cross-posted from: https://hexbear.net/post/4892566

But in Gaza today, cash has all but disappeared. Aside from the brief ceasefire interlude that started in January and Israel ended on 19 March, when some cash aid was delivered by international organizations, no cash had entered Gaza for 15 months prior and none since.

In the first three months alone after October 2023, according to the World Bank, Israel destroyed or damaged 93 percent of all bank branches.

With no banks and only the cash that was already there – so overused by now that it is starting to disintegrate – Palestinians in Gaza have had to improvise.

Digital transactions have eased some of the pressure, while bartering has become common.

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The game starts you off with the worst LOB deck possible and makes you work for every card you win (one at a time). Since early ygo is all about 4 star cards with good atk power you're totally outclassed by the ai that has a bunch of beatsticks on hand AS WELL AS powerful tributes like summon skull.

And the absolute insult to injury is now TWO TIMES the ai has completed exodia, giving a big ol' fuck you to me when I had the ai down to like 1k life points.

Konami fix your cheating ass games, these are supposed to be for babies, not masochists.

As the White House convened its new World Cup task force, Vice President JD Vance threatened to deport World Cup tourists who come to the U.S. next summer. He then kicked it to Homeland Security Secretary Kristi Noem, whose face is already quite familiar to World Cup fans. A disgusting Homeland Security ad starring Noem has been airing during major soccer matches in Mexico. Her message to our World Cup co-host? "We will hunt you down," she says in the ad. "Criminals are not welcome in the United States."

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When [Terence Grover] set out to build a Tamagotchi-inspired simulator, he didn’t just add a few modern tweaks. He ditched the entire concept and rebuilt it from the ground up. Forget cute wide-eyed blobby animals and pixel-poop. This Raspberry Pi-powered project ditches nostalgia in favour of brutal realism: inflation, burnout, capitalism, and the occasional existential crisis. Think Sims meets cyberpunk, rendered charmingly in Python on a low-res RGB LED matrix.

Instead of hunger and poop meters, this dystopian pet juggles Maslow’s hierarchy: hunger, rest, safety, social life, esteem, and money. Players make real-life-inspired decisions like working, socialising, and going into education – each affecting the stats in logical (and often unfair) ways. No free lunch here: food requires money, money requires mind-numbing labour, and labour tanks your rest. You can even die of overwork à la Amazon warehouse. The UI and animation logic are all hand-coded, and there’s a working buzzer, pixel-perfect sprite movement, and even mini-games to simulate job repetition.

It’s equal parts social commentary and pixel art fever dream. While we have covered Tamagotchi recreations some time ago, this one makes you the needy survivor. Want your own dystopia in 64×32? Head over to [Terence Grover]’s Github and fork the full open source code. We’ll be watching. The Tamagotchi certainly is.

From Blog – Hackaday via this RSS feed

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Yeah, it was the cached dependencies, how did you guess?

Mahler caught wind of the article and responded to it on social media, going on a rant against ‘the press’ and those who hate against him and his brand on social media because of past events and opinions.

He slipped a bit, making some inflammatory comments:

I’ve been hated on Twitter by a few crazies for years now, and I also saw the calls for review bombing because, according to those folks, I’m a ‘Nazi.’

These days, apparently anyone who doesn’t include five trans characters in their game and doesn’t let their products be influenced by political bullshit is a Nazi. What a world we live in.

When the Russia/Ukraine war broke out and I replied on Twitter saying that Moon Studios wouldn’t be taking a public stance—because we’re a video game company, not a journalistic outlet—the next day a threat letter with a picture of Putin was taped to my office door, full of insults from top to bottom.

Well that went from whiney to a bigoted WTF tangent in zero seconds flat.

This is an automated archive made by the Lemmit Bot.

The original was posted on /r/hfy by /u/KyleKKent on 2025-05-12 21:12:49+00:00.

First

Elsewhere, With Others

“So Torment, I’m actually asking this of all Vishanyan, but why did your people choose the naming scheme you use? It seems deliberately clunky.” Harold asks.

“No more or less than any other naming scheme. Most beings just rarely bother to translate their names. From my understanding your name is at least in part saying, Room of Arms and Armour and Son of James.”

“But do you have to translate it directly?”

“Yes.” Torment states.

“Yes, but why?” Harold asks.

“Why are you so insistent on asking these things?”

“Psychology. It may be a softer science but it’s a field that can be understood either way. And the first step to understanding things is to get as much information about is as possible, then look for patterns. After that you compare it to other similar patterns and see if you can find a match, and then you keep going on from there, but the first step is always gather information.” Harold says.

“So you’re studying us.”

“I study everything around me, constantly.” Harold corrects her.

“That does not deny my statement.”

“No, it doesn’t. But it does clarify that this isn’t special. You’re getting the same routine I give to everyone. The only reason you’re really noticing is that you’re the new thing around. Also your ship is under-armoured. You could easily fit a few more inches of plating on all the major bulkheads and angle them a little more to better deflect physical attacks and dissipate the heat from lasers and plasma.”

“That would slow the ship.”

“Not any appreciable amount. Dodging is good, never even being attacked is better. But sometimes the galaxy reminds you who’s really in charge and it’s not any of us. A little more armour rarely hurts.”

“And what do you expect us to need it for?”

“The same thing that left a dent in the portside lower armour plating on your ship. It went in a decimetre deep and was a full half meter across. I assume you hit a chunk of granite that was angled in such a way as to deflect any standard sensors. Bad luck, but it does happen.”

“... A decimetre?” The Captain of The Silent Watcher asks in a tone of horror.

“Yes, near the failure point of your plating if my estimates are correct. You need to not only fix that, but just a bit more armour on all those sides will save you a lot of headaches in the future.” Harold says. “If you don’t mind other peoples poking around, I’m sure I can get some men off the RAM to spare some time to fix things up.”

“And The RAM is?”

“One of the two modular ships that are currently docked with this larger vessel. The RAM is Repair and Maintenance. It’s opposite, The RAD is Research and Development. Or in other words The RAM brings to life what The RAD dreams up.”

“And you think I’m going to allow another people into my ship to potentially sabotage it and strip out it’s secrets?”

“... You’re refusing free repairs on your ship AFTER I pointed out damage nearing a critical state?” Harold asks.

“I will need to investigate it myself to see if it truly requires repair.”

“It’s your ship Captain.” Harold says. “Anyways speaking of ships we have reached the part of this ship where if you want to you can enter the other ships. That airlock will lead directly to The RAM if you so desire, and directly below us deck wise is the same thing for The RAD. The lift is that door that which will bring you to where you want to go. Any questions so far?”

“Why did you bring us here first?”

“I saw the damage and assumed you would want to speak with the boys on The RAM to see about undenting your ship. But if not then this is just part of the tour.” Harold says. “So, moving on. We’re approaching the rear of the ship and are near the primary engines. As any of you with engine know how will be able to spot. We have more redundancies and numerous parts of the engine are designed to disengage from the central core. This is the Cruel Space modification. Too much Axiom in areas with too much Null gets disruptive in a very violent manner.”

“How so?”

“Boom. Normally a null dispersion only shuts things down, but if there’s enough power and enough Null... then it gets a lot more exciting.” Harold explains before grinning. “Double sided mushroom cloud exciting. Sacrificial Dummy ship reduced to molecules on the low end exciting. Vision permanently damaged due to sheer amount of light if you look at it exciting.”

Someone whistles.

“Finally! I was starting to wonder if you girls had trained your personalities out! Come on!” Harold says cheerfully.

“Is he always like this?” Torment asks.

“If he’s not like this then he’s being terrifyingly efficient. He considers fighting Axiom Adepts to be entertainment and training. I’ve seen him push himself until his own body rebels and then keep fighting. He considered it a sign he needs to improve his conditioning.”

“It was! I’m working on it!” Harold calls back and proves he’s still very much in hearing range.

