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The original was posted on /r/hfy by /u/Arceroth on 2024-11-02 13:14:46+00:00.

“November nine two three Tango Golf to, uh, the giant floating island,” the radio in Orlan’s hands crackled, “I was told to treat you as an uncontrolled airfield, but there would be someone with a radio, do you copy?”

“Yup, I hear you,” Orlan replied, covering his eyes against the sun as he spotted the approaching aircraft. There were two of them, though that wasn’t surprising, one was purely cargo while the other held the technical staff needed to set up the equipment along with more stuff. A good portion of the cargo was supposed to be bulk foods like grain, but most of it was communications equipment including a cell tower that would, in theory, allow the entire island full coverage.

“Great,” the pilot replied after a moment, the two aircraft beginning to circle the island, “I was also told there was a runway on the southern end of the island, but I don’t see anything. Over.”

“The runway is basically a large expanse of stone, but it’s flat and hard with no gravel or anything,”

“That’s great, but it’s hard to land when we can’t see a runway. Over.”

“One moment,” Orlan said, looking over at Nallia, who was already busy tapping at the phone. The signal on top of the island wasn’t great, but being near to Bermuda had ensured they could at least get a passible one. After a minute she held up the phone to display a typical runway.

“I’ll handle the markings, you do the lights?” Orlan asked, to which the blank faced woman simply nodded holding up her hands to begin casting. Orlan mimicked her, a spell circle forming first in the air before him, then a larger one half hidden under the ground where the runway started. It passed over the ground, the stone shifting becoming lighter or darker as needed to mimic the paint of the runway. Several lights, largely unneeded in the day, popped up thanks to Nallia’s light magic.

“How’s that?” Orlan asked over the radio once they were both done.

“Well I’ll be, that wasn’t there a minute ago,” the pilot said after a moment, “looks good, giant floating island, November nine two three Tango Golf entering pattern for landing, over.”

Moments later a second voice, presumably the other cargo jet said something similar as both aircraft began their approach.

“I’m still impressed they can make such large things fly without magic,” Lailra commented as the cargo jets began their approach, “they look more like birds than ships.”

“That is intentional,” Nallia replied, “the wing design creates lift when moved through the air at the right angle, just like a bird’s.”

“Is there anything you haven’t researched on that thing yet?”

“It seems to have access to the majority of knowledge on this side, why wouldn’t I make use of it?” Nallia countered, cocking her head. Before they could continue, however, the whine of the jet engines became to loud to easily carry on a conversation. Another wind barrier kept them safe from any wind kicked up as the first cargo jet landed, pulling off to the side to allow the second to land as well. Orlan and his knights approached the first aircraft as the door swung open, revealing a man who glanced down at the ground, over five feet below him and scowled.

“I don’t think we thought this through,” he commented but, by way of replying Orlan lifted a hand, casting a quick spell to reshape the stone of his island into a stairway, “or… never mind. Can we get another one of those by the cargo door?”

Orlan followed the man to the rear of the aircraft where, upon being shown another door, he created another set of stone stairs. The crew of the first aircraft began unloading while Orlan made his way to the second to assist them as well. The second jet was the one with passengers and one of the first figures to make their way down the stairs was a rotund man in a sweat stained suit shirt.

“Fuck, shoulda known it would be hot,” the man cursed as he walked over to Orlan, “Orlan, is there somewhere we can talk?”

“You’re Theo?”

“Ah, right, we’ve never met face to face, yes, I’m Theodor, congressman, whatever, we need to talk.”

“Once I get everything here going we can head back to the castle,” Orlan nodded.

“Do you have AC there?”

“It’s cooler there,” Orlan replied dryly, about to continue when a loud gasp caught everyone’s attention.

“Orlan?” a woman who was halfway down the stone staircase asked softly, looking at the Protector Lord in shock.

“Em?” Orlan replied, his eyes widening in shock as well. The woman, wearing a technician’s uniform for some phone company nearly ran the rest of the way to the ground and over to Orlan where she paused, looking him over, as if ensuring he was real.

“I thought you were dead, we all thought you were dead,” she said softly.

“Rumors of my demise have been greatly exaggerated,” Orlan said with a slight grin.

“You…” she stared her expression of shock shifting slightly to one of surprise before she laughed, throwing herself forward and hugging him, “you’re definitely Orlan,” she said, crying and laughing.

