max increased Supply Drop quality
♣♣♣ PVE Rates ♣♣♣
5x Experience
4.5x Harvest
15x Baby maturity
Lowered mating interval
Slightly Increased Supply Drop quality
♣♣♣ Admin ♣♣♣
I'm an active and responsive admin that only plays on the PVE maps when I have time. Most of my time is spent working on the cluster. I do not PVP or interfere with PVP or server politics. You have free reign to raid and attack whoever you want.
I am open to any suggestion submitted in the discord. We can vote on changes to the cluster as a community.
♣♣♣ Rules ♣♣♣
All of our rules are outlined in the discord #Rules channel. Of coarse we have the basics: Don't be racist, sexist, homophobic, or anything like that. Smack talk is allowed, but keep it classy.
More rules to be determined if necessary.
♣♣♣ Plugins ♣♣♣
Cross cluster chat
Points & shop with cross-server DB for points.
Structures Limit
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♣♣♣ Mods ♣♣♣
Subscribe to all here:
https://steamcommunity.com/sharedfiles/filedetails/?id=2578360212
Structures Plus: https://steamcommunity.com/sharedfiles/filedetails/?id=731604991
Platforms Plus:
https://steamcommunity.com/sharedfiles/filedetails/?id=719928795
Awesome Spyglass:
https://steamcommunity.com/sharedfiles/filedetails/?id=1404697612
Dino Storage:
https://steamcommunity.com/sharedfiles/filedetails/?id=1609138312
Death Recovery:
https://steamcommunity.com/sharedfiles/filedetails/?id=751991809
Lethals Reusables:
https://steamcommunity.com/sharedfiles/filedetails/?id=1967741708
Castles Keeps &Forts:
https://steamcommunity.com/sharedfiles/filedetails/?id=1814953878
Ultra Stacks:
https://steamcommunity.com/sharedfiles/filedetails/?id=761535755
Sheep Grinder:
https://steamcommunity.com/sharedfiles/filedetails/?id=2109876363
Auction house:
https://steamcommunity.com/sharedfiles/filedetails/?id=731604991

[←Chapter 46] [Cover Art] [My Links] [Index] [Discord] [Subreddit] [Chapter 48→]
Efrain was left, more or less, with two things left to teach. First was the more complex magical motion, how to draw flows and glide things along them. The second was how that applied to the wondrous black metal, and then to shape it into whatever she had seen.
Efrain, not for the first time, wished that he’d seen the knife, that way he wouldn’t have to rely on the girl’s amateur talents. There was a good chance that she would not be able to construct it soundly or missed crucial details that were essential. It was a risk, giving her this greatly expedited tutelage, then making her build a magic tool with nothing but educated guesswork. Practically like explaining pulleys and counterweights, and then asking a student to design an elevator.
He didn’t let his mind rest on it for too long - he had enough horrors today without contemplating what lay beyond the stone. Still, it weighed on him, as even moving the water around was noticeably more difficult than it would’ve been in the free air. He set out another filled bucket and an empty one, provided gratis by the workers.
“Are you having fun yet?” he said aloud, drawing the attention and a few nervous chuckles.
“It might be good for you to listen in,” he continued, “magic is here, has been here, and will continue to be here long after any of us are gone. One of these principles might save your life one day?”
After a few moments, a younger member hesitantly spoke.
“Are there any schools? To teach magic,” he said, before immediately trying to shrink back into the crowd.
Efrain regarded him as he considered the question.
“Why? Do you have an interest?”
The men around him laughed, and the boy’s face flushed as he locked eyes with what must’ve been a very attractive bench.
“Yes. There are, and were, schools. The greatest was the Angorrah Academy in the capital, but it has long been ransacked and converted to other uses. Centuries ago, now.”
The men were listening with interest now. Efrain wasn’t surprised, given the way the church stepped on the toes of history when writing its edicts.
“Yes. Angorrah used to be a heart of learning of all kinds,” he said, gesturing off to the western mountains, “magic, science, the arts, craftsmanship. The academy was beautiful, in its way. Still… what happened happened.”
“The night of the burning tree?” one of the older men ventured.
“Indeed,” Efrain said, “the night of the burning tree. A bunch of hotblooded youths getting involved in open rebellion. Anyone care to take a guess at what the seniors were doing?”
No one responded, all were looking on with bated breath.
“Nothing. Sitting in their towers, sipping their wine. All the while a bunch of idiots painted a target on all of our backs, and they did nothing to stop them.”
He was conscious of the potential hypocrisy he was engaged in. It was only a couple of years after the night of the burning tree when he had awoken in his new body. For all he knew, he could’ve been one of the idiots involved. He would like to think that he was not so stupid as to burn the most holy symbol of the church. But there was no way to know for certain.
“Then the purges began,” he said, “I had left the city before. I saw the writing on the wall.”
“But that would mean you’re hundreds of years old,” protested one of the men.
Efrain looked at him, the other men looked at him, and the man faded back with a quiet ‘oh’.
“Yes, I’ve lived for a very, very long time,” he said, stretching as he did, “there’s several different ways you can go about it, but… well, the results speak for themselves.”
Now that caught their attention, as tales of immortality often did.
“Before you ask, there’s a steep price for extended life, regardless of which way you do it. Not to mention, it’ll most likely take decades upon decades of study, and help from others besides. Even with all that, it’s still a very risky business. One mistake, and you’ll be greeting death early.”
That seemed to quell most of the curiosity, though not extinguish it completely.
“Well,” he said, “back to the original question. As for the remaining schools of magic, you’re not likely to find anything west of the mountains. The church’s hold is too strong for any sort of formal study to flourish there. The best one would be…”
Efrain tapped his mask as he ran through the locations, hoping that two centuries hadn’t wiped them away.
“Karkos, to the south east,” he said, “though I haven’t been there for many years. I recall… well, there was the idea of a school once. If you’re really interested, that would be the place to try.”
Some of the men nodded thoughtfully, though Efrain doubted any of them were actually vying to go.
“What can magic do?” said one of the younger ones again, “can it make swords sharp, or on fire or…”
He stuttered out as he reached the limits of his creativity. Efrain didn’t mind - it was nice to have queries to take his minds off of recent events.
“Magic weapons?” he said, mentally thumbing through his collection of knowledge on the topic, “yes, you could. Most ordinary weapons can be infused with magic, with appropriate skill. As for things custom made for the purposes of handling magic, well…”
He thought back to his vault in his holdfast, missing home, as cold and isolated as it might’ve been. There were a handful of weapons in his collections, usually cursed, but little that he would actually use. They were mostly there for preservation and study, rather than actual warfare. His armoury on the other hand had enchanted items, but they tended to be more along alchemical lines rather than physical ones.
“They are rare, quite rare. Some of you are steel workers, I would think?” he said, witnessing a few nods, “well then, how many years would it take to become a good one, usually?”
There was a smattering of guesses, until a big, keg-chested man offered “five or tener’ years, depends.”
“Then I’m sure you can imagine, my friend,” Efrain said nodding, “combine learning magic and smithing, then learning how to weave the latter into the former. Many, many years. True master enchanters and magesmiths are not something seen since Angorrah’s golden years, and that was centuries ago.”
He remembered the site of the great forge works under the academy, situated near the cistern so that they had a constant supply of water to fuel engines and quenching pools. The smell of hot metal and burning wood barely eclipse the stench of sewage. There had been several doddering craftsmen by the time he’d left, though the days of their magnum opuses were long past.
“Even in my time, they were dying out, and when the Academy was ‘decommissioned’, well, most of their works and knowledge was destroyed. I only knew barely beyond the basics. In any case, most magic weapons are too expensive to be practical. However you could ‘enhance’ in the way you’re thinking’ - holding edges for longer and so on.”
He paused, trying to recall the few examples he’d witnessed first-hand.
“Why, they even used to pre-enchant metal at the academy, so you could temper them faster at higher temperatures, without risking warping or weakening.”
The men began to nod more fervently - this was a subject they were more familiar with.
“But nothing dramatic. To be sure, there are tales. Weapons of light, tools to replant forests and cure illness,” he said, reaching over for the cube.
Watching the streams and rivers of metal form and reform in his hands, he began to recite.
“Long lost, long lost, across the waves,
Past brothers’ tombs and fathers’ graves.
Long lost, long lost, across the sea.
Lands old and rich and everfree.
The first lands where we long to be,
Long lost, long lost, across the sea.
Where all are found, where all is saved.
Long lost, long lost, across the waves.”
“I know that!” one of the men said, “it’s in one of the church books the priest used to sing.”
“Aieadda. It’s an old poem, one of the oldest. It’s one of the few surviving writings from the times of Eblem.”
The name of Angorrah’s founding king turned the last of the bowed heads.
“You’ve been?” said a number of astonished labourers, drawing a mental grin from Efrain. The ‘first lands’ must’ve been a legend to them, something spoken about in terms of gods and myths.
“No, no I’ve not,” he said, “they do exist, far to the south west. Several weeks by ship, if the wind is in your favour. It’s a hazardous crossing. But, if the verses are to be believed, ‘anything’ can be found there. Magic runs strong in that country.”
He lifted up the now solid cube as an example.
“For instance,” he said, “and if this is the metalwork they could do, who knows what else they could create?”
The men were enchanted now, transfixed by stories they’d never heard. But it’d have to wait for later, he thought, as he saw Sorore led by Lillian cut around the corner.
“Right then, back to work. Though you are welcome to listen in as you wish,” he said, as Sorore sat down in front of him, frowning at the two buckets.
“You ready?” he said, and she nodded, “very well, let’s begin.”
“The second lesson of magical motion is as follows…”
For the next half-hour he taught her about the process of drawing flows. How to imagine an invisible line, like carving a channel for the water to follow. How to start from before the mass, and move magic through it, simultaneously pushing the magic through it, and pushing the mass on the magic.
“And to practise that, I’ve brought back your favourite teaching aid,” he said, gesturing to the pair of buckets in front of them.
He thought he detected the hint of a scowl on the girl’s face.
“Quite simple, really, just draw an arc between the two points. We’ll stop when you’ve filled the empty bucket to the best of your ability.”
The hour after that was relatively simple, Sorore imagined a line, drew magic across it, then drew the water across that. A few false starts and water explosions later, she had a steady stream falling into the bucket.
“That’d be useful,” said one of the men, “wouldn’t have to move around the smithy too much.”
“Solid objects get a little more tricky,” said Efrain, “if I taught you how, you’d spend just as much time learning how to dodge wayward tools.”
There was genuine, not nervous laughter this time. Sorore was sitting there, quite focused on the stream, though not particularly tense, watching as the water slowly filtered from one to the other.
“A fun minor lesson,” he said, “try to make a flow with right angles only.”
The girl’s concentration lapsed, spilling water on the cobbles to her annoyance. But regardless, she tried, and largely succeeded in the first part. When she attempted to push water up, it sprayed off past one of the men, leading to it being quickly dropped.
“Any object has mass, and thus momentum. Think of running and rapidly turning around. Takes a lot more effort, doesn’t it? Curves are almost always more efficient. Now, back to it.”
Within another twenty minutes or so, she had filled up the second bucket. The last of the drops were drawn over the arc, and vanished under the surface.
“Well done,” he said, “you now know the basics of moving liquids like water, and even gas like the air around us. Solids get a little more tricky, so there’s really no time to teach you that. When we get to forging the knife, let me handle that part.”
She nodded, beaming at the bucket that was empty less than an hour ago.
“You’re ready,” he said, “now for one little note about this material. This has no resistance to magic. You’ll have to create your own, for reasons that we can discuss later. Two forces, equal, pushing against one another. Are you ready?”
She nodded, fingers twitching in excitement as he handed her the cube.
“Merely make them equal as you can,” he said, “don’t try and-”
The partially liquid cube shot out to the left, which Efrain caught and circled around into the main mass. The girl’s magic was still quite chaotic, and it was potent.
“Try again, two opposite forces at the same time. Like pressing your finger tips against each other. You’re holding it under tension.”
She did so, and a couple of tries later, the cube collapsed into fluid.
“Well done,” he said, despite the gasp she made as she attempted to grab at the fluid, “now comes the hard part. You need to maintain that tension as you guide it along the flow.”
He demonstrated, letting the material pool and coalesce into a streamer that floated into the air.
“This will be tricky. We’ll work at it,” he said, letting it spatter back onto the pavement.
The girl tried, and tried, and tried, and tried. For hours and hours as her face grew pale and sweat once more dripped from her chin. They were well past midday before she managed to get a decent grip on the technique, even though it still vibrated violently.
Efrain was completely unsurprised by the imperfection. Working with material like this was a challenge even for senior students. She had managed it in an afternoon. On its own, she would be considered exceptional, even if she had years worth of theory to catch up on. Efrain seized control and moulded it back into a cube, letting it solidify once more.
“Well,” he said, “you’ve gotten the gist of it. Not so easy, hm?”
She nodded, brushing her hair back and rubbing at her eyes.
“Now comes the really hard part,” he said, with less sadistic, teacherly mirth than he might want to, “You need to create a flow that is the shape of the blade.”
Sorore’s eyes widened at the proposition, and she audibly gulped.
“How?” she said.
“Imagine the shape of the blade in space, and divide it up into flows that you can guide the metal to. Simple in theory. But far, far from easy. This is the challenge we’ve been leading up to. You need not worry about making it solid, just let me handle that. You need only to work on the shape.”
Sorore was eager to try, if a little daunted perhaps by the complexity of the task. First Efrain managed to make a concept wire piece of the blade with her. They discussed features, the chisel tip, the furled blades, the tang of the blade. The small rivulets and channels she’d seen in her ‘visions’ of it.
Then came the actual ‘forging’ of it, and by the Lost, was it difficult. Attempt after attempt after attempt fell apart, the girl growing grey by the exhaustion. As the light around them began to darken, they stopped, adjusted and retired. All to no avail.
“I just can’t…” she said, face red with effort after the latest attempt, “there’s too much to keep track of.”
Efrain had watched, with occasionally gentle prodding, as the girl attempted to fill in the gaps. The actual flow wasn’t particularly difficult, but forming the total structure of the blade, while maintaining cardinal paths for the metal to follow was clearly beyond her level. Efrain sighed - at least now, he had an idea of what the shape was and could make a good approximation of what was needed.
It was unfortunate that the young girl didn't manage to fully develop the skill over the afternoon’s course, but it was hardly unexpected. He had been pushing her far too hard, and at this point it was probably going to be more economical to just simply create the blade himself. It wouldn't be perfect, but he had to hope that it would be enough for the door.
"Well,” he said, “ it would appear that we’ve run out of time. Good progress despite. I think I'll try to finish the rest of it.”
As he’d expected, the dismissal made the young woman's shoulders slump further. He was almost tempted to reach out to her, but the ever-present glare of Lillian dissuaded him. She would get over it, assuming they all survived, and for that, he needed the knife. Soroe was led away into the afternoon, and Efrain was left to find a solution he wasn’t entirely sure existed.
Within a few minutes he had managed to get the basic shape, the details, however, were an entirely different story. Try after try after try, he spent what hours he had attempting to get every single detail he could. Night was oncoming before he had something he thought might work. The actual utilisation and technique he hoped weren’t as important as the structure. Efrain was not looking forward to the most likely outcome - the first usage of magic would immediately revert the solid metal to fluid.
Sighing, he finally rose, bizarre blade in his hand. With a nod to the rest of the labourers, well at work repairing blades and mending armour, he departed to the church. The remainder of the townsfolk were littered about, preparing for the siege. If they were lucky, they had a few more hours before the attacks began, but that did not still the fear obvious in their eyes.
Efrain crossed into the main hold of the church, and made his way to the stair door. Innie picked herself up off the stones and walked beside him.
“The child?” Efrain said, looking back towards the medic bay.
“Leave her,” said the cat, “she’s needed, and the happiest I’ve ever seen her. Did you have any luck?”
“She came close. Somewhat,” Efrain said, letting the black blade catch the light, “I finished it.”
“Oh that’s comforting,” said Innie, “using a tool you finished.”
“If you have a better suggestion,” Efrain responded with a snort, “we can’t get much more desperate than we are now. Is this or roof.”
“I'd rather fight them here on, at least that way I can burn the church down while I die,” she said.
The catacombs greeted them - dark, cold, and smothering. The duo came before the black stone wall, Efrain glancing over to check if there was nothing he’d missed. Finding that his powers of observation were sound, he raised the blade tip to the smooth black stone.
“Here we go,” he said.
[←Chapter 46] [Cover Art] [My Links] [Index] [Discord] [Subreddit] [Chapter 48→]