The engines of The Inevitable are exactly as described and far, far more. Massive, overpowered and oversized, exactly what a ship this size needs just to have any amount of acceleration, but many of the components designed for more immediate acceleration and steering have hydraulics on them and clear lines of separation between themselves and their fellow components. The very idea of engines that you can throw a switch and pull it apart is ludicrous but... if it functions while pressed together, then it’s surely a good thing right?”

“How long does it take for the engines to actually be fully activated after changing configuration?” The Captain of The Silent Watcher asks.

“About an hour for activation. Deactivation requires two parts, the first is for the big red switch there to be flipped. It immediately shuts down and vents away power from the excess engines and allows the central engine core to keep working. Then is the slow process of pulling away the other parts of the engine because the central core by itself runs hot and needs maintenance more often.”

“Sounds like a danger.”

“It can be. But considering the sheer amount of cabin fever that Cruel Space hammers into the people navigating it, it’s regarded more like a feature. The constant need for maintenance busies the mind and prevents someone from going mad. Engineering had one of the easier times travelling from Earth.”

“Is there no form of Stasis that works without Axiom?”

“None that we’ve found. From my understanding there have been leaps in Cryo-Stasis technology. But there are a lot of biological considerations, especially if we don’t have Axiom to make up any mistakes made. Things need to be tested, retested and then Axiom drawn out of the equation. But I suspect when it and if it actually works, we’ll see a surge of movement form Earth. After all, I’m sure you don’t need to be told the benefits of passengers that don’t need to be fed, given room to keep healthy or any other large number of considerations. Oxygen for example.”

“Hmm... cryo-stasis. That would be uncomfortable.”

“No doubt. It looks like it’s going to take special medicines and likely training to get in and out of it without issue. But if it can be made to work then...”

“Your species leaves the part of the galaxy effectively set aside for you.” The Captain of The Silent Watcher states.

“That sounded... bitter.”

“Do you have any idea how many species would commit truly gruesome acts to have the advantages yours does? An entire portion of the galaxy set aside for you as if by divine birthright. That you are so eager to leave it is obscene.”

Harold turns to fully regard the Vishanyan woman and tilts his head.

“Do you not consider that we have had to pay for this ‘gift’? Or that it might have already cost us far more than most would value it?” Harold asks.

“Oh? Like what?”

“Our species has been shaped, entirely, by the Null. The very physical construction of our bodies, the psychology and even when we emerged as a species. Or even had the chance to emerge at all. Is all due to Null. But if we had emerged without it. We wouldn’t be a Tret like species. Trets would be a Human like species. Can you even begin to imagine how much history, achievement and power has been lost because we were in the depths of Cruel Space? As far as I understand, there aren’t actually words that accurately describe it. But suffice to say, it would bankrupt any nation, polity or person you can care to name. Easily.”

“And what does that have to do with the value of Cruel Space?”

“That IS the value of Cruel Space, and what it cost us to achieve. More than the rest of the galaxy has. We would have potentially been one of the first emergent species without it. Likely after The Nagasha, but before the Cannidors. And that’s IF we only emerged after the Dinosaurs. If we showed up before that... then we may very well have been the first species of the galaxy.” Harold says. “So there’s the price in full. Existence and galactic dominance without needing to fire a single shot. Tell me, can anything pay that price?”

“I...”

“So yes, it’s an excellent defence and partitioned off a heft chunk of the galaxy just for us. But it’s not perfect and the cost to it all was kinda... up there.” Harold says using his hand rising up as a visualization for the price before switching to pointing straight up to emphasize things. “So yes, Cruel Space is valuable. But we’ve paid so much for it that we’re defined by it. And that’s...

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The original was posted on /r/hfy by /u/Khenal on 2025-05-12 19:56:51+00:00.

Jury duty was called off, so the schedule continues uninterrupted!

As I watch the kids delve, I try to think about what the thieves guild could be up to. If they’re interested in the hold, the Earl must be, too. In fact, there’s a good chance it’s the other way around: the Earl is interested and is using the thieves to try to subtly get information about it. That makes a bit more sense to me, because I can’t imagine the thieves actually doing anything with the hold.

But if I think about it from the Earls perspective, it’s easy to come up with reasons for him to want to know more about the hold. It’s specifically designed to be as impregnable as possible, a final bastion against disaster, a Vault without the horrible social experiments. While it’s designed to shelter the whole town, I could easily see someone like the Earl wanting to take it for himself.

Someone used to scheming would definitely want to have a secure fallback position, which is what the hold is. Wait… does that make me a schemer? Eugh. Teemo chuckles at me as he gathers snacks from my enclaves, all the better to lure the kids to a talk. Oh no… I am a schemer! My Voice’s chuckles turn to a full on laugh at my expense, and I ham it up a bit with some mental wailing and gnashing of teeth before I get back to business.

Scheming can be for good, especially when you’re working to counter the schemes of actual schemers. I do my best to ignore Teemo’s continued snickering as I jot down a few questions and solidify what I actually want to achieve from the meeting, and what I would guess Tupul would want. If he’s being bullied by the thieves, protection is simple enough to offer him.

That doesn’t take me very long, so I return to redesigning the labyrinth while I wait for them to finish delving. I get a little distracted by remembering tensegrity and how designs featuring it look like they’re floating, and wondering what kind of shenanigans I could do by combining the design style with gravity affinity. In the middle of chasing forces and running numbers, I feel Teemo call for my attention.

Looks like the kids are done delving. It also looks like Larx has taken it upon himself to host the snacks and is relaxing in the lecture hall with some tea on and a plate piled high with fresh cookies. Teemo’s giving both a taste test, with his own cookie on a saucer and even a small teacup. Seems they’re both up to snuff, as he’s already eying the plate and pot for more of both. But duty calls, so he’ll have to come back for his treats with the kids in tow.

He quickly slips off through a shortcut and catches the party as they head for the porch to turn their aranea quests in. Fiona spots my Voice first, and pokes Freddie in the back of the head to get his attention. “Oh, hey Teemo. We’ve just about done for today, I think. Tupul and Tula did great today.”

I can see the indicated duo looking tired, with Tula looking accomplished and Tupul looking uncomfortable being pointed out. My Voice nods at that. “That’s why I’m here. The Boss was going to offer you guys the explanation on gravity, and there’s even going to be cookies and tea.”

Tupul doesn’t look tempted at all, except maybe to bolt. Tula looks intrigued, as does Rhonda, while Freddie doesn’t look too interested either. See, this is why I wanted snacks.

“Larx’s cookies and tea,” clarifies my Voice, earning the full attention of both Freddie and Rhonda, with the latter turning to Tupul with excitement.

“You’ve gotta come! Larx makes the best cookies and tea in the dungeon! Even Cobblebread is trying to recreate his cookie recipe!” Freddie nods and Tula looks sold. Tupul, on the other hand, is looking even more reluctant, but peer pressure is a social force to rival gravity, so he reluctantly follows along.

Larx warmly greets everyone once they arrive, and Teemo repeats the lesson on gravity, this time with a background of crunching cookies and sipped tea, instead of bewildered murmurs and scribbling quills. Tupul is looking a lot more at ease by the end, looking almost normal as he enjoys the snacks, Tula and Rhonda blabbering about magical theory in the background. Hopefully we won’t harsh his mellow too badly.

I can feel Teemo considering how to broach the subject, eventually settling on the kind of directness he’s known for, without being cruel to the lad. “So Tupul… how long has the thieves guild been pressuring you?”

The elf freezes, cookie halfway to his lips, as the others process what Teemo said. Larx still sits back, looking like a happy grandpa, while the others simply look confused. Tupul’s eyes flick to the door before Teemo continues.

“If you want, you can just go, and the Boss won’t stop you. But we know they’re somehow subtly involved with you. Whatever leverage they think they have on you, we can stop it. You can head out that door and back into the arms that bear poisoned daggers, or you can stay here and we’ll figure out what to do about them.”