“You two know each other?” Theo asked, sounding surprised.

“This is Emily, my little sister,” Orlan replied with a grin.

“Your older sister,” she corrected without breaking the hug.

“Older, but smaller.”

“We all thought you were dead,” she said again, finally pulling back enough to look at him, “when you vanished… we’d no idea what happened.”

“Turns out I got sent to another world, cool huh.”

“And you became… what, some magic wielding super hero with a giant flying island?”

“Basically.”

“Wait,” Theo interrupted, “he’s been all over the news for nearly the last two months, how is it you didn’t realize it was him?”

“You think I have time to watch the news?” Emily asked, raising an eyebrow, “I’ve three kids, a job and a house to look after.”

“Three?” Orlan asked.

“I wanted two, but the second was twins,” she explained, before turning back to Theo, “but I heard about some magic knight guy named Orlan, but, honestly, I never imagined it would be my brother!”

“What are you even doing here?” asked Orlan, looking his sister over.

“I work for a phone company, was told we’re going to be putting a cell tower up here,” she answered, gesturing to her uniform, “I live in Florida now, so we’re close, but I thought it was odd they asked for me by name. At least, I did until now.”

“Who asked?”

“The government? Whoever was deciding who to send here.”

“Theo?” Orlan asked after a moment in a flat voice, “is this what I think it is?”

“I-I… I don’t know,” Theo stuttered, scrambling for his own phone, “I wasn’t aware of it in any case, but…”

“Orlan?” Emily asked, starting to look worried.

“You haven’t seen the news, but the US has a bit of a beef with me,” replied Orlan.

“What did you do?”

“I did nothing! I just appeared over a major US city in a magical floating island to fight off a bunch of monsters!”

“You broke into the Pentagon,” Theo added.

“After they kidnapped one of my knights!”

“And made a fool of congress.”

“Like they needed me for that.”

“And beat up a bunch of spec ops guys.”

“Who were trying to invade my island,” Orlan sighed, “they started it!”

“Didn’t you lift a submarine out of the water or something?” Emily asked.

“Only for a moment.”

“But you touched one of the US’s boats.”

“Oh shit,” Orlan swore.

“You’re already dead… again,” Emily said with a slight grin.

“What?” Theo asked, seeming confused.

“Never mind,” Orlan sighed, shaking his head before looking at Theo, “if this is an attempt at intimidation or manipulation…”

“You think the government is willing to use me against you?” Emily gasped, “what about my family?”

“I don’t think the government is directly involved, but…” he paused, glancing at Orlan, “can we talk? Somewhere private?”

“Right,” Orlan nodded, pulling away from his sister’s embrace, “you’ll be here for at least a day setting up the tower, so we can catch up over dinner.”

“I’ll hold you to that,” she nodded, stepping back and saying goodbye before heading over to her confused looking colleagues.

“Oh thank god,” Theo sighed as he settled into a plush couch, “walking over a mile, in this heat, you couldn’t have teleported us to the castle or anything?”

“I can only teleport myself short distances,” Orlan answered, “would you like a drink?”

“Got any cold otherworld beer?”

“I’ll see what I can do,” the Protector Lord smirked, speaking to one of the support knights before sitting down across from Theo.

“Do they have magical beer over there? On the other side as you call it?”

“They do, but it would likely kill you, alcohol is a poison and mana only makes it more potent.”

“After that walk I’m tempted.”

“So, what did you want to talk about?” Orlan asked.

“Is it secure here?” Theo asked, looking about the small sitting room.

“Only my knights come here, anything you can tell me you can tell them.”

“Alright… I was contacted by someone a couple weeks ago, belongs to some group called the Sons of Kah-yeen,” Theo said, awkwardly pronouncing the odd name.

“The first mage?” Orlan interrupted.

“What?”

“Kayan, the first mage,” explained Orlan, “it’s a story, or maybe a myth, on the other side. Kayan had a brother named Hevel, back before the world was split in two. Kayan became the first mage and accidentally killed Hevel. As the myth goes, God then punished Kayan by splitting the world between magic and non-magic.”

“That’s… odd,” Theo scowled, pausing as a young woman brought in a couple frosty mugs of beer, smiling his thanks as he took a long sip of the cool drink, “according to the man I ...