Notion has emerged as an essential writing tool over the past few years. It already allowed users to manage virtually every aspect of the content creation process in an easy to use interface. That’s why I was excited to see that Notion just lauched its AI tool, Notion AI. But what exact is Notion AI and what are the potential uses of Notion AI for writers? Read on to learn more!

What is Notion?

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Notion is a digital workspace that allows you to organize and manage various aspects of your life, including tasks, projects, notes, and more. It is a flexible, all-in-one platform that combines the functionality of various productivity tools, such as project management software, note-taking apps, and databases, into a single workspace.
Notion features a customizable interface that allows users to create pages, databases, and templates that suit their specific needs. It also supports a wide range of integrations with other tools and services, such as Google Drive, Trello, and Slack.
Notion is available on desktop and mobile devices, and it offers both free and paid plans with varying levels of features and capabilities. Its popularity has grown rapidly in recent years, making it a popular choice for individuals, teams, and businesses looking to streamline their workflows and increase productivity.

What is Notion AI?

Notion announced on February 22, 2023 that all users could access notion’s latest tool, Notion AI.
Notion AI is an artificial intelligence assistant that can be used natively within Notion documents, spreadsheets, or other Notion products. Notion AI uses the same GPT-3 language model that is behind ChatGPT.

What Are The Features of Notion AI?

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Notion AI contains a number of features designed to enhance productivity for writers within Notion.
Notion AI allow users to:
- Create a content calendar to plan ahead and stay organized with your blog posts.
- Write catchy headlines that will grab your readers’ attention and encourage them to read further.
- Use visuals, such as images and videos, to make your blog posts more engaging and memorable.
- Make sure your blog is mobile-friendly, as more and more people are accessing content on their smartphones and tablets.
- Use social media to promote your blog and reach a wider audience.
- Engage with your readers by responding to comments and encouraging discussion on your blog.
- Focus on a niche or specific topic to establish yourself as an expert in that area.
- Collaborate with other bloggers or brands to expand your reach and bring new perspectives to your blog.
- Use SEO techniques, such as keyword research and meta descriptions, to improve your blog’s visibility on search engines.
- Experiment with different types of content, such as listicles, how-to guides, and interviews, to keep your blog fresh and interesting.
You can see a full list of the current Notion AI features in the screenshots below:

Notion AI Pricing

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Anyone (including users with a free Notion plan) can try Notion AI for free, in order to test its capabilities before purchasing the add-on subscription.
However, once you’ve used all your complimentary Notion AI responses, you will see a message that a Notion AI add-on subscription is necessary to continue using AI features. You’ll then need to purchase the Notion AI add on.
The Notion AI add-on costs $8 per member / month for users choosing the annual plan (an additional $96 per year) if you already have a paid Notion account.
If you have a paid Notion plan and choose to purchase the Notion AI add-on but pay with monthly billing, or decide to keep your free Notion account and only upgrade to receive Notion AI, you will be charged $10 per member / month ($120 per year).

How Can Writers Use Notion AI?

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Having experimented with Notion AI (both as an early beta tester and using the plan currently available to all users), here are some of the top use cases demonstrating the value of Notion AI for writers:
​