Tupul’s hands shake as he puts the cookie down, and I can see the emotions warring across his face. Whatever the guild has, it’s a doozie. The real question is if they’ve convinced him he’s already drowned, or if he still holds out hope for a life preserver. He takes a deep breath and releases it before standing and walking for the door.

Instead of leaving, though, he closes it, and returns to the table. He still looks like his nerves are going to vibrate him apart, but he’s made his decision. “Please…” he starts, though he doesn’t know how to continue.

“Do you want to talk about whatever they have on you, or about what their plans are at the hold?”

He leans back in his chair, closing his eyes as he tries to calm himself. “The second’s easy, at least. I don’t know what they want. They just want information, but I don’t know why. I tell my handler at the bunkhouse what I see and hear, he tells someone else, and it gets back to the Boss.”

“How many have infiltrated the workforce?” asks Teemo, earning another shrug from Tupul.

“A couple dozen? The schism was fake, just an excuse to get some of the guild far enough away to be able to sneak back in as laborers. I only really know the ones in my bunkhouse.”

Teemo nods at that for me as I poke Poe and Leo to send a few rockslides and wyrms to keep a better eye on the hold and the laborers camped out around it. They might be difficult to sneak in and around the thieves guild territory, but around the hold is a different matter altogether. There’s no sewers or basements around to accidentally burrow into, and who’s going to notice some extra rocks around?

My Voice smiles. “So what do they have to keep you in line? If they were going to just beat you up, that’s simple enough to put a stop to.”

Tupul snorts, though it’s more full of bitterness than humor. “I wish it was that simple. They… they’re after my parent’s shop. They’re butchers, just dealing in meat and fish. Times got tight, and they approached the guild for a loan, after being turned down by the banks. I think the guild is only interested in the shop, but that’s probably even worse than if they wanted my folks. Like this… they’re expendable to the guild. No, worse: they’re an obstacle. So… when the payments became too much for my parents to afford, I offered to join the guild as payment instead.”

Rhonda looks shocked as he explains, while Freddie frowns at the injustice. Tula reaches over and pats his hand, earning a flinch before Tupul continues. “So… yeah. If you’re going to help me, you have to help them. I’m not worried about me. I… I can figure something out for me. But mom and dad… they never wanted anything like this.”

“You could adventure with us,” offers Rhonda, with Freddie nodding and looking supportive.

“I don’t think I’m going to be on your level any time soon…” Tupul sighs, only for Freddie to shake his head.

“We’ve only been adventuring for a year,” he points out.

“But you two are nobles or something, right? You’ve been given a lot to get ahead. I’m the press-ganged son of a couple butchers.”

“No,” starts Freddie, only to get cut off.

“I am! I have to scrape and save to get anything, bow and kneel to the stupid guild! I just want my parents to be happy!” shouts Tupul, but Rhonda and Freddie aren’t done talking.

“We’re not nobles,” says Rhonda.

“We’re orphans,” clarifies Freddie, though Tupul looks like he’s having trouble believing that.

“But… but you’re strong! And your clothes! Your gear!”

“Earned from delving. I apprenticed with Old Staiven, and Freddie joined the Crystal Shield church. We were some of Thedeim’s first delvers. We worked hard to get where we are.”

Tupul stammers for a few seconds, more complex emotions clearly flying through his head, before Larx speaks up.

“You’re overthinking things, lad. Don’t get caught up in what others have, what others do. Concentrate on what you can do. Strive for the strength to change what you can’t accept, the patience to accept what you can’t change, and the wisdom to know the difference. You can’t change the past, but you can shape your present and aim for the future you desire.”

“It’s not that easy!” counters Tupul, fighting back frustrated tears.

“Only because that first step is so hard. Misery lies, lad. Whispers how much worse things could be. Just lay low, don’t attract attention, and wait for the golden opportunity.” Larx shakes his head....

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The original was posted on /r/hfy by /u/daecrist on 2025-05-12 19:43:42+00:00.

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The warehouse looked abandoned, but I knew that was a lie. The transmission had been coming from somewhere in this area, though it shut off as soon as whoever was controlling it realized we were flying straight for the source.

Only it was too late. There was still a giant power source coming from somewhere around here, and according to my readings that somewhere was right below this warehouse.

It looked like I wasn’t the only villain to have the bright idea of locating a base under the city. Only this asshole, whoever he was, had gone for post-industrial chic rather than hiding under suburban sprawl.

"What is this place?" Fialux asked.

"A rat hole," I said. I turned to Fialux. "Do you trust me?"

She raised an eyebrow. "I'd think it's safe to say I do at this point."

"I mean this, do you trust me?"

"Of course I do."

"Good, because if I'm right you might see some things in here that shock you," I said.

"More shocking than what happened with you today?"

"I'm just saying be prepared."

We walked into the warehouse, but it was absolutely silent. No noise, no nothing. The only thing filling the warehouse was the debris from manufacturing that had gone to another country decades ago, and the occasional mote of dust dancing in the light of giant occasionally broken windows that ran the length of the place.

The place smelled of dust and wood and old oil that hadn’t been properly cleaned up when the company abandoned this place. Obviously whoever was inhabiting this lair wasn’t using the ground floor.

"Are you sure there's something down there?" Fialux asked.

I looked down at my wrist computer. We were close.

"I'm certain," I said.

"I could just burrow straight down. Do a little spin and drill to whatever's hidden down there."

"No, I don't think that's necessary," I said. I adjusted some settings on my wrist computer. "This should be powerful enough and directional enough to take that silicon wafered prick out. He won’t know what hit him."

That was the problem with being a machine. At the end of the day when all the defense systems were gone, when all the schemes were defeated, when the giant death robot had been destroyed, there was nowhere for a supercomputer to run because they were stuck in place by necessity. 

Nowhere to run. Nowhere to hide. No way to save yourself if the person hunting you has a way of taking you out without entering your lair and risking whatever traps you’ve laid.

Something told me this bolt hole wasn’t hardened against what I was about to dish out. That I could detect a power source at all told me whoever designed the place was relying on not being found as stealth tactic numero uno. 

Which didn’t do a damn bit of good if you got sloppy and let someone find you. At least I hoped CORVAC just got sloppy. Or maybe CORVAC was the new roomie and his partner hadn’t bothered to harden the place against attack.

Maybe the place wasn’t hardened against this kind of attack because his new roomie wasn’t the kind of person who’d ever had to do that. No, if he could make his way through life mind controlling his way to fame and fortune then why bother defending against an EMP?

I held out my wrist computer and paused with my hand over a big red button I pulled up on the touch screen. I liked big red buttons. I didn’t like that this one had to go on my touch screen, but it wasn’t practical to have a big red click button taking up that much space on my wrist computer.

I didn’t pause because of any sort of hesitation or guilt over killing CORVAC. No. I knew there was a good chance he had a monitor hidden around here somewhere, and I wanted him to know what was hitting him and who was doing it before I pulled the trigger.

I wanted him to see it coming. 

I pushed the button and the speakers played a satisfying click sound. It might be a touch screen, but I couldn’t have a big red button press without a satisfying click. My wrist computer started to make a high-pitched beeping noise, and a moment later the entire room flickered as the beeping stopped.

The change was almost instantaneous. The building flickered around us again, giant structures coming into view then disappearing. And then they appeared again as though a curtain was being pulled back. Though it was a curtain of invisibility and not the traditional cloth variety.

Revealing a room that looked nothing like the dusty warehouse we’d been looking at.

"What was that?" Fialux asked.

I grinned. "Localized directional electromagnetic pulse. I had it go straight down on the gamble that CORVAC's actual hardware was hiding somewhere down there with that power source.” I glanced around the room. "Looks like I was right too."

"Impressive."

I didn't respond. I looked down at my wrist computer and scanned for any of the telltale signs of CORVAC's positronic matrix brain. Only there was nothing. No energy signal either. Whatever I’d done, it took out the power source and hopefully whatever was left of his traitorous circuits.