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The original was posted on /r/hfy by /u/SpacePaladin15 on 2024-11-02 14:43:47+00:00.

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Memory Transcription Subject: Quana, Jaslip Soldier

Date [standardized human time]: February 10, 2161

Esquo’s Hope was the Jaslip enclave on the Ulchid world, and also the nearest to our prior engagements on the Smigli homeworld. I couldn’t get used to having the Arxur breathing down our necks; my biggest hesitancy was over taking anything that qualified as food to them. Cherise expected to have a rather incomplete diet, but that friendship-encroacher Hysran was happy to show her Yotul and Terran plants that had been brought in case KC herbivores were involved. My primate friend was eager to try the alien food, despite how barebones it was compared to Krev cuisine.  My reservations about compromising the values we stood for weren’t shared by the human.

Regardless, Chief Hunter Kaisal was giving the Ulchids an ultimatum: release the Jaslips, or they would be forced to comply. The three-legged, hypersocial aliens weren’t a military species, and were likely to surrender to us. The trouble was that the Resket fleet surrounding Cieki might have something to say about us rallying troops from Esquo’s Hope, for our eventual raid of the KC’s big players. The Krev and their pink avian enforcers were the real enemy—the claws pressed to the Jaslips’ necks pinning us down, and spreading their lies to justify our deaths. 

What did Arxur know about being on the wrong side of oppression, anyway?

“So Kaisal talked about ‘asserting control over the enclaves,’” I snapped at Zefriss. “What does that even mean? Is your plan for us to bow to you? Because I would never!”

Operative Zefriss lashed his tail. “If it is as simple as you wishing for your own world, then we will see that the KC species all release you. Our kind have been prisoners to the SC, locked away. We…hrr, sympathize.”

A loud laugh interrupted our conversation, as Cherise slapped Hysran on the shoulder in a fit of hysterics. “No! You did not just go there.”

“Did too! So much material with the whole three legs; threes are funny! You know…an Ulchid in a foot race just couldn’t reach the fin-ish line,” Hysran cackled, in another infuriating pun that I couldn’t understand.

“Please. You must’ve spent the whole ride over to this side of the galaxy looking for material on all the KC species.”

“That’s standard for the hunt, Cherise. I never stop thinking of jokes. I like to make others take things…less seriously! Especially when the jokes about these Consortium races write themselves.”

“I’ll bite. Do you have any jokes about us: and I mean the Tellish specifically?”

“Hrr, if there were any good jokes, I was hoping you would Tellus.” 

My blood boiled, as Cherise howled and swatted Hysran playfully with her flimsy hands. She’d looked so happy ever since that damn cannibal had pranced around wisecracking, with jokes that I was left out of by virtue of my language; it was like the human was eager to replace me with the latest, greatest thing. The fact that she wasn’t brooding and depressed after the Arxur arrived—some random stranger shouldn’t have fixed her problems. I’d actually believed she followed me to the JIB for me, but now, I was dirt because I snapped at her once. Once!

“Interesting. Hysran annoys you as much as she annoys me,” Zefriss noted.

I growled, pinning my ears back. “Nice observation. How astute.”

I turned toward the viewport, angling my ears away from Cherise and Hysran. Our confrontation with the Resket fleet around Cieki was imminent, after Kaisal announced our presence with the JIB’s demands. There was no sense concerning myself with things that were much less important than our mission. Just as I had predicted, the militaristic avians were keeping a watchful eye on Consortium worlds, in case the Arxur made another move on our behalf. They didn’t intend to be embarrassed twice, after the dishonor of getting played at Esquo’s Fighters. The birds had come so close to crushing the Jaslip rebels.

The Arxur’s fleet was comprised of drones, and Kaisal’s command ship stayed a ways back; Collective operatives and Jaslip insurgents could board a shuttle to put paws on the ground, if needed. I wasn’t sure that these bloodthirsty menaces would be able to clear the disciplined Reskets, in open combat. The Consortium had an edge in technology, having engineered ships for a century to face the highly-exaggerated threat of the Federation. Perhaps it’d always been meant to use against their own people. There was no leaving, not when that’d make their control slip.

The Krev Consortium will never acquiesce to our demands, even if the Ulchids themselves are unwilling to suffer the consequences. 