1. Summarizing Written Content

Notion AI offers an easy to use, one click command, that automatically summarizes a portion of text highlighted.
For the purposes of this example, I entered the text of a recent WSJ article, Fed Minutes Show Most Officials Favored Quarter-Point Rate Rise.
​
The original article text is listed below:
Most Federal Reserve officials thought slowing the pace of interest-rate increases at their meeting three weeks ago offered the best way to balance the risks of doing too much or too little to combat inflation, but some warned against the hazards of slowing or stopping rate increases too soon.
“A number of participants observed that a policy stance that proved to be insufficiently restrictive could halt recent progress in moderating inflationary pressures,” said the minutes of the Jan. 31-Feb. 1 meeting, released Wednesday.
Fed officials unanimously approved raising their benchmark federal-funds rate by a quarter percentage point to a range between 4.5% and 4.75% on Feb. 1. That increase followed six larger increases, including a half percentage point in December.
Reserve Chair Jerome Powell said Wednesday the central bank will raise interest rates a quarter-percentage-point. Powell said more increases will likely be needed to continue lowering inflation.
The minutes of the gathering said that “almost all participants agreed that it was appropriate” to raise rates by a quarter point, or 25 basis points. Many of these officials “observed that a further slowing in the pace of rate increases would better allow them to assess the economy’s progress… as they determine the extent of future policy tightening,” the minutes said.
But a few participants favored or would have also agreed to a larger half-point move, the minutes said. “The participants favoring a 50-basis-point increase noted that a larger increase would more quickly bring the target range close to the levels they believed would achieve a sufficiently restrictive stance,” the minutes said.
Their discussion suggested another increase of a quarter point was likely at their next meeting on March 21-22. Since then, new data indicated stronger economic activity and slower progress on inflation than previously expected, which could keep the Fed raising rates longer than anticipated before the latest reports.
At the time of the recent meeting, Fed Chair Jerome Powell was facing increasing skepticism from investors over whether the central bank would continue raising rates because economic activity had been mixed around year’s end, with signs that consumer spending had moderated and weakness in the hard-hit housing sector was spreading to manufacturing. Investors were also anticipating rate cuts later this year.
The Fed raises rates to combat inflation by slowing the economy through tighter financial conditions—such as higher borrowing costs, lower stock prices and a stronger dollar—that curb demand.
Most Fed officials projected in December that they would raise the fed-funds rate to 5.1% this year, which would imply quarter-point rate increases at their next two meetings, in March and May. More than a third of officials anticipated lifting the rate above 5.25%. No officials projected rate cuts this year.
Some officials at the meeting observed that any continued easing in financial conditions could require the Fed to raise rates to higher levels or keep them at higher levels for longer than anticipated.
In the three weeks since they met, fresh U.S. economic reports showed that hiring and retail spending surged in January. The unemployment rate fell to 3.4%, a 53-year low, surprising economists who have long anticipated that Fed rate increases would slow economic growth soon. Economic growth also has rebounded in Europe, further easing worries of a global recession this year.
As a result, investors now expect the Fed to lift the fed-funds rate to around 5.4% in June–more than central bank officials had projected in December.
Inflation’s swift decline late last year also stalled in January. The 12-month inflation rate edged down to 6.4% last month from 6.5% in December and a recent high of 9.1% in June, according to the Labor Department. The department’s widely followed gauge, the consumer-price index, rose a sturdy 0.5% in January from the month before, a sign of still strong price pressures.
Two Fed presidents said last week they would have supported a larger half-point rate rise at the last meeting, rather than the quarter-point increase approved. One of them, Cleveland Fed President Loretta Mester, said officials aren’t limited to quarter-point steps. “We can move faster, and we can do bigger [increases] at any particular meeting.”
St. Louis Fed President James Bullard also said he would support moving as quickly as possible to raise the fed-funds rate to 5.4%. “I don’t see much merit in delaying our approach to that level,” he told reporters last week.
Most other Fed officials have expressed a preference for quarter-point increases. Richmond Fed President Tom Barkin told reporters last week he liked that approach “because I believe it gives us the flexibility to respond” depending on how the economy evolves.
Mr. Barkin said he didn’t favor moving rapidly to an estimated peak rate before pausing because he isn’t confident the central bank can gauge how much its past rate moves are slowing the economy. “That theory, to me, requires more confidence in understanding” the effectiveness of tighter rate policy “than I have,” he said.
Overall inflation had slowed in recent months largely because of falling prices of energy and other goods. Large increases in housing costs have slowed, but haven’t yet filtered through to official price gauges. Mr. Powell has nevertheless justified continued rate increases by pointing to still-tight labor markets, elevated wage pressures and high inflation for labor-intensive services.
Mr. Barkin noted the surprising strength in January spending and hiring, but said he wasn’t ready to substantially revise his economic outlook because of the potential for unusual seasonal volatility, including a longer holiday spending season in the fourth quarter, warmer weather and changes in how employers are managing their staffing given recent difficulties hiring workers.
Investors’ shifting expectations about the Fed could already be helping the central bank because interest-rate policies work through financial markets. Changes to the anticipated trajectory of rates, and not just what the Fed does at any meeting, can influence broader financial conditions.
Since November, anticipation of a milder interest-rate path led financial conditions to ease somewhat after tightening substantially last year. The average 30-year fixed mortgage rate, for example, jumped from 4% one year ago to 7% in November. It then edged lower, to around 6% earlier this month.
Over the past two weeks, however, financial conditions have tightened again as investors anticipate an interval of higher short-term interest rates. Mortgage lenders have reported rates are returning back to 7% in recent days.
After a few seconds, Notion AI generated the following text summarizing the article:
The minutes of the Jan. 31-Feb. 1 meeting of the Federal Reserve show that most officials favored slowing the pace of interest-rate increases to balance the risks of doing too much or too little to combat inflation. However, some warned against slowing or stopping rate increases too soon. The minutes also suggest that another increase of a quarter point is likely at the next meeting on March 21-22. Fresh U.S. economic reports showed that hiring and retail spending surged in January, which could keep the Fed raising rates longer than anticipated before the latest reports.
Investors’ expectations about the Fed could already be helping the central bank, as interest-rate policies work through financial markets. Changes to the anticipated trajectory of rates, and not just what the Fed does at any meeting, can influence broader financial conditions. Since November, anticipation of a milder interest-rate path led financial conditions to ease somewhat after tightening substantially last year.
Over the past two weeks, however, financial conditions have tightened again as investors anticipate an interval of higher short-term interest rates. Mortgage lenders have reported rates are returning back to 7% in recent days. Two Fed presidents said last week they would have supported a larger half-point rate rise at the last meeting, rather than the quarter-point increase approved.
St. Louis Fed President James Bullard also said he would support moving as quickly as possible to raise the fed-funds rate to 5.4%. Most other Fed officials have expressed a preference for quarter-point increases, as they believe it gives them the flexibility to respond depending on how the economy evolves.
Overall inflation had slowed in recent months largely because of falling prices of energy and other goods, but large increases in housing costs have slowed, but haven’t yet filtered through to official price gauges. Mr. Powell has nevertheless justified continued rate increases by pointing to still-tight labor markets, elevated wage pressures, and high inflation for labor-intensive services.
While not perfect, this is a really good summarization of a complex article/topic. And the Notion AI tool also provided options for further editing this text, including making the summary longer, rewriting the entire summary, or replacing a section of the article.

2. Changing Tone of Text

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Another great feature of Notion AI is its ability to change the tone of text.
For example, I used the following excerpt from a Washington Post article on winter weather:
A strong, intensifying storm system continued its trek across the Lower 48 early Wednesday, unleashing high-impact winter weather that could cause widespread power outages and grind travel to a halt. At least 75 million Americans are under winter storm, ice storm, blizzard warnings or winter weather advisories.
In addition to hefty precipitation in much of the Midwest and parts of the Plains, there could also be snow in notably low elevations — including in areas that rarely see measurable snowfall. Even the Los Angeles County mountains are included in a rare blizzard warning — the first issued by the National Weather Service office there since 1989. Snow levels could descend to below 1,000 feet elevation as extreme anomalous cold at high altitudes whips up a serious elevation storm.
That same lobe of frigid air aloft is also spawning a surface low that’s marching across the country. Over the Upper Midwest and the northern Plains, up to two feet of snow could fall in what the National Weather Service office in Minneapolis is calling a historic winter storm. It could prove to be a top-5 event in the Twin Cities, where blizzard warnings slice through the metro.
On the southern fringe of the snowfall, mild air a mile above the ground will favor freezing rain, with a quarter- to a half-inch of ice accumulation, or glaze, possible in some areas. Parts of the Corn Belt and Michigan are expected to be hardest hit, including places like Dubuque and Cedar Rapids, Iowa, or Lansing, Kalamazoo and Ann Arbor in Michigan.
The storm should finish its cross-country assault in the Northeast late Thursday into Friday, where additional winter storm warnings are in effect for northern New York, Vermont, New Hampshire and Maine.
I then used the Notion AI change tone function, and selected the “casual option”:
The Notion AI tool then quickly generated the following text:
Wowza, we’ve got a major storm system heading across the US of A, bringing some serious winter weather that could knock out power and put a stop to travel plans. That’s no joke, folks! It looks like around 75 million Americans are under winter storm, ice storm, blizzard warnings or winter weather advisories, so you know this is serious business.
And get this, it’s not just heavy precipitation we’re talking about – parts of the Midwest and Plains could get snow, and we’re talking about areas that don’t usually see snowfall. The Los Angeles County mountains are even included in a rare blizzard warning – the first one issued by the National Weather Service office there in over 30 years! The snow could even come down to below 1,000 feet elevation. Yikes!
There’s a lobe of frigid air up high that’s causing all of this, and it’s also spawning a surface low that’s going across the country. In the Upper Midwest and the northern Plains, we’re talking up to two feet of snow in what the National Weather Service office in Minneapolis is calling a historic winter storm. That’s right, it could be a top-5 event in the Twin Cities, where blizzard warnings are all over the place.
On the southern edge of the snowfall, freezing rain is likely, and some areas could see a quarter- to a half-inch of ice accumulation. The Corn Belt and Michigan are expected to be hit hard, including places like Dubuque and Cedar Rapids, Iowa, or Lansing, Kalamazoo and Ann Arbor in Michigan.
This storm is going to finish up with a bang in the Northeast late Thursday into Friday, where more winter storm warnings are in effect for northern New York, Vermont, New Hampshire and Maine. Stay safe out there, folks!
While perhaps a bit over the top, it definitely demonstrates the AI tools ability to create content using different tones.

3. Writing Social Media Posts

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While the previous two use cases demonstrate the Notion AI tool’s ability to synthesize and mimic different forms of text, this next example shows its power to create text based off of very short prompts. Specifically, how it can quickly generate social media posts.
I selected the option from the Notion AI menu to write a social media post. It asked for me to enter a prompt to complete this sentence:
Write a social media post about_____________
And I simply entered “spring cleaning.”
In response, it generated the following social media post (including the hashtags):
Spring is here and it’s time for some cleaning! Whether it’s decluttering your home, organizing your closet, or deep cleaning those hard-to-reach areas, now is the perfect time to get started. A little bit of cleaning can go a long way in making your space feel refreshed and renewed. Don’t forget to donate any items you no longer need to charity or recycle them responsibly. Let’s all welcome spring with a clean and organized home!
#springcleaning #declutter #organization #cleanhome #refreshed #renewed #donate #recycle
While not perfect, I didn’t give the AI tool much information, so I was fairly impressed with this output.

4. Writing a Blog Post

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Similar to the last use case, I wanted to further text the Notion AI tool’s ability to generate written content. So I selected the “write a blog post” option and entered the following prompt:
The tool generated the following blog post:

The Benefits of Jogging

Introduction

Jogging is a popular form of exercise that has numerous benefits for both physical and mental health. It is a low-impact exercise that can be done anytime and anywhere, making it a convenient choice for people of all ages and fitness levels. Jogging is also an affordable form of exercise, as it requires no special equipment or membership fees. In this blog post, we will discuss some of the benefits of jogging and how it can improve your overall health and well-being.

Physical Benefits

Jogging is an excellent way to improve cardiovascular health. It helps to strengthen the heart and lungs, lowers blood pressure, and reduces the risk of heart disease. Jogging also helps to build endurance and increase stamina, which can improve athletic performance in other activities.
In addition to its cardiovascular benefits, jogging can also help with weight loss and weight management. It is an effective way to burn calories and boost metabolism, which can help to shed excess pounds and maintain a healthy weight. Jogging also helps to build muscle and tone the body, giving you a leaner and more sculpted appearance.
Jogging is also good for bone health. It helps to strengthen bones and prevent osteoporosis, a condition that causes bones to become brittle and weak. Regular jogging can also improve joint health and flexibility, reducing the risk of injury and improving overall mobility.

Mental Benefits

Jogging is not just good for physical health, it also has many mental health benefits. It is an excellent way to reduce stress and anxiety, as it releases endorphins that promote feelings of happiness and relaxation. Jogging can also boost self-esteem and confidence, helping to improve overall mood and well-being.
Regular jogging can also improve cognitive function and brain health. It has been shown to improve memory, concentration, and overall brain function, reducing the risk of cognitive decline and dementia in later life. Jogging can also help to improve sleep quality, which is essential for overall health and well-being.

Social Benefits

Jogging can also provide social benefits, as it can be a great way to meet new people and make friends. Joining a jogging group or running club can provide a supportive and motivating environment, where you can connect with other like-minded individuals who share your passion for jogging.

Getting Started with Jogging

If you are new to jogging, it is important to start slowly and gradually build up your endurance. Begin with short, easy runs and gradually increase the distance and intensity over time. It is also important to wear proper shoes and clothing to prevent injury and ensure comfort while jogging.
To make jogging more enjoyable, try listening to music or a podcast while you run. You can also join a jogging group or find a jogging buddy to keep you motivated and accountable.

Conclusion

In conclusion, jogging is an excellent form of exercise that can benefit both physical and mental health. It can improve cardiovascular health, aid in weight management, strengthen bones and joints, reduce stress and anxiety, boost self-esteem and confidence, and improve cognitive function and brain health. Jogging can also provide social benefits, making it a great way to meet new people and make friends. If you are looking for an easy and convenient way to improve your health and well-being, jogging is a great place to start. So put on your running shoes, hit the pavement, and enjoy the many benefits of this simple yet effective form of exercise.
Overall, I was very impressed with how quickly it generated this grammatically correct and well written blog post. It’s worth noting that once the Notion AI tool finishes generating the text, there is a button you can click to make the article longer, which it also does with ease.