I smiled and very nearly breathed a sigh of relief. I'd shown him, the digitized asshole.

My only regret was I didn't get to see the look on his self-satisfied screens as I fried his circuits for the last time.

My moment of distraction thinking of CORVAC's last moments, it would've been less than a second but that was an eternity in computer time and plenty of time for him to consider the error of fighting Night Terror, was when the attack came.

A flash of black slammed into me and I hit the ground sliding. The wind was knocked out of me. My reinforced suit might be enough to prevent damage when I was hit, but that didn't mean the laws of physics just stopped working. Getting hit with enough force could jostle me around inside the suit and really hurt, even with the inertial dampeners I'd added.

It was the same old problem. I couldn't actually add anything large enough to completely shield me from everything that might hit me. Only enough to prevent most blows from doing serious damage if I could see them coming, which was usually advantage enough.

Not that the hit I took was particularly powerful. It was just a surprise, and without CORVAC monitoring things and adjusting to blows he could see coming on monitors in realtime it could be difficult to anticipate a hit in the same way I had pre-betrayal.

I was going to have to work on that if I made it out of this alive.

I looked up and wasn’t at all surprised at who I saw there.

"I was wondering when you’d come out to play," I said.

A fist connected with my cheek and I spit out blood. Blood! Damn that hurt!

I had to admit this reception was definitely more physical than the last time we met, though it also wasn't entirely unexpected.

"Rex," Fialux growled.

The fuck?

She looked like she was about to launch herself at the asshole, but I held up a hand. "Wait!"

The asshole stood and clapped. My eyes narrowed. My mouth fell open. I’d been expecting to meet a wannabe villain masquerading as a hero who beat the shit out of low level criminals on the regular, but I didn’t expect the wannabe villain to be this particular someone. I couldn’t believe it.

Chalk another one up for Night Terror. All of my suspicions were absolutely true! But at the same time erase one off the board for Night Terror. My suspicions were completely wrong.

“Rex?” I asked, the incredulity dripping from my voice. “Rex Roth is your mysterious boyfriend?”

“Well… I…” Fialux mumbled and shook her head as though trying to clear out a familiar fog that was hitting her again.

Rex Roth. Sniveling weenie. Famous reporter for the Starlight City News Network. Well known around the world as the only man to get exclusive interviews with numerous heroes and villains including Fialux, and apparently an aspiring supervillain in his own right.

He ascended stairs on the other end of the newly revealed lair, I guess he did use the ground floor, to what could only be described as a lavish throne.

When I say lavish we’re talking the kind of thing I'd be ashamed to sit on if I ever managed to take over the world. And as far as I could tell he hadn't even launched any plans to try and take over the world, or even the city for that matter.

Talk about an overinflated sense of self-worth. Not that I was surprised to see that coming from Rex Roth. The asshole.

"Bravo, Selena," Rex said. "Bravo. I guess Night Terror’s toy means my little deception has been discovered. I knew that computer would be useless.”

His eyes did that weird mind control thing again. Which didn’t do jack or shit to me because I knew what was coming and was compensating for it with my contacts. Also? It didn’t hit Fialux thanks to her identical contacts that were doing the same filtering.

I wondered if he realized that. Probably not.

“Rex Roth is Shadow Wing?” I said, still having trouble believing it as I looked him up and down in his ridiculous all black getup, minus the equally ridiculous mask.

“Is that really so hard to believe?” he asked, sounding insulted that it was so hard to believe.

I looked him up and down. “Please take this the wrong way because that’s totally the spirit its offered in, but you don’t exactly look like the kin...

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The original was posted on /r/hfy by /u/daecrist on 2025-05-12 19:34:59+00:00.

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“You know. Calling me a bucket of bolts isn’t terribly nice. And that’s a gross understatement of exactly what goes into creating a Combat Intelligence in the Livisk Ascendancy.”

“That’s so nice for you,” I said, doing another circuit of the room.

This time I was looking at the gold and silver lines inlaid all around the room. I figured there was a chance that gold and silver created a pattern. If I followed it then maybe I could tap something and it would be like an old episode of Scooby Doo where it opened a secret passage.

Hopefully there wouldn’t be an old asshole in a fright mask on the other side of that. Though given everything else that’d happened to me lately, I’d hardly be surprised if that happened as well.

Also? I could tell myself I’d been in worse situations than this before, but I knew I was lying. I’d never been in a situation like this before. This was the Kobayashi Maru, and I didn’t have a way to reprogram the simulation to create new conditions for victory.

Hell. I didn’t even have an apple to chew on while I smugly informed the world that I didn’t believe in the no-win scenario.

I was putting on a show for the sapient listening device watching everything I did. Sequel trilogy. It could even read my vital signs, and it picked up on things that were outside of Terran standard in those bio signs.

I wondered how many people had been put through torture and experimentation over the years for the livisk to get that kind of information. Or maybe the source was something more benign. Maybe they’d just stolen a medical textbook at some point along the way.

I shivered. I’d heard rumors of places where humanity did experiments on the livisk, and I’m not talking about the kind of experiments you saw on galactic net videos coming out of some of the border regions where the conflict wasn’t quite as hot. Places where humanity and livisk had come together so they could come together on screen.

Literally.

Giggity.

The point was, I didn’t want to let the sparkly blue bastards know I was past the event horizon without a working FTL drive to get my ass out of this.

I sat down on the bed again. It was the only thing in the room, so why the sequel trilogy not?

No way out. Varis wasn’t even in here gloating about how she was going to kill me for daring to defy her or shoot her.

I suppose that was a good thing. Sort of. I was still amazed I was alive after shooting her. I figured I would’ve been shot right there. Or I would’ve gone to sleep bathed in that warmth and never woken up.

I knew a few commanders who would’ve done the same thing. I might’ve considered doing the same thing if I’d been the one getting shot by an enemy combatant on my ship.

But again, there was that link protecting me. Sort of. Maybe. I didn’t know enough about it to know how far that protection extended.

I knew her compadres hadn’t looked happy about me shooting her. Not one bit.

“So are you going to tell me what exactly I’m supposed to be doing here?“ I asked.

Again there was a momentary pause.

“I believe you are expected to dine.”

I blinked. “Excuse me? I’m expected to dine? Did I hear that right?”

“Yes. General Varis would like you to join her for dinner.”

“Exactly what time is it?”

“It is evening,” Arvie said.

“You’re not going to give me a more exact time?”

“It’s my understanding that humanity has trouble adjusting to the thirty-hour day/night cycle on Livisqa,” Arvie said. “I’m trying to ease you into this without you having a nervous breakdown.”

“Honestly? If I’m not having a nervous breakdown as a result of everything else that’s happening? I don’t think having a few more hours added to my day is going to bother me too much,” I said, looking up and around with a grin.

I couldn’t even see the camera the thing was using to keep an eye on me, but if it was a sufficiently advanced Combat Intelligence then it didn’t hatter that I couldn’t see where it was seeing me.

I suppose it could’ve been worse. Having dinner with her. I could do that. I’d heard stories about other ways livisk used their captives. Stories of brothels where humans were put to work.

I shivered as I thought of being put to work similarly with the alien general holding me captive. I wasn’t sure whether that thought was terrifying or exciting, and I hated how my body was betraying my duty to humanity at some of the thoughts suddenly running through my head.

Even if humanity had turned its back on me by posting me in a place where I cold get caught like this in the first place. Honestly. Why couldn’t the CCF mount a rapid response at the edge of their fucking home system to save one picket ship?

“You are showing elevated levels of various biological markers again,” Arvie said. “Would you like me to give you a nice hot drink? Perhaps a little bit of alcohol? I’m told that soothes humans. Even though I don’t understand the biological impulse to poison yourself to the point of being senseless.”

“No, that won’t be necessary,” I said with a sigh.