The good aspect of the Ulchids being hypersocial was that Aulan had been able to craft a phishing email, and play on that connected nature; it’d gotten us ears into the basic military chatter around Cieki. Kaisal was hailing the Reskets to broadcast his demands, but we could hear their internal dialogue at the same time. On the display feeds, I could see orbital defense platforms revving to life, and the defensive KC fleet bristling with weapons. I had my doubts about this plan; it wasn’t subtle. If we couldn’t take this planet though, there was no hope against the real Consortium strongholds.

We needed more allies than the grays, but they were all we had. It’d be too much to ask for Cherise’s species—the damn humans—to get their hands dirty; Kaisal told us they wouldn’t. I appreciated that they had tried to rescue our species via the Osir Project, but that rescue ended the second they found out we weren’t extinct. Even knowing what we were going through, they’d signed a peace treaty with the Consortium…without advocating for Jaslip liberty at all! Maybe the Arxur weren’t so bad, in comparison to every other indifferent alien.

“Release the Jaslips from under the control of this world’s natives at once!” Kaisal bellowed, as soon as his hail was accepted. I could echo his sentiment, judging by the itch of a growl that constantly nagged at my chest these days. “Carnivores do not belong to you. Free them, and you will not see us loose them by force.”

The Resket commander on screen looked unimpressed. “You declared war on the Consortium back at Omnol. If you wish to negotiate, turn back and handle this the diplomatic way.”

“Diplomacy. Diplomacy. I am not the bumbling Sapient Coalition! I want results, and I want them now—not waiting an eternity for what scraps you might deign to throw us. My demand is reasonable, and I want only your compliance.”

I tuned my ears to the internal chatter, as the avians spoke among themselves. “The Ulchids wish to let them have the Jaslip enclaves; they said they’d be happy to have the trouble ‘out of their oceanfront.’ If those hibernating extremists are so eager to go off on their own, without the blanket of our security, let them. However, it’s not about that.”

“The Consortium was clear that we cannot afford the dishonor of bowing to an invading army, especially after the embarrassment of the Federation’s nonexistence,” another voice answered, on the line we eavesdropped on. “The Jaslips refused to take the civilized route, so we cannot allow them to sow anarchy and make the Resket army a laughingstock. This is not how things get done. The delegates demand that we destroy this Arxur fleet.”

“That’s an order? I respect the hierarchy, but what will the Ulchids think?”

“The Ulchids will get in line for the good of the whole institution; they, of all species, understand collectivism. While I’m not eager to expend more manpower on these dishonorable insurgents who do not respect the rule of law, we have our orders, in no unclear terms. When the Jaslips stop acting like animals, we can reevaluate. Let’s not forget who the Arxur are—the most dishonorable of all.”

“That is true. We cannot let them raid Cieki, and we have no guarantees that the Jaslips will stop gunning for ‘revenge’ even if the Consortium bends to them. Specify our orders?”

“‘Eliminate all trespassers and hostiles from the Ulchid system. Utilize all weapons at the Resket army’s disposal, including orbital defense systems that have been transferred to your control, then help enforce a crackdown on the Esquo’s hope enclave.’ We are well-disciplined and know our tasks. Prepare to fire.”

My blood boiled as I heard the order that the Krev Consortium had passed down, as well as how the Reskets spoke about us inside their own ranks. Jaslips were mere animals to them, because we had no other options to speak up for ourselves. I didn’t even care if Kaisal was going to go out in a blaze of glory here, because we had to give them a lashing they’d remember. If the Jaslip Independence Brigade was doomed despite the outside reinforcements, then it was my new mission in life to take as many of them with us as possible. There wasn’t a sympathetic, kind individual in the Resket’s ranks; the supposedly honor...

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The original was posted on /r/hfy by /u/GermanSchanzeler on 2024-11-02 12:29:57+00:00.

In the year 2024, humanity was cruising along, slightly annoyed by inflation, mildly entertained by holographic cats, and generally oblivious to the fact that it was teetering on the edge of a cosmic catastrophe. One sunny Wednesday, when the sun was looking particularly shiny, an astronomer noticed something odd—a solar flare big enough to fry Earth’s electronics like a cheap convenience store hot dog.

“Uh, boss? The sun just coughed up a Carrington-sized loogie in our direction,” he whispered into his walkie-talkie.