5. Finding Action Items

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Last, I wanted to test the “finding action items” tool. To do this, I found a publicly available copy of a county’s meeting minutes over their local water authority (see PDF here):
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I then ran the text through the AI tool, using the “find action items tool”:
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Notion AI generated the following:

• - [ ] Purchase hydrants to replace existing hydrants in the Pinebrook Water System
• - [ ] Complete the activation of the system, replacing the hydrants, and other miscellaneous punch list items to complete the Pinebrook Water Interconnection Project
• - [ ] Engage legal counsel to advise on the assignment from Global Foundries to Onsemi
• - [ ] Request a preliminary meeting with the Poughkeepsie Joint Water Board to discuss issues and concerns regarding the assignment from Global Foundries to Onsemi
• - [ ] Speak to the Deputy County Executive, Ron Hicks in regard to the request to assign the water sale agreement to Onsemi
• - [ ] Consider retaining auditors, RBT to review Onsemi’s financials
• - [ ] Follow up with Ron Haase, Rust & Co. about purchasing the Market Street Plant

Overall, I was very impressed with the ability of the AI tool to generate action items. Since many Notion users (students, office workers, etc.) use Notion for note taking, this seems like an extremely valuable feature.
Conclusion
The examples of Notion’s AI tool make a strong case for adding the Notion AI tool to your writer toolkit! And the examples above only represent a fraction of the total use cases. Notion is already one of the best productivity tools for bloggers, and the addition of Notion AI for writers further cements its place on this list!

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Dragon’s Heart Tower, Level 23, Residence 30. Thacea and Emma’s Bedroom. The Tent. Local Time: 0500 Hours.
Emma Booker
I fucked up.
Big time.
And I had no one else but myself to blame.
You know that feeling when you dive head-first into a project that you had zero doubts would somehow work itself out in the end?
The sudden surge of confidence that comes when you let the indomitable human spirit take the wheel?
Well that was me at 0300 hours when my eyes landed upon the hygiene module, and pictured the inevitable outcome of a steaming hot shower after an entire day of nonstop grinding.
I couldn’t help myself but to fall into the same trap as every other would-be DIY-er. I couldn’t stop the excitement, the sudden surge of energy, and the absolute hyperfixation that came with completing a project that promised nothing but endless positives, at the expense of some time and effort that would prove minimal in the grand scheme of things.
And just like every would-be DIY-er, I was this close to completing the task at hand, before finally reaching a roadblock that inevitably brought everything to a screeching halt.
FINAL STEP: REFER TO [UNDESIGNATED WATER SOURCE] FOR ATTACHMENT OF INTAKE PIPE [EIP23] TO EXTERNAL PUMPING MODULE [EPM-1].
That one, final instruction, decimated me.
Especially as I got to that final step at just shy of 0500 hours, when I finally had the entire damn module set up, only to realize that I had missed out on a vital pre-procedure checklist that I’d purposefully skipped because I’d assumed it would be a non-issue.
ENVIRONMENTAL PREREQUISITE: LOCATE, EVALUATE, AND SECURE A RELIABLE WATER SOURCE.
And that’s why I only had myself to blame for this fiasco.
Because I’d assumed that the availability of a water-source in the dorms would’ve been an open and shut case. It only made sense for me to make that assumption though, as I saw that Thacea had clearly used the dorm’s en-suite to shower just the night before.
It was because of this that I didn’t even bother checking the bathroom to begin with. I thought that whatever was in there could’ve easily fit the hyper-modular fittings of the source-intake pipe.
Things couldn’t have been further from the truth however, as what I saw within that bathroom made me question the very fabric of my own reality.
As within those four marble walls, was nothing.
Nothing, but a series of dull flat marble surfaces, and some strange wall-fittings that looked like something out of a 21st century ‘modern’ art exhibit.
There was nothing here that resembled a tap, or even hinted at the fact that there were even any pipes carrying running water behind those four bare walls.
The only other thing of note here was an unseen light source keeping the bathroom lit.
Aside from that, there was literally nothing else here.
This meant I had only one option available to me.
The most logical and straightforward option, of simply nudging the avinor princess awake just so I could ask where I could find a fucking tap.
Whilst it was the most straightforward thing to do, I just couldn’t get myself to do it.
I’d thought about going up those stairs to nudge the avian awake, to then apologize profusely for disturbing her sleep… but given everything Thacea had done for me thus far, and considering the fact that I was responsible for almost all of the headaches we were currently experiencing, it just felt wrong for me to disturb here at that hour.
So I was left with the inconvenient truth of my circumstances, and decided to just embrace the suck, toughing out the folly of my hubris…
At least, until morning came around.
At that point, I could rest easy in actually asking the princess for pointers on the enigmatic machinations of the bathroom.
Until then, I would sleep.
And hopefully, my shortsighted adventure would bear some fruit when morning rears its ugly head around.

Dragon’s Heart Tower, Level 23, Residence 30. Thacea and Emma’s Bedroom. Local Time: 1000 Hours.
Emma Booker
Good news: Half of my hard work actually paid off.
Bad news: Only half of my hard work actually paid off.
Upon waking up three hours later, forcing my carcass up and back into the suit, I’d managed to flag down Thacea just as she was getting out of bed.
The princess’ reactions to my questions were nothing short of the politeness I’d expected from her.
Which managed to put me at ease as I was getting worried I was starting to get on her nerves with my constant flurry of questions.
The bathroom turned out to be yet another demonstration of the Nexus’ completely unhinged philosophies. As it relied entirely on a mana user’s manipulation of the room to operate. Apparently, whoever designed this place took the whole concept of a modular, personalized room, and just ran with it. Making it so that every aspect of the room relied solely on the mana user to work, as they had to shape, form, and structure the otherwise blank slate before use. This was supposedly done so that the room could be made to fit the precise criterion of a person’s liking. To me however, it just felt like another bizarre concept pulled straight out of the Nexus’ seemingly endless idea-pool of zany, overkill, and mana-addled solutions to problems that sort of existed.
Thankfully, the bathroom didn’t require constant intervention from a mana-user to operate, as certain elements could be permanently turned on.
This included the water mains, which I immediately hooked up the pipes to, as the mana-contaminated water was quickly siphoned into a series of filtration units, all with the express purpose of extracting and removing every ounce of mana present within the water.
This process took about two hours to do.
But by the end of it, I was rewarded for all my troubles by one of the best showers I’ve ever had.
All of the stress, even the constant ticking of the bomb which constantly gnawed at the back of my mind, seemed to fade away for a few short minutes as the warm water washed everything away.
But that about wrapped up the good news.
The bad news however, came in the form of the little MREDD experiment from the previous night.
As I opened the triple-airlocked compartment on my side of the tent, I was met with what could only be described as ‘food’ in name and aesthetics alone.
The soft, white, fluffy loaf of bread had literally become a baton. Whilst the pancakes were now more reminiscent of a mini-frisbee that cracked and crumbled the moment I laid my fingers on them.
My immeasurable disappointment grew the longer I stood there next to the MREDD, and the longer I stared at the small stack of dust that was once a perfectly cooked stack of pancakes.
Beyond this however, I could feel a bit of anxiety seeping in, as the results of the experiment did make me a bit anxious as to the long-term food security of this mission.
Then again, I should’ve expected this result.
It was the first calibration test after all.
“I should’ve expected this, shouldn’t I?” I spoke to no one in particular, but quickly garnered the attention of the EVI who remained within the power armor that currently stood imposingly just a few feet away from me.
“That is correct, Cadet Booker. As you are already aware, the MREDD is designed with multiple calibration protocols in-effect, each which correspond to the type and densities of the foodstuffs to be desaturated. In addition to this, the systems are designed to test the maximal extraction threshold against the subjective palatability gradient with the food safety variable as an integral aspect of these tests. Thus, the first-round extraction procedures dictate that the MREDD will attempt maximal extraction settings, in order to both stress-test the components and systems, as well as to garner data on the mana-extraction process at the maximal setting.”
I blinked rapidly upon hearing the EVI’s explanation being blasted from my suit’s speakers. It felt somewhat jarring turning around to face my armor talking to me. But then again, I should’ve expected it, as I’d yet to set up any other speaker systems within the tent for it to speak through.
“I know, EVI. They already ran everything by me during the briefings. Though I would be lying if I didn’t say I sort of hoped that putting the food under full blast for 7 hours would’ve somehow miraculously resulted in something edible.” I managed out with a sigh.
“Cadet Booker, it is logical to assume that since the extraction of mana from both food and water is indeed viable, that the only point of contention is now the palatability of the foodstuffs rendered through the MREDD.”
“Yeah, well…” I trailed off as I began tapping on the loaf of bread that sounded like styrofoam when I hit it against the armor. “I think you and I have different definitions of palatable.”
“I am confident that the mana-extraction process can be optimized, Cadet Booker. It is at this point that I must ask that you assess the palatability of the designated foodstuff marked CONSUMABLE GROUP A, ITEM 1, for the purposes of data-gathering and analysis.” The AI spoke in a no-nonsense fashion, as I turned around, giving it a look of utter incredulity.
“You want me to try to eat this?” I shot back, tapping on the styrofoam bread for added effect.
“I require data on the palatability of foodstuff A-1 [BREAD] as it is a subjective dataset relying entirely on the input of the human subject.” The AI continued.
I couldn’t help but to shudder at that last line, especially with how it was delivered.
Popular media back home was currently going through another AI-apocalypse phase, with a lot of movies, both immersive and traditional, diving deep into the uncomfortable topics of human-AI relations post AI-takeover.
Being stuck in a bare, white tent, with a monotone, somewhat disgruntled-sounding VI talking to me through a suit of armor several heads taller than me all the while suddenly referring to me as subject really wasn’t doing my movie-binging gremlin brain any favors.
I hesitated for a few seconds, tentatively staring at the bread, then the armor, then back to the bread again, before finally just going for it...
CRUNCH
It did not end well.
“Cadet Booker, I did not require that you actively consume a foodstuff you consider inedible or are uncomfortable eating. I merely needed a dataset for the purposes of this experiment, even if that data-set is a refusal to consume the foodstuff in question.”
I stared back at the VI with unamused eyes and a mouthful of hard-tack currently turning my mouth into the Greater Sahara.
“Damnghit Aeevi.” I managed out with a mouth full of bland, stale bread, before reaching for the water dispenser which thankfully still had some mana-free water inside of it.
“Shall I log A-1 down as unpalatable then, Cadet?” The AI spoke with a hint of disappointment in its voice.
Though I was probably just imagining the actual tone of its voice.
Projection was a heck of a thing after all.
“Yes. And make sure you clarify your intent next time.” I snapped back, as I finished up what limited bits of housekeeping I needed to for now. Which included punting the balled-up undersuit into the washer, getting the wash and dry cycle started, before grabbing a fresh undersuit from the cargo airlock and quickly putting it on.
“I guess the next test with the MREDD includes extracting mana at a slow, sustained rate?” I spoke as I began recalibrating the different electronic components within the undersuit.
“Correct, Cadet Booker. Provided of course, that the foodstuffs are of a similar type, and contain similar properties to GROUP A.”
“Acknowledged.” I responded promptly, shuddering a bit as the haptic feedback finished its calibration cycles. “Alright then, we got a lot of work ahead of us, so let’s get going. System status, SRR?” I asked as per protocol, steadying my hand on the suit’s ‘backpack’.
“Diagnostics running… pending… All systems nominal, Cadet Booker. Status: Ready for standard operations.”
“Operator acknowledges system status after pre-mission diagnostics.” I replied dryly, and with a few final breaths I pulled myself back into the armor. “Current objectives? Preferably the ones I listed before dozing off last night?” I continued, as my eyes quickly readjusted to the constant assault on the senses that was the HUD.
“Priority Objective: Locate and Secure Container 10. Current time remaining until activation of the Denial of Sensitive Assets to Unauthorized Parties Protocols… 36 hours, 34 minutes, and 47 seconds.”
“Alright then, let’s pay a visit to our dear old friend… hopefully she’s alive and lucid enough to get us to the bottom of this little predicament.”