There was no point in getting upset. Not at the livisk who’d captured me. Not at humanity who’d put me in this position in the first place.

I’d escape instead. I’d kill every livisk motherfucker I came in contact with. I’d make them regret the day they ever took me captive.

Just like I’d made General Varis regret the day she let me get into her kill box with her sidearm still strapped to her. I’d beat this woman twice. She got lucky once, sure, but I could do it again.

“Damn it.”

I fell back against the sheets. I guess this was better than a sterile medbay. Or a prison cell. Or down in one of their reclamation mines.

Again, my mind wandered to my crew. To that reclamation mine I’d seen off in the distance. The Combat Intelligence was sending me a message there, and I’d heard it loud and clear.

I didn’t yearn for the mines. My crew didn’t yearn for the mines. I needed to figure out a way to get them out of there.

“So when is this dinner, Arvie?” I asked.

“You are expected to be ready in an hour,” he said.

There was a sudden growl from my stomach. I looked down and blinked. Well okay then. Apparently my body could use some fuel.

I wondered what they fed me when I was stuck in that weird medbay thing. Not that it mattered. I was hungry now, and my body was making it known.

“A change of clothing will be provided in a moment. In the meantime, General Varis has provided an entertainment for you.”

“An entertainment?” I asked.

A massive screen winked to life on one of the black walls opposite my bed. It was set at the perfect viewing angle for me to relax in bed and enjoy a little bit of TV.

I grinned. I guess that was one bit of tech that was the same across species. I wondered if the ancient hominid precursor to all the humanoids wandering this branch of the galaxy these days had enjoyed television as much as their descendants did.

I recognized Toril Jak, anchor for the Interstellar News Network.

“And in other news, Fleet officials continue to state unequivocally that the mobilization of a massive amount of CCF and Terran Navy ships on the outer rim of the Sol system is nothing more than a Fleet readiness exercise that’s part of the extended rescue operation we’ve been reporting on.”

I frowned. I’d been on a ship that was tasked with escorting a carrier he was staying on to a war zone pretty early in my career. That was the one time I was disappointed the ship I was escorting hadn’t been blown up.

I’d heard rumors that an entire deck of that carrier had been given over to him and his entourage as a special privilege. Like he was considered well above VIP.

Which was odd. The CCF tended to keep reporters at a distance. There were rumors that ol’ Toril had a whole heap of stories about corruption and malfeasance at the highest level of the Fleet that he wasn’t sharing with the rest of the world as long as they bent over backwards to make him feel like the next best thing to an admiral on CCF ships.

Which was just a step below being treated like a god.

Funny how that worked out. I wished I had an interstellar audience of trillions to leverage when I lost my ship. Lose one lousy ship without that leverage and suddenly the admirals get all pissy.

I frowned at the unfolding story. Varis selected this for me, which meant she’d probably put it up there to gloat.

Sure enough, my picture appeared up there next to Toril. I leaned forward and started grinding my teeth. My picture up there couldn’t mean anything good.

“The admiralty hasn’t released many details of the picket ship that went missing on the outskirts of the Sol system, but they did indicate that the captain was one William Stewart. He was previously infamous for losing the CCFS Allameraine in an engagement on a border colony world of no consequence.”

I growled. I was aware the CI was recording everything going on here and no doubt Varis would be gloating about this later. Assuming she wasn’t gloating about it right now watching the live feed.

But I couldn’t help it. It was bad enough I got put in this situation by an uncaring CCF who didn’t send someone out to save our asses in a timely manner. Now it looked like they were throwing me ...

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The original was posted on /r/hfy by /u/darkPrince010 on 2025-05-12 18:52:55+00:00.

"I don't blame you; Most don't think them capable of much, until they've found the true danger that Humanity poses wherever they spread.

It's well known that humans are prolific breeders. And while they aren't quite as numerous as something like the Boh-Fre and their litters of pups, they have a faster reproductive cycle and an uncanny knack for being able to find or build the most ramshackle and barely space-worthy ships you've ever seen, and pilot them into whatever atmosphere and surface temperature they can withstand.”

“What was that? Oh, yes, you're correct. They can withstand a great deal more in terms of temperature extremes, ionizing radiation, and micropollutants of all shapes and sizes. However, despite their ability to thrive in far more places than most, no one seems to recognize the dangers posed when humans start to inhabit temperate, mild climates in worlds and metropolises settled by other species.

“I'm sure you've been to many such places, with humanity as but one of dozens or even a hundred different species, all coexisting in peace. Of course, heed my warnings and you'll understand why it is a false peace.

“You see, the humans will first join previous colonists as little more than vagabonds, merchants, travelers; a first wave akin to mold spores drifting onto unspoiled fruit. They will live and breed and die much the same as any other species, but it is not this first generation that one must be wary of.

“Instead, the humans are driven like few others toward stability, which for their kind expresses itself as familiarity. One of the most readily available options for this is, of course, that of industry; a development which humans have, by some arguments, perfected.

“Indeed, many of the more naive colony leaders express enthusiasm for humans to come and settle down amongst their populace, for the humans are rightly renowned for being able to identify the most lucrative and promising areas of manufacturing and refinement that a colony could incorporate and leveraging that, enriching both themselves and the colony as a whole many times over.

“It's a trend you've no doubt seen on several worlds before. But answer me this: how many of those worlds would be ones you would seek to live in, to place your own family upon?

“Now you start to see the shape of it, the teeth that lurk behind the enticing bait. The human industries are marvelously profitable, but as a rule, that profit does not come birthed from a vacuum. Instead, it comes because humans cut corners, are reckless with waste, and will even gamble with their own health if it means eking a beneficial percentage out to improve a profit margin.

“The result is one that most civilizations would consider terraforming. But for humans, it is not a matter of making an uninhabitable world habitable for them, but instead gradually being careless enough that any world they inhabit is polluted and toxic enough that, indeed, only humans dare to try to survive on it.

“I know of a dozen worlds that were once metropolitan hubs, meeting places of science and industry and the nexus between multiple empires and civilizations. But now, only humans dwell there, under green-brown skies and drinking from wells that bubble and reek of foul runoffs.

“The actual humans who owned the factories and industries that caused the damage have moved to greener, cleaner worlds, as they always do; the predator leaving behind the carcass it could not be bothered to finish, for the scavengers to pick clean.

“With each generation, with each passing year, the planets humans inhabit become fouler, more blighted, and less capable of supporting even the meanest forms of life. It is a trend that has played out before and again, but few acknowledge it or accept it.

“I urge you to stand firm, and remember that growth without limitation, such as the humans always offer, can never be anything but cancerous.”

Following recommendations by Lore Historian Em-Lett the Thirdborn, the Shau-Red Colony was the first on record to refuse entry visas and settlement permits for human colonists. However, less than three solar cycles later and following the the Human Economic Alliance of Worlds contributing several million credits towards the election campaigns of a number of colony council opponents, a majority of the previous council members where ousted in a snap election shortly thereafter. The following revote on the human colonist permits was passed in a 5-4 vote.

Enjoy this tale? Check out r/DarkPrinceLibrary for more of my stories like it!

r/WritingPrompts: Anglerfish have an angler that they use to trick prey into thinking there's something for them to eat. Humans are like those anglers"

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The original was posted on /r/hfy by /u/Tigra21 on 2025-05-12 18:48:36+00:00.

Well Tom had certainly had an interesting chat with their latest two arrivals. They truly were the adventurous sort. The Indiana Jones duo of this world. One upside to all the crazy stories they had to share was that his own didn’t seem quite so unbelievable anymore by comparison.

Now he just had to convince Rachuck that all was well, a task more or less on par with convincing a hypochondriac that the cough they have was in fact not life threatening. 

“And they seem to have believed you?” Rachuck questioned, evidently skeptical. Tom could see why. Everyone agreed the old story they had come up with for his origins was a bit out there, but it beat the truth.

“So far yeah, apparently they haven’t actually bothered with going that far north yet. And I know from Joelina’s dreams that even whites have limits on how far they can go.”

“What are you on about? Far north?”

“Remember Lord Joakim? The old story we spun for visitors?”

“Oh please don’t tell me you recounted that to them.”

“Relaaax. Gave them the whole spiel just like we practiced way back, in case of any guests.”

“This is a disaster waiting to happen. I wouldn’t be at all surprised if half the people here don’t remember a word of that lie. The moment she starts asking questions-”

“Oh yeah and I didn’t tell them about the Inquisition either. They don’t seem too keen on that lot, something about running away from them when a certain someone tried to press them into working for them.”

“And who is this certain someone?”

“Weeeell…”

“Oh please don’t tell me it is someone we know.”

“Yeah I think they are sorta, slightly… on Joelina’s wanted list. Or at least the list of things she would love for Christmas. But they haven’t really done anything wrong, so it’s not like they are actually wanted by the Inquisition. I bet you it’s got to do with that trip to the north. Good news, I’m getting fewer and fewer of those visions. Bad news, I ain’t got the ending yet.”

“I would think that you no longer getting visions of the Inquisition’s private matters counts as a very good thing indeed. But you do realize what will happen the moment archivist Paulin wakes up, yes?”

“Relax, I’m sure they will be gone long before then. They got a trade route and stuff to do after all. I bought a few things and claimed a favor for some food, oh and they did agree to the whole helping with a hunt or two thing. So that’s all sorted out.”

“I suppose that is a bright side yes, and it is not as if we must explain in detail how we acquired raw meats in the middle of winter. Though I fear Dakota may be a little… displeased. Nunuk as well for that matter.”

“Why? It’s fresh food. We could also just say a trader brought it. Not technically lying.”

“No, but highly unlikely. And the hunts for the year have concluded. We are not supposed to be doing any more hunting. Though it is not a situation I remember us being in ever before.”

“Better to ask forgiveness than permission then. Besides Nik and Elsa will be doing the hunting so technically it isn’t even us doing it.”

“Are you not planning on taking part?”

“I mean… maybe, we’ll see. That’s the tiniest dragon I ever saw. I’m not even sure he’ll take a second rider. Though she could fly herself I suppose. You okay with them taking me off like that?”

“Very good point,” Rachuck replied thoughtfully, Tom rather wishing he could take the words back in his mouth. “They could hold you for ransom, or abduct you. That would be a disaster.”

“Come on man, they are a pair of adventurous kids. Not mercs. Hell they won’t even take mercenary work, they made that very clear when I started talking favors. Young and dumb that’s all.”

“Yes, they do seem very young to be out this far, but it is far from unheard of. It has bit them though, the dragons young age and small size would be far better suited for delivering messages than goods. Their meager selection betrays that fact, least of all while having to carry her some of the way as well.”

“Welp, he ain’t leaving her that’s for sure. They are cursed to each other, part of why she can stand the cold. Though I ain’t got a clue how that might work.”

“Yes, you said so already. Very well, let them stay in the greeting hall for now. We shall share some of our provisions as promised, though try not to be too generous. I doubt they will be able to earn back what they are given.”

“Come now man, cut them some slack, it’s just a pair of kids who fucked up a bit. I’m sure they’ll learn in the future, and it sounds quite handy to have a debt or two with a white dragon. Even if he’s young enough Arch could carry him around. Oh that reminds me, gotta get some frost powder out of him.”

“Best of luck. I shall tend to the sleeping. Keep an eye on them, we do not want to risk any surprises.”

“Yeah yeah, brighten up old man, it’ll be fine. Maybe she’s a better sparring partner than me, who knows?”

“Okay, spit it out, where is she?”

“I uhm… I like, totally don’t know,” Nik tried, the dragon about as convincing a liar as Kiran with cookie crumbs around his snout. 

He had retreated almost all the way up into a dark dingy corner of the greeting hall under questioning, flickering lantern light making deep dark shadows behind the bright white dragon. 

“I ain’t buying that for a second. Where is she and why are those tarps not covered in a dusting of snow anymore?” Tom questioned, a little more firmly gesturing towards where Jarix’s press had been hidden away and covered for the winter.

“I told you man, I had a great nap and then she wasn’t here anymore.”

“She cannot go very far from you without it being a problem, you said so yourself. How far can she go?”

“Gee, I mean if I like, try and feel it in my gut you know, I’d say like… Definitely inside this keep somewhere, for sure…”

Tom just stared at the dragon doing his best to seem unimpressed. He doubted it would help though. From what he had learned of the two of them, there was no way in hell Nik would betray his accomplice and appealing to authority would do more harm than gain.

“So you come in here, I stick my neck out for you and this is how you repay me? By going through my stuff.”

“To be fair it’s sus as fuck,” the dragon finally admitted. 

“So you have been going through our things then? Is that why you are here? To spy on us? Or looking for a little blackmail?”

“Dude, no no no. I ain’t down for anything like that. She’s just… I mean come on what even is that thing?” He gestured at the covered up press. “Can’t leave something like that for us. We gotta know more now.”

“Well get her back here, before Rachuck finds her. He’ll have a fucking fit if he catches her snooping around.”

“I mean, she’s just doing a little exploring, it’s what we do man.”

‘At least we’re getting somewhere now.’

“Well you are exploring some stuff that belongs to someone who’s still kicking, not a dead abandoned ruin. Get her up here and maybe, just maybe I’ll answer some questions. And if she sticks her head in the wrong thing around here she’s going home in a sack.”

“You’re gonna kill her just for having a rummage around? Duude!” the dragon replied with horror.

“No, but if she decides to mess around with a bomb, it sure as hell will.”

“Oh…. Ahr shit.”

“Indeed, among other things. So where did she go?”

“I uhm. I mean that way,” Nik finally yielded. “Towards the main gate leading outside.”

“And how in the fuck did she manage that? We didn’t open the gate.”

“Oh uhm, I just lifted it a little. Shoulder push, you know? She’s very good at getting through slippy spots.”

“And then what? The windows are barricaded. And she ain’t getting through the doors below. Not to mention the damn storm.”

“She is a very good climber, oh and she has a crowbar,” Nik replied, as if that explained away everything.

“Of course she does. Rachuck is gonna lose his shit I swear. Right, don’t call her just yet. MAYBE, maybe we can still get away with this. God fucking dammit.”

It wasn’t so much that Tom was afraid Rachuck might kick out their new guests, though he very well might. He just didn’t want his face rubbed in the fact their new guests managed to stay in line for no more than a couple hours. 

Besides, it was certainly what he would have done if given the chance. Heading back through the doors to the main hall and making sure to shut and bar the door behind him, he made his way down. He hurried at first then slowed to a sneak, rubber boot soles giving him an edge few dragonettes could hope for. 

It did not take very long before he heard the whir of either the lathe or mill turning on and he quickened his pace towards the workshop. As he made it to the door the machine once more fell silent, accompanied by a female cursing under her breath. Weighing his options Tom elected to put his ear to the door for now. To his knowledge there wasn’t anything inside more dangerous than the mill and lathe, and hopefully one thing coming alive would keep her from pressing any more buttons.

There was silence for a moment, as she likely listened for any approaching footsteps. Tom as well kept an ear out for the clack clack of Rachuck’s clawed and armored feet. But none came.

“Pheew, I don’t think they heard that. Right then, what is this thing?” It came from inside, Tom listening intently. “It spins… and it… I don’t know does something. Does it print runes maybe? Naaah, there isn’t any magic on it at all. Aside from that thing whatever it is… hmmmm. I wonder if-”

Fearing she might be about to ...

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The original was posted on /r/hfy by /u/SciFiTime on 2025-05-12 18:29:58+00:00.