Dragon’s Heart Tower, Level 23, Residence 30. Thacea and Emma’s Bedroom. Local Time: 1020 Hours.
Emma Booker
Transitioning from the tent to the marble and cobblestone world of the Academy was always jarring. Opening those external protective flaps to reveal something that wasn’t more bare white paneling and drab gray composalite would probably be something I’d need to get used to.
I got into the swing of things quick enough, as I was met with the likes of Thacea who was busy reading on one of the many ornate seats that formed the mini-living room within our loft.
“Was the water to your liking, Emma?” Thacea asked with a clack of her beak.
“I managed to squeeze in a couple minutes worth of a shower, so that’s a win in my book!” I beamed out. “But with a constant stream of filtered water filling up my reservoirs now, I should be able to get something more substantial later tonight.”
The princess nodded slowly at that. “The lengths to which you need to go, just to attain what we take for granted on a daily basis, is quite remarkable Emma.”
“It is what it is, Thacea.” I shrugged in response. “The very air I breathe needs to be filtered. This whole world, or heck, even your worlds are actively hostile to human life. These measures are something that are cumbersome, and seriously draining to deal with, but it’s necessary. Besides, it’s not as if these measures are something new where I come from. My people have had a history of intrepid explorers, brave pioneers, and foolish thrillseekers who all surge forward into inhospitable domains just so they can crest the next wave, or see what’s over the next hill.” I paused for a moment, as I was tempted to strike a pose, but quickly decided against it. “I’m just furthering a legacy that’s already been established. Or at least, I hope I’m doing that. Heck if I know if I’m actually doing things right. Nine times out of ten, I feel like I’m just making the best of my situation.”
“I can’t say I can understand the appeal of this legacy of actively seeking hostile-domains.” Thacea responded with an equal mix of curiosity and genuine concern. “And I do not know what manner of civilization would result from such a culture, though I do harbor a morbid curiosity to inquire further… However, I can most certainly resonate with your latter statements, Emma. Half of the court politics I contend with simply amounts to making do with the hand you’ve been dealt, of making best of one’s situation, and doing whatever it is in your limited scope and power to maintain life, security, and perhaps some waning semblance of your own personal liberty. It’s a great game, where doubt comes naturally as a result of being a player and not the host.”
There was a small pause that followed Thacea’s response as one point in particular caught my attention more than any other.
It was unfortunate that it was so topical as well, given how if things had turned out any differently, this conversation would’ve moved right on into an hours-long exchange of life and culture.
Thacea mentioning the concept of a great game, immediately brought me back to the conversation with Ilunor the previous night.
“Thacea… would you mind if I consulted you on something?” I began, as the gears in my head began turning now at the first major issue of the day.
The princess seemed to catch on as she leaned forward in her seat intently, and nodded. “By all means.”
“Something happened last night at the workshop, and it wasn’t anything to do with the armorer… though, we can talk about that later.” I took a deep breath as I shelved that topic for another time. “Did you happen to pay any attention to Ilunor’s whereabouts after I left for the workshop?”
“Not particularly, no. Lord Rul-, erm, Ilunor had seemingly remained in his room until Thalmin and I retired to our respective rooms. After that, I simply have no recollection of anything beyond my own domicile.”
“Well, Ilunor followed me to the workshop.” I stated plainly, pausing for a moment to gauge Thacea’s reaction. Of which there really was none as she managed to keep that signature poker-face that was probably second nature to her by now.
“And I’m assuming since you managed to uncover this, that his meddling had failed in some way shape or form?” Thacea shot back coolly.
“Correct. However, here’s where things get complicated. I’ll save the bulk of the events for later, but long story short, that discount kobold decided to use some sort of a projection spell to spook me just as I was in the middle of the weapons inspection with the armorer, and the projection used wasn’t just something a random monster or anything… he purposefully chose to bring out a carbon-copy version of the null.”
Thacea’s face shifted at this, which given how difficult it was to phase her, probably meant her mind was going through the full implications of this revelation.
I pressed on as Thacea urged me to continue with a single nod. “Well, I shot it. And, no, nobody was hurt. Fast forward a chase sequence later, and the armorer eventually managed to corner and capture Ilunor. However, when we pressed him for answers about why he was there to begin with? Well… I think it’ll be better for you to see for yourself.”
It was with this that I brought out my data-pad, and began replaying the relevant scenes for Thacea to see.
Starting from the brief spats between Ilunor and the armorer, all the way to my confrontation with the diminutive lizard, Thacea’s gaze remained completely transfixed. She did flinch a bit when the footage finally went over my dealings with the lizard, and Ilunor’s sudden shift in persona as I pulled out the library card and began talking his language.
Yet despite being inundated with this sudden flood of information, with a completely unexpected tangent, she soon responded cooly and without much in the way of a delay. “This complicates matters.” She began slowly. “This entire situation calls for a complete reevaluation of the dynamics of this peer group, and how we need to approach Lord Rul-, Ilunor.” Thacea promptly corrected herself before continuing. “There’s a great number of layers to this unexpected development, each of which hints at a greater game being played here, and points at the fact that there are a great number of interested parties beyond just Ilunor.” The princess took a moment to let out an exasperated coo, her eyes finally moving away from the tablet and back to me. “You must understand as well as I, that Ilunor’s actions do not constitute a scheme of his own making, correct?”
“That I do.” I nodded simply. “The fact that he’s even bothering to do this in the first place is outside of his whole I’m above you persona. I’m not sure if the same rings true here, but where I come from, becoming a spook is not something that most people in high and mighty positions would ever stoop down to. Besides, I think we have a lead. I don’t think a student would actively defer a bit of punishment from a lower level administrator, in order to fast-track it to the highest authorities if they weren’t in cahoots with them.”
“This coincides with my observations of these developments as well, Emma.” Thacea responded with a resonant chirp. “To add to this, his knowledge of the null is most certainly not circumstantial, and considering he was absent from our adventures the previous day, his knowledge of this creature would hint to either the feeding of information via a higher benefactor, or a direct observation of our activities from afar. Either way, this does not bode well.”
“This leads me to what I wanted to consult you on, Thacea. If Ilunor’s out there waiting for us right now, would it be best if we confronted him outright in front of Thalmin or-”
“No.” Thacea interjected sharply, and with a certainty that was almost uncharacteristic of her. “Confronting Ilunor out in the open, in front of others not privy to you and the Vunerian’s current game, would be outright suicide to the dialogue you’ve managed to broker with him the previous night. You’ve managed to prove yourself as not just another pawn, but a player in the game, at least in Ilunor’s eyes. It would be wise to maintain that momentum, Emma. By continuing this line of dialogue with him in private, there is a higher likelihood the Vunerian will divulge more information as he speaks to you frankly, beyond what his current facade will allow. This is now a matter between you and the Vunerian, as Thalmin and I are not privy to these political transactions.”
I couldn’t help but to mimic the princess by gripping my forehead as well, letting out a sigh as the dread of complex court politics had begun seeping in faster than I expected. “That shouldn’t be too hard to do. I’ll just let that situation slide for now, making sure not to mention my dealings with Ilunor when he’s around, and focus instead on our other problems. It’s not like we have a shortage of other things to worry about after all.” I sighed sharply.
“That is an acceptable plan. ” Thacea responded promptly as she stood up and began straightening out her uniform. “Right then, shall we proceed?”

Dragon’s Heart Tower, Level 23, Residence 30. Living Room. Local Time: 1025 Hours.
Emma Booker
As we exited the bedroom, we were once more met with a similar sight reminiscent of the previous day’s. As there, on the couch, were the bickering pair that had seemed to have carried over their arguments from the previous night.
Except this time, the context seemed to have thankfully shifted to something new.
“Every minute I waste in this room for the sake of that Earthrealmer is another minute that I grow increasingly more famished. It is unbecoming of a noble to sit in waiting for a commoner. In fact, it should be the other way around. Or perhaps this is yet another one of your Havenbrockian reforms that test the Nexus’ patience, Prince Thalmin?” I could hear Ilunor snapping at Thalmin just as we made our way into the living room proper.
Thalmin, amazingly, resisted responding in kind as he got up as soon as we made our way towards the pair.
“We were waiting for the both of you, but it should be fine. Should we miss the breakfast, there is always an a la carte menu we can-”
“I have met the criterion for your unlawful detainment, mercenary. Thus, I shall take my leave.” Ilunor promptly jumped off from the couch and began trotting his way over to the door, his little legs were clearly attempting to generate some sort of a forceful series of thumps as he did so, but only resulted in a light series of taps given his diminutive size.
“Hold on a minute there! That wasn’t our agreement! You agreed to-”
“I agreed to wait for the Earthrealmer and the tainted one. I have no other reason to be here. Now, I must resume my extracurriculars. You lot can do whatever it is you get up to. I will be having none of it.” Ilunor turned to face the Lupinor one final time, before slamming the front door shut, and skittering off.
This made things so much simpler as it meant we were in the clear for now.
“I’m sorry princess.” Thalmin turned to face Thacea. “I thought we might be able to squeeze something out of him yet, but the Vunerian continues to be as squirmy as a prairie rodent.”
“It’s quite alright, Thalmin.” Thacea began, as she turned towards me as if to confirm whether or not I wanted her to proceed on my behalf. To which I did. “There are a few matters we must address regarding Ilunor, which I suggest we do over a short breakfast, as we have even more pressing matters following this.”
After a reluctant pause, the lupinor prince nodded in agreement, leading to both of us sitting down-
ALERT: LOCALIZED SURGE OF MANA-RADIATION DETECTED, 275% ABOVE BACKGROUND RADIATION LEVELS
-and a privacy screen being brought down soon after.
“So, shall we talk about this over a brunch platter?”

The Transgracian Academy for the Magical Arts, En Route to the Healing Wing. Local Time: 1050 Hours.
Thalmin’s reactions were nothing short of what I’d expected.
There was absolute outrage, followed by an unrepentant series of growls, capped off with barks of seething anger at the same clips I’d played for Thacea earlier.
The mercenary prince was perhaps even more uncomfortable than I was at my entry into this game, as it was clear Thalmin despite his noble heritage, wasn’t really one to dabble in it at all.
“I’m telling you Emma, this is a dangerous path forward. Are you certain you are making the wisest choice?” He spoke once again, continuing the conversation from earlier, underneath yet another privacy screen Thacea was maintaining as we approached the medical wing.
“I don’t like it either, Thalmin. There’s nothing more I hate than playing politics, but it’s unfortunately a pill I have to swallow if we’re going to get to the bottom of the issues surrounding Ilunor. I mean, I overheard you guys arguing late into the night. I really don’t think confronting him normally is going to get us anywhere.”
The lupinor let out a sigh of defeat at that, as he lowered his head in my general direction. “I can’t fault that logic, Emma. Perhaps… speaking his language, as you put it, would bring us some resolution to this frankly irritating problem. However…” The Lupinor’s voice lowered, just as we were about to reach the doors to the healing wing proper. “I know how these games work, Emma. It’s dangerous, so make sure you tread lightly, and just know that I, as part of your peer group, am here to support you should the need arise.” The prince reassured me with a smirk, as we pushed past the double doors and into the medical wing proper.
Or at least, that’s what I thought, as we entered what looked to be a massive circular room with multiple branching hallways connected to it like spokes on a wheel. In typical Academy-fashion however, the room really wasn’t at all modest with its size. As it went up a solid twenty or so stories, with high pillars piercing straight up into a marble-lined rotunda with moving murals painted on it like some grand cathedral. Between these pillars were little outcroppings where several gargoyles were perched.
Gargoyles which I could swear were looking straight at us.
ALERT: LOCALIZED SURGE OF MANA-RADIATION DETECTED, 425% ABOVE BACKGROUND RADIATION LEVELS
My gut was proven right again, as it only took a few seconds after our entry for these stony beasts to come to life, with multiple bursts of mana-radiation accompanying what could only be described as the sounds of cracking concrete.
Soon enough, several large gargoyles made harsh, heavy landings right in front of us. The two closest to us held out their arms, before zapping two stony spears into existence, crossing them in a clear display to stop us from going any further.
“Halt!” A voice commanded from above, as a shadowy figure landed right in front of the two gargoyles blocking our path. The figure’s face was hidden underneath an unnatural shadow casted by his hood, revealing just two trapezoidal lights where his eyes should be. “The healing wing is currently off-limits to visitors. So state your ailment, or leave where you came from.” The voice boomed, echoing throughout the large open space, as all eyes within the room now landed squarely on us.
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(Author’s Note: Hey guys! We see more glimpses of Emma's quality of life getting set up here, and we're now making our way over to the apprentice! I hope you guys enjoy! :D The next Chapter is 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 33 of this story is already out on there!)]