I thought I knew what war was. The kind of war we, the Kalrex, have waged across the stars. I have led our forces through countless campaigns, seen entire civilizations crumble beneath our might. We are masters of tactics and conquest, an unstoppable force of nature. But nothing, absolutely nothing, could prepare me for the humans.

I had heard the rumors, of course. The stories of their… ferocity, their ability to adapt, to fight back in ways that made no sense. I thought they were exaggerations. Wild tales spun by soldiers who had too much time to think between battles. But when we found them, when we finally encountered humanity in the far reaches of the galaxy, I realized just how badly I had underestimated them.

We, the Kalrex, had been hunting them for years, thinking them to be a primitive species unworthy of our attention. It wasn't until we captured a few of their kind that we learned the truth. They were not as weak as we believed. They didn’t bend to fear. They didn’t break when we thought they should. In fact, their willingness to fight made no sense. A warrior who knows he’s outmatched, yet charges forward without hesitation, without doubt? That’s a mind I cannot comprehend.

I still remember the first time I truly understood the nature of their strength.

We’d landed on a small, uninhabited moon, the perfect place to test our new weapon, the “Containment Pods.” These devices were meant to subdue and break any sentient species with minimal effort. When we captured the first human soldier, I was certain it would be no different than any other species we had subjugated. We would imprison him, extract what we needed, and move on. That was the plan.

We tossed him into the containment chamber. The humans weren’t fighters by appearance. He was small compared to our warriors, frail even. His uniform was worn, covered in dirt and stains, nothing like the polished, elite armor of my troops. I expected him to crumble. To beg for mercy.

Instead, he laughed.

A low, guttural laugh, filled with mockery.

And then, he spoke. "You think you've got me?"

We’d tried everything. We starved him, exposed him to harsh conditions, forced him to endure pain. Nothing broke him. Every time he was pushed to the edge, he'd look up and smile, smile. I’d never seen anything like it. The other Kalrex warriors grew confused. And that’s when I first realized we had made a mistake. We weren’t dealing with prey. We were dealing with something else entirely.

But it wasn’t just that. It was the way he fought when they attacked. The first real combat we had with them came not in the form of a well-planned assault, but in a series of ambushes. They had no respect for tactical planning. They fought without fear, without hesitation. There was no strategy, no finesse. They simply attacked.

When they breached our perimeter, I was leading a small unit of our elite soldiers. I had expected us to outmaneuver them, to crush their resistance. But instead, we were ambushed. Outnumbered. And surrounded.

I remember thinking to myself, "This is it. This is the end."

And that’s when I saw it, the one thing that completely shattered my understanding of warfare.

A human soldier, covered in blood and grime, charged directly at me. His weapon was crude, a mismatched thing cobbled together from various materials. Yet he moved with a sense of purpose that made me pause for a fraction of a second. He was fast, faster than I had anticipated. He threw himself into the fray, weaving between our soldiers as if he were a shadow.

I ordered my men to engage. They fired. We fired. But it didn’t matter. The human soldier didn’t stop. He kept coming. I saw one of my own fall before me, a Kalrex warrior twice his size, his body crumpling under the sheer force of the human’s attack.

And then, it happened.

The human reached me, and in that instant, everything slowed down. I had thought myself prepared for anything, but when his weapon struck, I felt something I had never felt before, fear.

I blocked the strike, but it wasn’t the weapon I feared. It was the rage behind it. There was nothing, nothing normal in his attack. It was pure, unrestrained aggression. And that was when I knew. The humans didn’t fight like any other species I had ever faced. They didn’t fight for victory. They fought for the fight itself.

The combat was chaotic. A blur of motion, violence, and death. My warriors had always been trained for precision, for control. We didn’t fight like this. And that’s what made them dangerous. The humans didn’t care about precision. They didn’t care about control. They didn’t care about the rules of war. They only cared about winning. And they would do whatever it took to survive, to kill, even if it meant throwing themselves into certain death.

It was in that moment, amidst the chaos, that I finally understood the true nature of the humans. They were not just another species to be conquered. They were something else, something that, if left unchecked, could shatter everything we had worked for.

As I stood there, facing this human soldier, I realized just how badly I had miscalculated. Our strength, our strategy, our technology, none of it mattered. The human had something far more dangerous: an endless will to fight.

I barely survived the encounter. When I was pulled back to safety, bloodied and battered, I could hear the laughter of the humans echoing in the distance.

We had underestimated them.

And now, we were paying the price.

That was the first encounter, the first taste of what humanity could bring to the table. Since then, I have learned to respect them, even fear them. They may not be as advanced as we are. Their technology might not rival ours. But the one thing they have that we will never understand is their endless hunger for war.

And that hunger, I fear, may one day be our undoing.

After the first encounter, I thought I had learned the lesson. I thought that I understood the humans, at least enough to strategize against them. But I was wrong. They are unpredictable, and their capacity for violence is beyond anything I’ve ever encountered. You can’t fight them with tactics, not the way we know tactics. Their combat style is a chaos that is both alien and terrifying. You think you have them cornered, you think you’ve figured them out, but they will surprise you. They always do.

After the ambush, we decided to regroup and adapt. Our forces retreated to a nearby system, and we recalibrated our approach. This time, we were ready. We would hunt them down, methodically, using our superior numbers and firepower. We would isolate them, break their lines, and crush them piece by piece.

I remember the day we launched our counteroffensive. We deployed our forces onto the battlefield. The human base was situated on a rocky terrain, perfect for a full-scale assault. Their numbers were small, just a few hundred scattered across the surface. It would be a quick victory, or so we thought.

We hit them hard from the skies, sending our dropships in first, followed by our ground forces. We expected them to scatter, to break under the weight of our onslaught. What we didn’t expect was how they responded. The human soldiers, wearing little more than makeshift armor and using simple firearms, stood their ground and fought.

They didn’t retreat, they didn’t flee. They fought. With everything they had.

I led the charge, pushing forward with my troops, but as we advanced, I saw something I didn’t expect. A human, just a single soldier, stood in our path. His weapon was nothing compared to the high-powered energy weapons we wielded. It was an old-fashioned firearm, primitive by our standards. But he didn’t hesitate. He fired on our front lines with deadly accuracy. The first few of my soldiers went down, hit in vital areas before they could even react.

It was a reminder of how dangerous they were, how resourceful.

We moved forward, but it wasn’t long before the battlefield turned into a nightmare. The humans used their environment to their advantage, setting up traps, ambushes, anything they could to slow us down. They fought with a brutality that we were not accustomed to. Every soldier was a threat, even the ones who seemed the most outmatched. I saw one of my best warriors, a Kalrex commander known for his strategic brilliance, stumble into a human trap, a pit lined with sharp spikes, designed to catch the unsuspecting. He was impaled in seconds. The human soldiers didn’t even pause. They simply shot him dead as he tried to free himself.

That’s when I realized how we had misjudged them. Humans don’t think like us. They don’t follow the same rules of war. For them, survival is the only rule, and they’ll do anything to ensure they survive. There’s no honor, no strategy, no holding back. Only killing.

I had always thought we, the Kalrex, were the apex of warriors. We had always been the ones to impose our will upon others. But humanity? They didn’t care about the rules. They fought because they enjoyed it. They didn’t see war as a means to an end. For them, war was a way of life. And it was terrifying.

As the day wore on, I found myself struggling to keep up. My soldiers were being picked off one by one, not by superior firepower or tactics, but by the sheer will and recklessness of the humans. They would throw themselves into the fray, knowing full well they were outmatched, but they fought with such rage that we couldn’t keep up. They didn’...

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The original was posted on /r/hfy by /u/RangerFrank on 2025-05-12 17:13:27+00:00.

Cover|Vol.1|Previous|Next|LinkTree|Ko-Fi|

TL;DR on where I have been: Family vacations/graduations led me out of town. IRL issues conflicted with the last post, as did my own mistake. All is well now, and we are back to our regular schedule.