Hi, last year around spring break I was out on a walk when I saw a newly hatched turtle, caked in mud, and fully dried out. It seemed he was trying I cross the road, but didn't make it all the way.
I was always taught to just help them across and keep on moving, but the house across the street had highly aggressive dogs. Being the dumb fool I am, I brought him home with the intentions of taking him to a wildlife rescue.
Unfortunately, after buying all the supplies needed to house him, I started to grow attached and because I still live at home my parents told me should keep him.
Against my better judgment, I did. I know this is very wrong and I messed up, but I don't want my little guy to have to suffer because I'm a dumb human.
His name is Tydeus, like the word tide combined with Deus ex Machina, because when I got him I was going through a hard time and he brought lots of joy into my life. He is a little over a year old, and is a Western Painted Turtle. His carapace measures about 3.5-4 inches. He currently lives in a 35g setup with a sponge filter for a 60g tank, and proper lighting. He is very healthy and friendly, thought he doesn't like eating his vegetables most days. I feed him on varied turtle pellets, mealworms and crickets, varied greens, and occasional fruits such as strawberries and blueberries. Is a very voracious eater, and has no trouble with eating.
He is extremely friendly and social, he knows his name and enjoys being gently pet on his shell. Every time someone walks past his tank he always stops whatever he's doing to come to the edge and greet them.
He is so absolutely perfect and I feel terrible that I need to rehome him as he is my responsibility and I was the one who wrongly took him from the wild.
I'm just struggling to care for him with all the work of highschool, and I'm worried I wouldn't find an apartment that allows aquatic turtles when I go to college. I am a reptie keeper, I have a leopard gecko, I've had a two other rescue geckos, a toad, and a multitude of inverts along with them. I know how to care for him, I'm not in the position to give him the care he deserves.
He's aquatic, and this is my first time keeping an aquatic animal, and due to the fact I found him on spring break, and summer break came relatively quickly, I was able to keep up with water changes and tank cleanings.
I thought because I balanced my other reptiles with school, I could with him too. Over the winter I realized I was wrong. Keeping up with school work, water changes, and prepping for college, alongside giving him the enrichment and socialization he deserves was just too much for me.
He doesn't get water changes as often as he needs, and he rarely comes out to explore and get natural UVB rays. I feel terrible and I know how irresponsible this is, but he deserves to have a good home and life even thought I'm a stupid human who can't give it to him.
Because of this I need him to go to a good home. He has such a big personality and deserves the whole wide world. I won't charge any fees for him, because it's my fault he needs a new place to go, and I'm happy to provide some financial support- as much as I can without a job.
I just want him to have a good life, and I feel I'm not the right fit for him in this stage of my life, I just want to try and take responsibility for my prior mistakes and ensure I can give him everything he deserves.
I live in the Lenexa, Kansas area and an happy to make a short drive or to ship him (as long as the weather permits it)
Thanks for reading my long post- sorry again that my mistakes lead to this.