If you were stressed...my bad. But a good reminder to join the Discord, I keep everything up to date there, so drop by for the notifications and the community :D

Kaladin Shadowheart’s POV.

What? Where am I? What—what happened? I remember being with Ms. Taurus at camp in the forest, then a sudden fog rolled in, and that was it. So how am I—

“Finally awake, Kaladin?” Bowen asked as he sat at a fire with his back to me.

I looked around, and we were at the back of a stone cave. It was much darker here, and it didn’t appear we had retreated to the first floor. But at the camp, it was just Bowen, a sleeping Ms. Taurus, and myself.

“What happened?” I asked, my head pounding and my mouth dry.

“To summarize quickly, we were separated into two groups of two and two groups of three and moved to two distinct areas on the second floor. Your two groups faced a forest that was overtaken by a fog that would put you to sleep but had a minimal amount of monsters while our groups weathered a blizzard with many Yetis pouring out,” Bowen explained.

“I see…so Sylvia must have cleared our floor as the fog wouldn’t have put her to sleep and…” I trailed off.

We got incredibly lucky. How in the world were we meant to beat that fog? Was there something we missed on that floor?

“Varnir and I managed ours,” Bowen filled in while still having his back to me.

“Then what’s the situation now?” I asked, sitting up and rubbing my head.

“We all took a set of stairs downward in our respective areas that appeared after defeating the floor boss and arrived together on the third floor,” Bowen said.

“From there, we have worked our way through this floor and discovered two major issues, and we have overcome one of them.”

I took out some water from my ring and sighed as I quenched my dry mouth. “Just how long have I been asleep?” I murmured.

Bowen hummed to himself and shrugged. “Difficult to say, but at least a day,” he said.

“So the first issue. I assume it has something to do with a cave system and monsters?” I guessed.

“That would be correct. This cave system is filled with a unique type of monster. To describe it best, it's a giant-shelled creature with razor-sharp claws capable of cutting out these tunnels. These monsters lay in wait and attack alone with overwhelming speed. But Tsarra and her illusions have made quick work of them, baiting them out of their hiding places. Although these creatures have tried to collapse two tunnels so far,” Bowen went on to explain.

“Then there is something more out there?” I asked.

Bowen nodded. “Correct. Beyond the cave system is a far larger problem looming over us. Since you haven’t been to Krunbar, you may not know, but inside the mountains are immense ravines that can be found underground. The Dwarves use these ravines to build forts on one side called bastions. They are typically connected via bridges to the other side of the ravine,” he said.

“And if it were as simple as being empty, then we wouldn’t be here,” I added.

“Correct. The bastion is manned by many undead and is showing signs of intelligence. They are firing arrows and using strange magical weapons we have not seen before to hold us at bay. A frontal assault may be impossible. Currently, we are looking for alternative routes through the caves, but our efforts so far have amounted to nothing,” Bowen said with a sigh.

Strange magical weapons?

“I see…what are the odds we found an alternative route?” I asked.

Bowen shook his head and said, “Nothing but wishful thinking, in my opinion. It was the only option while we waited for the two of you to wake up.”

I went over and sat down by the fire. Bowen had his eyes closed, most likely concentrating on his Golems somewhere in the dungeon.

“Is the bastion still in good condition? Or can it be blasted through?”I asked.

“Well, you can see for yourself. I’ve alerted the others. They should be making their way back down.”

—

“Are you feeling better?” Sylvia asked me in a low voice as we walked down the narrow tunnel into the darkness.

I looked ahead at the single flicker of light and the faint movements of Tsarra’s illusion as it led the way. “Yeah, I just needed some food and water. Thankfully, that’s all. Things could have ended up far worse if it weren’t for you. Thank you for saving everyone,” I said earnestly.

Sylvia looked to the side and nodded as she mumbled, “Of course, what was I going to do? Just leave everyone?”

Of course not.

I smiled to myself and looked over to Cerila. She gave me a small wave, and I signed, <How about you? Are you feeling better?>

<Yes, just fine, actually. I woke up much sooner than you did. Sylvia must have protected us from the fog so we didn’t take as much in. But for some reason, I have been still feeling a little…sluggish.> Cerila signed with a shrug. 

<Probably just an after-effect. I’m also feeling that way.> I signed back. 

Lord Vasquez abruptly stopped us by raising his hand. He put his flaming fire orb to the ceiling and narrowed his eyes. We could see clearly that something had stopped trying to cut its way into the cave ceiling. Judging by the rocks on the floor, it had stopped long before it could carve out a hiding place.

Lord Vasquez put a finger to his mouth as he eyed Sylvia and me specifically before lowering the light on his spell. With that signal, I made my way to the front of the group. Varnir and I would use our spears to hold the creature back at first, while Lord Vasquez and Professor Garrison would dispatch it.

But that was only if I couldn’t deal with it myself.

I had felt rather useless in the dungeon so far. I ended up falling victim to a trap that put my life in the hands of others, and I wasn’t even able to lift a finger. I didn’t want to be a burden here, and I definitely didn’t want to feel helpless. Maybe I was venting my frustration. But whatever monster showed itself was going to be very unlucky today.

We crept as the illusion maintained a reasonable distance away from us. With a few more minutes of walking, it happened. It was sudden. In a flash, there was the sound of rock breaking, and the illusion, along with its light source, was snuffed out.

I rushed forward with Tsarra’s warning at my back. The tunnel was engulfed in the light from torches and my fire magic, and I could see the monster clearly now. It was well over six feet tall, walking on two legs with a grayish stoney shell along its body. Its head had two giant beady black eyes and a gaping maw of razor-sharp teeth. Antennae drooped along the side of its head and down to its large scythe-like arms.

What kind of demonic lobster is this? This looks like a fisherman's worst nightmare.

The creature’s head snapped right toward us and it was indeed as fast as Bowen had described. I formed my spell core and released it. A fist of earth came from the wall and tried to crush the thing, but it sprinted past, crawling across the wall and onto the ceiling at a blinding pace.

However, it was still a good distance away, and despite its speed, it was big, and this was a narrow hallway. It could only go so many places as it headed straight toward us.

I formed more spell cores, and it must have instinctively sensed them as it leaped off the ceiling. However, before it could touch the ground, the ground below it rose up and crushed it back up the ceiling, pinning it. But with a single swipe of its sharp claws it ripped the stone apart with ease.

Unfortunately for it, that was the least of it worries. As more earth moved to surround the creature it wasn’t able to stop it all. It focused on protecting its upper body, but as it moved, the earth below was swept away, and it tripped over itself and into a small hole.

That moment was enough for my Lightning Bolt to crackle off my spear and race straight toward the monster, hitting it directly in the chest. The creature didn’t even let out a scream as it fell over onto its back, and from a safe distance, I crushed its head with a rock. I went over to it and gave it a firm stab in the chest with my spear, just to be sure.

As they said, the creature was agile and deadly but not exceptionally durable. Magic other than earth magic seemed lethal enough to finish them off with a single direct hit. I inspected its sharp claws and nodded to myself. Those would cause havoc on anyone they touched. If it could easily slice through this stone, then iron or even steel armor wouldn’t keep someone safe.

Professor Garrison whistled as he walked up behind me. “You made that look easy,” he chuckled.

“I’ve had some good teachers in my time,” I said, whipping the purple blood off my spear.

Professor Garrison gave me a pat on the back and I asked him, “How much further do we have to go?”

“Mmm, about another twenty or so minutes of walking, I’d say, as long as those bastards didn’t collapse the tunnels,” he said.

We continued to walk down the dark tunnels, taking...

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source (and more portraits from different games)

Is there any way I can convert my PDF into a dark mode version without converting it into images first and invert that image and combine them, instead simply invert every element in the PDF and make it dark (preserving the original text and hyperlinks). appreciate any help!

here's the video if your curious, I found it interesting:

How Fast Can You Softlock Every Animal Crossing Game?

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=W-Ot8E6aIUM