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Even almost a week later, Yegel was still soaring on the hope from that day. A weight on his eyes that he'd never even noticed had been lifted, leaving him more alert and awake, the whole world more vibrant and colorful.
Of course, the morning after had brought clarity- and an additional helping of stress. Having had the time to calm down and examine it, he was realizing that the fact he now saw humans as people was dangerous- especially with such an important and dangerous screening coming up. If he accidentally sympathized too much in one place, or had a reaction that he would never have had before...
...He still couldn't bring himself to regret it though. Even the fading of his emotional high hadn't erased what felt like an important revelation- that he no longer thought of humans as predators with interesting quirks, but as real, actual people, with true empathy and sapience. They were still predators, still alien in ways he couldn't understand- but now, that didn't feel like the same kind of impenetrable barrier that it used to be.
Still, now he had to be even more careful going forward- regardless of it being the truth, nobody else would believe him about a predator species being fully sapient and civilized. If anything, trying to convince anyone would get him institutionalized- and he was already fighting far too hard to keep himself out of those nightmare-makers for as long as he could manage. At least with humanity being extinct, the topic was unlikely to come up, but he hadn't made it this far in life without preparing for even the unlikely.
Caution was still warranted though, and so he'd been spending his time preparing and watching the manifests for incoming ships- so when he saw a group of scowling figures approaching him from behind at lunchtime, it was less of a shock and more the realization of inevitability.
Exterminators. Just what he needed to deal with today.
Sighing quietly, he fought down the rising panic and instinctive urge to run, and instead pretended not to notice the approaching officers- running never did any good, and trying to fight back or protest would lead to... retaliation.
Their timing was just the worst though- he'd been looking forward to having lunch with his friends, and taking a chance to decompress and relax. He'd been meticulous so far this week at maintaining his stress- other than his newfound indulgence in forbidden predator media- so it wasn't like he was scrambling to calm down. However, he really could use every bit of patience and composure he could get.
The grasping hands roughly pulling him out of the lunch-line, however, clearly didn't care about that, immediately starting to goosestep him through the cafeteria, regardless of the whispers and stares now coming their way.
"Lieutenant Yegel," a vaguely-familiar voice barked harshly as he was shoved forward, "your presence is required immediately. You are coming with us."
A bit late to give him a warning, wasn't it? Especially since he wasn't resisting in the first place. It was just theater to them- reciting something because they were supposed to, despite the outcome having already been determined. It was better to just not antagonize them-
"You know," he couldn't stop himself from saying, "If you wanted a date, you could have just a-"
A massive fist slammed into him, burying itself beneath his ribcage. The words died in his throat as all his air was forcefully expelled, his talons leaving the ground as he bent double over the grey three-toed paw.
"Quiet, predator," the Takkan ground out, slowly removing his forelimb from where it had been buried in Yegel's gut. "you'll only talk if our boss deigns to let filth like you waste our air, got it?"
Wheezing in reply, Yegel fought to try and recover the air that had been forcefully driven out of him, the exterminators yanking him by his wings and dragging him onwards. Perhaps it was good that he hadn't eaten yet- nothing there to have upchucked other than the vile spittle now burning at his tongue.
Guess he must be a new transfer, Yegel thought offhandedly, glancing up to see them approaching a familiar eating area. That would be a useful distraction from the main threat. Fighting down the pain through bitter familiarity, Yegel did his best to relax his feathers and his mind- he'd need all of it for this next mental sparring match.
Ornate doors covered in intricate patterns were thoughtlessly slammed open as the Exterminators dragged him into the private eating area, the shift between industrial flooring and soft, luxurious padding making his dragging talons catch on the delicate textiles. Vibrantly detailed paintings hung amidst sprawling vines imported from Nishtal, cast in cool, fluorescent light that made their rich colorings shimmer as he was dragged by. Even the tables and chairs were carved in the old Krakotl fashions, padding clearly intended for nesting rather than the utilitarian perching of the seats in the mess-hall.
It wasn't perfect though- spots of dull gray industrial walls poked through gaps between the wood, and the carpet was peeling in places, revealing the dirty standard flooring beneath. Despite the valiant attempts, any further inspection made it clear that this was all inserted after this area had already been built- a veneer of elegance plastered over a crude, utilitarian base.
Unfortunately, he did not get the chance to indulge in the comfortable seating, instead receiving a sharp blow between his wings that pushed him to the ground, heavy feet planting themselves on his back and neck to pin him to the ground. Iron grips continued holding his wings, pulling them painfully above his back, where they felt moments away from getting dislocated. Dragging in a rasping breath, his eyes roved to the two exterminators now aiming their flamethrowers at him, a young krakotl female whose adult patterns hadn't even fully come in yet, and a grim-eyed Gojid with distinct scarring, who at least looked somewhat professional as opposed to his partner's obvious anger and twitching trigger.
"Oh, fer Intala's sake," a familiar wheezing voice groaned in exasperation. "Can't trust you Grucknut-heads with anything, can I?"
The Krakotl tottering into the room was puffing what rough, stringy feathers he had left in irritation, a walking cane thunking on the floor as he hobbled over to a table decorated in a carving of two krakotl in flight- though from this angle, it looked more like they were plummeting to the ground. The skin around the geezer's eyes was wrinkled and gathered into such heavy bags that he seemed to be squinting at all the world around him- though Yegel certainly didn't miss the cold, calculating glint buried deep within his eyes.
"Off!" He barked, clacking his way over to where Yegel was pinned, angrily thumping his cane against the very confused Exterminators pinning him down. "Off him, you nut-skulled lunks! Bad enough you can't remember simple instructions, now you make me correct your messes meself? Off I say!"
In the face of the irate elder, the befuddled Exterminator's grips on Yegel loosened, finally letting his wings fall slack enough to make his chest stop feeling like it was stuck in an industrial compressor. Gratefully sucking in air as his rapidly-bruising side twinged, he looked up to find the his crotchety savior kneeling next to him, one wing resting on his cane as he creakily settled into a crouch.
"Sorry about the fuss," he wheezed, flicking his tail angrily at the young krakotl who had been moving forward indignantly. "Ask them to invite somebody to mealtime, and they go and pull this." A shaking wing reached out, offering it's grip to Yegel. "Up you come, boy. I'll not have you eating off the floor like some animal."
Yegel eyed the shaking hand, before planting his wings on the ground, fighting through the pain until he'd pushed himself onto his talons through his own strength. A glimmer of something oily flashed behind the old man's squinting eyes as he watched the display, snorting in amusement when Yegel reached out and pulled the Elder to his feet instead.
"Wasn't much of a request," he commented, carefully ignoring the angry shuffling of the people he knew had flamethrowers trained on him. "I don't suppose you're just wanting to make another sales pitch, are you Geezil?"
"Hah!" the old man barked, toddling over to a cushioned seat, "Always so blunt, Yegel. Straight to business, every time!" The younger krakotl female stepped forward, gently helping the grumbling man into his seat, where he sighed and immediately settled back into the cushions. "Ah, don't worry, got more to say than the usual this time- but first, got a special something for our meal."
With a flick of his wing, he signaled several servers to quietly enter the room, carrying a wide array of dishes and platters that were quickly and efficiently distributed to the relevant tables- both for the old man and Yegel, and even for the other exterminators, who glanced warily between the food, Yegel, and the officer watching everything with a hawkish stare. None of them seemed brave enough to decide what to do- or to stop Yegel as he began moving forward.
Yegel carefully pulled out his own perch, keeping his own movements slow as he settled into the admittedly-luxurious seating. Commander Geezil, the one in charge of the base's Exterminators- and probably one of the oldest individuals still serving within that institution's ranks. He'd heard the rumors about this being an unofficial forced retirement- storing him someplace out of the way when they couldn't make him quit- but he'd come to know the old man too well to believe it. He'd chosen this post himself- and Yegel still couldn't figure out why.
"Sir," the young krakotl started, giving Yegel the stink-eye from across the table, "I must ask what you are doing- you are well aware that he's-"
"Accused, girl," the codger interrupted, frilling his feathers derisively, "by a bitter fleet commander with a record of incidents from his troops longer than his crew-lists- and a penchant for lashing out at those he thinks insulted him." Seeing her shrink back at his harsh tone, his tattered feathers smoothed back down, a shaking wing reaching out and gently patting her shoulder. "Ah, it's politics, grand-daughter- a vile game of inflated egos and pointless posturing. It's like a courtship dance with a Duerten- unpleasant, filled with angry words, with a result that's unpleasant regardless of success or failure- but if you try to skip out, you're liable to lose an eye or worse, hehe."
"Still," she insisted, though much more hesitantly now, her eyes not quite as harsh as they flicked over at him, "with a list of incidents this long, however justified, you must admit it is a clear sign of a violent, unstable nature. If he were to suddenly lash out..."
"I've personally reviewed each incident," the commander snorted, swirling an eating utensil through the bowl in front of him. "Didn't find a single one where he were in the wrong. Besides, were we really concerned about his mind, we got a perfectly good doctor right on-base." His gimlet eyes turned to Yegel, the corners of his beak turned up in a smirk. "You're familiar with her, of course?"
"Indeed," Yegel admitted, keeping his wings at his side despite the tightening of his stomach as the smells of the meal assaulted him. Everything the old man was saying was already known between them- and while it might be simply for the benefit of his new underling, Yegel knew better than to assume there wasn't a different, less obvious purpose. "I've been screened by her multiple times- just like the doctors back on Nishtal, got clear marks across the board."
Her expression was twisted, clearly unwilling to accept that but unable to think of an adequate rebuke for it. "All the same," she started, shifting her wings to roll the fuel tank for her flamethrower from side to side, "I'm uncomfortable with this- it's dangerous to be eating with a predator, especially alone. Just because we're in the room doesn't mean we'll be able to react in time."
The old man's features wrinkled as he scowled, beak half-open, when Yegel jumped on the opportunity. "Actually, I agree," he stated, taking a bit of mischievous glee in the way their expressions popped in shock. "I would feel much safer if someone was sitting with us, to keep me safe."
Beak dropping open, her gaping expression twisted between shock and indignation as she choked at such blatant disrespect- but whatever retribution she thought to unleash was cut short as the old krakotl burst into loud, wheezing laughter, his bony wings thumping against the table as he howled in glee, making the dishes rattle dangerously. His laughter echoed through the room, to the visible discomfort of every other exterminator, half of them sinking back down from where they'd half-risen from their seats.
"Cheeky to the last, you are!" he barked, clutching his chest as he giggled dry, crackling chortles. "Ah, you have a point- best you sit with us, my dear- get introduced with- with this handsome young fella. Yegel, this is Lialu, daughter of my firstborn, and as you can see, the unfortunate inheritor of the branch up his bum." Lialu squawked indignantly, raising a wing as if to smack his shoulder in retribution, but her eyes flicked to Yegel as she paused, slowly settling back into a tense at-ease stance. "You might be working together someday- and if things go well, maybe a little more than that, hehe!" The sour twisting of her cheeks showed exactly what she thought of that idea.
"I'm flattered," Yegel droned dryly, "but I think if she hasn't even gotten her adult patterns, then that's far too dangerous for me."
"As if I'd be interested in such a disgraceful troublemaker in the first place!" she snapped right back, wings half-raised in a gesture of disgust. "tarnishing my career so early would be pointless- and I have no interest in such distractions anyways!"
"Bah, you're fourteen already, better that you start looking for a partner now," the geezer griped, ignoring the way she rolled her eyes uncomfortably. "This work's dangerous, girl- you can't plan for the future as if it's guaranteed, or else you'll find you've missed out." His eyes went a bit glassy and unfocused, staring off into the walls in an melancholic reminiscence. "Regret's a heavy thing to bear, and the years are never kind..."
The two younger krakotl shifted uncomfortably as silence fell, glancing between each other uncomfortably as he lapsed into old memories only he could see. Yegel was silently thankful for the break- these gaps in the old man's train of thought were the only thing that made these conversations manageable.
Unfortunately, Yegel's stomach decided to interject by gurgling it's frustration at being empty, snapping the greying elder out of his thoughts as his gaze snapped across the table. Yegel fought back the urge to flinch, if only barely- and even that was enough for the old man's eye to sparkle with something that made Yegel's skin crawl beneath his feathers.
"Ah, I've been distracting you with my yammering, haven't I?" the Head Exterminator apologized, gesturing grandly towards the array of filled dishes. "Go on, eat up boy- you've got a busy day ahead of you after all!" His wrinkled wing-hand receded from gesturing, and patted the young female on the shoulder. "You too, grand-daughter- gotta keep your calorie intake up to maintain those muscles- gear's heavy, and always getting heavier!"
Whatever his tone and attitude might have suggested, Yegel already knew that it wasn't a request. Gritting his beak, he delicately scooped up a bowl of thick, viscous algae, and methodically poured some into his beak.
Silty and clinging to his tongue, Yegel knew intellectually that this was a high-quality blend- that the consistency and density of the meal spoke of great care taken in the growing, filtering, and preparation of this dish- completely unlike the usual clumpy, soil-tainted slop served in the cafeteria. It was the sort of dish that must be incredibly expensive, even ignoring how far they were from anywhere of any importance- a culinary treat most on the base would have fought fiercely for a chance to try.
Yet as he consciously swallowed it down and discreetly clinked the bowl down on the table, all his tongue could taste was ash and flamethrower-fuel.
"Good, isn't it?" Geezil prompted as his grand-daughter also set her own bowl back down. "Straight from Nishtal, that is, grown properly in the pools, instead of them techno-vats they got on this here base. Reminds me of when I met Laila, you know- or rather, when I first worked up the gumption to ask for her time..." The old man chuckled to himself, his eyes staring off into the distance once again. "Stars, she was beautiful- and me a strapping young lad, straight from academy- big-headed from training, yet a fumbling mess with the other sex. Took me far too long to even make a pass, and longer still to make it official- kept finding excuses, when I really was just scared she'd say no!"
Yegel suppressed the urge to sigh, and found himself sharing a commiserating look with the exterminator who clearly had been through this rambling story almost as often as he had. Maybe he'd entertain the idea of bonding with her over it, if only he wasn't painfully aware of how strongly she and her friends wanted to reduce him to a pile of charred carbon. At least he wasn't suffering alone.
"You know, we got some side-eyes because of our difference in age- I was a fresh recruit, and she had been in the service for twelve years," Geezil confided absentmindedly, a dreamy expression on his face even as his granddaughter blanched and leaned away. "Ah, but we made it fine, found our happiness- and you should too!" he shifted, refocusing on his two unwilling guests. "Ten years made no difference, and you've a difference of what, five years? Not even that!"
Yegel inhaled deeply, letting his chest fully expand as he held back the surge of emotion that would certainly have worn through the elder's patience if let loose. Releasing the air in a deep sigh, he wrangled himself back into a restrained, controlled frame of mind. "Is trying to play matchmaker with your grand-daughter the only reason you arranged this meeting, sir? Because I stand by my utter lack of interest in her."
"Ah, you know it's not, you stiffneck," the old man grumbled, shifting around in his seat as he picked through his own spread of food. "You're a perfect fit for the corps, and we both know it. You got enough fire in you to want to fix the rot in society when you see it, and a good head on your neck as well- just gotta give you the training to aim it right, if you know what I'm saying." His cane reached out and tapped Yegel on the side jovially- and Yegel winced as his bruised ribs ignited in fiery pain, unable to stop a strained hiss from escaping his beak as he bent in place from the automatic tightening of his muscles.
Immediately, the entire room fell deathly still. Where once the silence had been uncomfortable but tolerable and interspersed with the inane sounds of clinking dishes, now it was an oppressive, choking claw squeezing around everyone's neck, unbroken by even a single breath of air.
"Barum." Geezil's flat, quiet statement whipped out through the stillness, a single cracking note that made the Takkan flinch in his seat. There was no waver in the old bird's voice now, only a cold, hard surety that made Yegel's feathers itch. "I was very explicit in my instructions. Was I not?"
"The- the predator resisted!" Barum tried to protest- though the waver in his voice clearly made it more of a plea. "With how dangerous he's proved to be, I had to-"
"Dangerous?" the drawled interruption made the hulking, thick-skinned exterminator flinch back from the dull-feathered bird barely half his size. "I see no injuries on any of you. There has never been an injury from officers bringing him in to me. I... was quite clear about wanting him brought here unharrassed." A single beady eye bored into the towering gray alien, making him shrink into himself under it's heat. "Do I lie?"
"S-sir please!" Sweat glistened on the Takkan's thick grey hide as he cowered back, his seat clattering to the floor as he stumbled. "It- I apologize, I swear I thought it was necessary! It won't happen again, sir! Please!"
Yegel knew what was coming next- the tightening of Geezil's beak and raising of the feathers on his back were a sure sign of how furious the old man was. All he had to do was sit back quietly and let it play out, and it would be both a distraction that bought him time, and retribution for the unnecessary blow he had taken- and was probably going to need to see the doctor for after this- if he was in a position to visit her, of course. Geezil's eyes were hard and cold, focused on his subordinate- getting between him and the subject of his ire would only earn him trouble... and yet, as Geezil's beak opened, he simply couldn't stop himself.
"While this is all quite engaging," Yegel interjected, refusing to flinch back as every eye in the room snapped towards him, Kalina's expression one of open shock while Geezil's screwed up in barely-contained fury, "but you said there was more to this meeting than making another recruitment pitch to me, yet all you've actually given besides that was an attempt to get me to go out with your grand-daughter." His confidence faltered as wrinkled eyes tightened, glaring holes into him, but he rallied himself and carefully considered his next words. "While your... repeated offers are actually quite flattering, I am quite happy with what I have managed to make for myself, without accepting favors or handouts- from anyone."
Geezil hummed to himself, maintaining his glare as the silent room held it's breath, before his jaw twitched upwards into a satisfied smirk, his eyes glinting as the granite in them faded into a smug satisfaction of having found what he was looking for. The entire room relaxed as he leaned backwards in his perch, Barum falling to the floor and trying to muffle the sounds of his heaving for breath. The gentle clinking of dishes and silverware once more filled the room in a very deliberate attempt at making noise, covering up the previous tension with artificial ease. Kalina was giving Yegel a look- not the pure disgust from earlier, but something confused, as if he were a particularly perplexing puzzle-game, or a problem that had suddenly reached an unexpected solution.
"You really can't help yourself, can you," Geezil noted approvingly, glancing over at his grand-daughter's reaction before nodding at Yegel- and making a jerking motion at Barum, who gulped and pulled himself off the floor, quietly hurrying his way out of the room. "So, I uh..." the light in his eyes faded, his beak clacking shut as he rapped his talons against his perch. "I, uh, huh... hmmm. There was, actually something else... Bother me, where were we? I can't remember..."
"I believe," Yegel commented dryly, fighting to keep his own breathing even, "That I was once again saying how content I am with my current position, and that even this doctor being imported just for me isn't enough for me to leave everything behind and run into the Exterminator Corps."
"Ah, right, right," he nodded, snagging on to the lead Yegel had thrown him, before pausing and looking out over the room. "I do respect what you've managed on your own," he finally admitted, setting his bowl to the side, "But this time... this doctor, he's not exactly playing fair. This is politics, the nasty sort- where he's going to do everything he can to make you disappear. Unless, of course..." reaching into his own pouch, he shakily produces a holopad that he slides over to Yegel, displaying a series of documents- and a prominent line for signatures. "You take an alternative. Sign up, and it'll be our own docs who do your eval- and you'll clear their tests just fine, I think. Might not be your ideal career path- but I'm loathe to let such a promising young man get screwed by Old-Molts with thin egos and sharp talons."
Yegel's first instinct was to push the pad away, to reject it like he usually did- but now, he paused, expression screwed up in conflict. A part of him was tempted- severely tempted- to accept- the part of him that was still terrified of the looming threat, that wanted to run somewhere-anywhere- and hide until this whole twisted situation just went away.
Was he being selfish, rejecting an offer like this? Wouldn't the right thing to do be to accept and guarantee he stayed alive, like Jelliba and Kallik so desperately wanted? Why take the risk, when safety was right here, just a signature away- something that would guarantee him the chance to see what Jelliba's final design would look like, to see Kallik climb through the ranks like Yegel knew he someday would? Was it pride that stayed his talons, or was he simply afraid of change?
"Seriously?!" his granddaughter hissed, clearly taken aback, unaware of Yegel's silent internal debate as she rounded on her grandfather angrily. "That's why he's here? So we can just ignore his entire history of warning signs, just because you like him? With a record like his-"
"-He'd fit right in," he finished for her, eyes narrowed in a disappointed glare that had her beak snapping closed as she shrunk back into her perch. "I know you ain't seen most of it, Lialu, but most of our recruits aren't exactly got glistening feathers. Heck, lots of our older recruits got worse on their record! It's half the point of the training regimen, to file down the burrs in their talons, make something useful from them."
File down the burrs... Was he really willing to accept what that entailed? What parts of himself would he need to sacrifice, if he went down this road? What would he become, on the other side of whatever training they had in store for him?
Would he still be Yegel?
Inhaling deeply through his beak, Yegel grasped the pad, which felt far heavier than it should... and gently slid it back over to Geezil.
"If I accepted now, that would practically be an admission of being sick," Yegel breathed, his heart pounding heavily within his chest. "I... am going to see this through- I will pass this evaluation, no matter what he throws at me- and then!" Finally, he looked Geezil in the eye, firming his own resolve as he squared his shoulders. "Then, and only then, will I consider your offer."
Geezil watched on, the burning tongues of some dark flame flickering behind his ancient eyes. When Yegel stood strong, his feathers crinkled into an amused display, even as he shook his head in mock disappointment. "Ah, you really are a fine young lad," he sighed mournfully, rapping his cane against the table. "Are you sure? The doctor arrived only an hour ago in port- this is your last chance, before we have to take you to your evaluation. And without anyone having requested the extra security of one of my officers, why, this might be the last time we see each other!"
Ah. So that was the old geezer's game. Yegel pushed down the rising surge of fear, quivering in his perch as he forced himself to meet the elder's gaze. "Then I'll go ahead and invite you myself- I'm more than happy to have an audience to me proving my innocence."
The old bird's beak twisted into an ugly grin. "I am sure you do. Lialu, go ahead- consider this a learning experience for the future, hmn? Now, I won't waste any more of your time- so off you go!"
The scraping of seats being pushed out was all the warning Yegel got before he was grabbed and pulled from his seat. "Hey, hey, gentle with him, you hard-headed brutes!" Scoffing, Geezil pushed himself back in his seat, glaring at his Exterminators as Yegel was unceremoniously dropped.
"So, you planned this all out in advance, didn't you?" Yegel guessed, pushing himself to his feet- and wincing as his side twinged in pain, reminding him of the rapidly-swelling bruise.
"Dunno what you mean," Geezil denied in faux apology, as his granddaughter gaped between the two of them, clearly lost on what was happening. "Figured you needed a chance to make the right choice- or failing that, a decent last meal." Waving his wing in disappointment, he gestured towards the door- which Yegel found himself getting rapidly pushed towards. "Good luck, lad- I hope to see you again someday!"
"Don't worry, sir," Yegel snapped back, shouldering away from his escorts and refusing to look back. "I'll be back sooner than you think."
The doors slammed shut behind his escorts, reflecting the young female's confused, conflicted gaze as she strode alongside him- Yegel felt a moment of pity for the young girl, who the geezer had clearly thrown into the deep end on purpose. Hopefully she caught onto the game soon, otherwise she'd end up as somebody's tool- though maybe it was already too late for that.
Stomach roiling at the thought of what lay ahead, Yegel couldn't help the feeling of regret for not taking the escape offered to him- sure it wouldn't be ideal, but he owed it to the people most important to him to make sure he stuck around a little longer. Why he'd rejected it... he couldn't quite put it into words, only a feeling that it would have been... wrong, somehow.
The cafeteria murmured again as he was led through the mealtime crowd, catching the panicked gazes of his friends across the room. Kallik was halfway out of his seat before Yegel carefully gestured back, tapping his wing against his throat- and watching his friend slowly settle back down, Kallik's eyes growing focused as he turned and strode towards a different exit, vanishing into the distance as Yegel was dragged through a set of doors out into a cold, grey hallway.
Clenching his gullet, he carefully felt out around Kallik's gift- safely stored within his throat. The creeping tendrils of terror within his mind were growing stronger, but he chose to have faith in his friend- and resolved to make sure his efforts were not wasted.
He'd find a way through- he just had to keep moving forward.
///
one week earlier...
Once he'd had the chance to compose himself, Yegel returned to his viewing- he wanted to see what happened next, after such a massive shift in the struggle now that Eren had actually earned them a victory.
Despite that, Armin's narration pointed out that too many lives had been lost for any celebrations to be in order- a sentiment that Yegel understood, but... well, he wasn't as surprised to to see it from the humans anymore. Imagine, it wasn't long ago that he'd have been expecting them to revel in the carnage like other predators, uncaring of the toll in lives- yet here they were, deeply affected by the loss of so many friends and comrades, and instead of being baffled by it, Yegel completely understood their response.
Oh, and they'd taken advantage of their unique situation to even capture two of the smaller titans, presumably for study- which, given Eren's sudden new powers, was probably something that needed more study than initially presumed. Thankfully the restraints seems pretty extensive, so hopefully they could keep the monsters contained- but still, imagine being the poor soul tasked with keeping them locked down! Hopefully it wouldn't take long for them to get what they needed and dispose of the creatures.
Of course, with victory came the morbid task of cleaning up the aftermath- and not in the way anyone else in the Federation would believe if he told them. Gathering up bodies as respectfully as they could, instead of devouring them on the spot? He'd be hard-pressed to convince anyone he was telling the truth!
Wait... Marco?!
When did Marco die?! Yegel thought he'd gotten away after saving Jean! Maybe it was in the push to get Eren to the gate? Geez, and Jean was the one to find him- Marco had been so supportive of him, despite Jean's fear and self-doubts, always willing to give a word of encouragement and affirm Jean's place as leader... and now he was gone, with Jean being forced to help the cleanup crew's by giving Marco's details...
The female doctor brought up something Yegel hadn't considered- that the reason for the urgency of their cleanup was because of the risk of an epidemic breaking out. The dead had been left too long, and now there was a risk of a secondary disaster if the humans didn't hurry. Yegel had never really considered something like that- meat was meat to predators, wasn't it? The Arxur never seemed to mind eating bodies they stumbled across, so he'd somehow assumed that diseases like that weren't a concern for predators.
Just another area where the humans proved their difference from the greys, he supposed.
Thankfully, the camera hadn't focused on Marco's corpse for too long, so Yegel was able to contain his urge to gag, focusing in on Jean and his emotional response- and how expressive human faces were, even when covered by face-masks to protect themselves from germs and contamination. Of course that was when the scene shifted to Sasha and Connie, helping to clean up a massive ball of... flesh... that apparently titans upchuck when they're too full, since they don't actually have a digestive track... and a closeup showed a human mouth inside, still opened in a silent scream...
Yes, hello wastebin, been a moment since we last met, how have you been? Don't mind me, just emptying my stomach again!
...Yegel didn't like Sasha- she was clearly the most "predatory" of the humans- but at least here, the disgust and horror on her face showed that there were lines even she wouldn't cross.
Even Annie, the stoic female who never seemed to show emotion, was shaken- standing over a body, apologizing over and over again, before Reiner pointed out that contrition did the dead no good, and that they needed a proper burial. So the humans buried their dead? That was kind of similar to Gojid traditions for honoring the dead, burying them in vast family crypts.
But, why did the scene shift to a fire burning? What were they-
Oh.
So that's what those grey flakes that had been falling everywhere were. Yegel had kind of been wondering about that.
So, they didn't even have time to give proper burials to everyone.
That...
Yegel forced himself to take a deep breath, rubbing the sides of his head as he exhaled. He'd say it was similar to Krakotl death rites, purifying the body to drift through the divine winds of Nishtal, to be carried away to Intala's realm, but... in this context, it clearly must have been desperation and urgency rather than a matter of respect.
...Intala, please watch over them.
...Thankfully, the perspective then shifted back to Eren- who was now locked up in a cell deep underground, and chained to a bed. Understandable precautions- his powers were clearly still volatile, and the last thing the humans needed to deal with was a rogue titan wandering around.
Commander Erwin and Captain Levi were outside his cell, watching him. Erwin asked if he had any questions- which, well, Yegel obviously had several, but Eren was still disoriented from waking up. Which made sense, given how much using his power seemed to take out of him- he must have been exhausted after carrying that boulder for so long.
Erwin proceeded to ask about the key that had held such importance- and the secret that was apparently hidden beneath Eren's house. Eren confirmed, and Levi scoffed about how it must suck to have your dad and your memories MIA at the same time- unless it was just a cover story. Which- was a reasonable concern, but... was that what Yegel sounded like to other people?
At least Erwin confirmed that they knew Eren had no reason to lie- and proceeded to ask Eren what he wanted- what his intentions were. After all, to reach the cellar, they'd need to seal the breach in the other wall like they'd done in Trost- which required Eren's special power. Apparently they'd even conjectured that the Colossal and Armored titan must be like Eren- titans piloted by people?! Which did make sense- the Bad Humans probably had an easier time developing and using titan powers, since they weren't trying to fight or resist their predator instincts. That also would explain their motive- killing all the good humans would mean the bad humans would win, and be able to rule as dominant predators like the Arxur did.
...Was there a group of good Arxur once, that lost their own fight with the Arxur Yegel knew?
NO. No, that was impossible- there was no way the greys had ever had anything good within them- they were monsters through and through! Good Arxur? Ridiculous- just because humans were an insane enigma that broke every rule as if they were intentionally trying to didn't mean the same applied to other predators!
Unless of course, the good Arxur had all been killed-
No. NO. Yegel was not going down that path of madness! He was not!
...
...Erwin expanded on his statement, saying that was why he asked Eren's intentions- because Eren could save "us," presumably meaning the good humans. Eren initially said he didn't know- but then his past, his memories, all flooded through his head- his inner voice angrily declaring that he would stop this with his bare hands! When Levi pressed for an answer, Eren looked up with a downright deranged grin- and declared that he wanted to kill all the titans- every last one.
So that's how Eren turned out different- he'd aimed his instincts towards the monsters, and become obsessed with wiping out the titans, instead of wanting to consume humans like every other titan did. That said something about Eren's mental fortitude- and why he still had difficulties with his power. Actively twisting your instincts like that must cross a few wires, leaving him needing to actively learn things instead of simply doing what came naturally.
Levi seemed to like that answer, a gleam entering his eyes as he approached Eren's cell and announced that he'd take responsibility for him. Not that he implicitly trusted him, but that he trusted his abilities to kill Eren if necessary. He offered Eren congratulations, officially welcoming him as a new member of the Scouting Corps- and told Erwin to let the higher-ups know.
And then announced that, despite this meeting, Eren wasn't out of the woods yet- as he was going to stand trial, where they'd need to argue against him simply being killed.
Because of course it couldn't be that simple.