“A what?” came the sleepy reply from his supervisor, who was catching a mid-shift nap.

“A Carrington Event! Like the one in 1859, but bigger. This one’s like…Carrington’s revenge.”

Two days later, the world watched in horror as the sky lit up in psychedelic auroras visible even in broad daylight, stretching from Greenland to New Guinea. GPS systems spun like drunken sailors, cell towers whimpered and fizzled, and power stations around the globe spontaneously erupted into smoke.

And just like that, Earth went dark.

The world’s population blinked and collectively muttered, “Oops.”

No more Instagram, no more online recipes for "Avocado Toast 23 Different Ways," no more TikTok dances to obscure ’80s songs. Humanity, without the guiding light of Google and Netflix, staggered around in a collective digital hangover. But as the initial panic died down, something odd started to happen.

In one suburban American town, Phil the Accountant dusted off a 1950s typewriter he found in his grandfather's attic and began jotting down "Spreadsheets for Beginners" by hand, becoming a local legend. In Osaka, a pair of bewildered teenagers opened a paper map for the first time in their lives and marveled at the unfathomable beauty of *analog* navigation.

In Berlin, Helga von Krause—legendary baker and former social media addict—discovered that, freed from the tyranny of online reviews, she could put just as much salt in her bread as she wanted. Her experimental garlic-sauerkraut scones became a hit in her neighborhood. Soon, neighbors were bartering scones for coffee beans and bicycle repair services.

Humanity, rather than spiraling into chaos, began thriving in unexpected ways.

Without a 24/7 deluge of information, people became calmer. They noticed the world around them—the birds, the sunsets, that curious thing called "silence." Parents began telling stories instead of YouTube links, and city parks became the new social media feed, full of news, gossip, and dubious statistics about urban wildlife.

Months passed, and humans started evolving—well, sort of. Deprived of the soothing glow of phone screens, people’s eyesight improved. Neighbors who’d never spoken began collaborating, forming weird and wonderful skills alliances: “You supply the tomatoes; I’ll knit you a sweater.” Crowds formed around anyone who could play an instrument, tell a joke, or share ancient smartphone tricks. It was a strange, analog renaissance.

Then came the big surprise. After a year of “going dark,” the Earth’s magnetic field slowly realigned, and power started returning. And on one cold Tuesday, a single smartphone flickered back to life in a coffee shop in Helsinki. The owner blinked down at it, torn between the instinct to refresh her notifications and the sudden pang of nostalgia for her new friends in the Analog Knitting Society.

A few days later, humanity as a whole realized that its electronic overlords had returned. But there was something peculiar in the air. Yes, people were happy to have power again. Yes, traffic lights and airport schedules were handy. But as the digital hum resumed, a strange thing happened: people used it…less.

As civilization recharged, humanity took a deep breath. Instead of diving straight back into their screens, people started mixing old habits with new ones. They used the internet to reconnect with distant friends but still showed up in person to their new knitting clubs, outdoor movie nights, and barter markets.

And, most surprising of all, humanity retained a bizarrely cheerful attitude. Life without electronics had taught them resilience, adaptability, and that some things—like a perfect sauerkraut scone—couldn’t be found on the internet.

It was as if, in the face of cosmic catastrophe, humanity had discovered the most ridiculous, absurd, and yet undeniable truth: sometimes, a bit of darkness is just what you need to find the light.

This is an automated archive made by the Lemmit Bot.

The original was posted on /r/hfy by /u/BainshieWrites on 2024-11-02 11:39:28+00:00.

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Based on u/spacePaladin15's universe.

Memory transcription subject: Estala, Prestige Extermination Officer, Krakotl to Venlil Extermination training leader. 

Date [standardized human time]: October 9th, 2136

I balanced the supplies unsteadily in my wings: the still warm Strayu brought from a local bakery, a dozen cans of Sprunk, and a large bag of Yatcha root slices. I walked over to the computer station, all but two of the rows of computers turned off during this rest paw as I dumped the supplies on the table unceremoniously, taking my perch and turning to face the only other person in the room. 

Salek, the junior Exterminator I’d last seen cowering in fear during the initial emergency when the predators had arrived, sat at his own screen to my left, the Venlil looking at me quizzically as I motioned towards the pile of goodies I’d brought. 

“So, thanks again for taking the time here since it’s not your normal shift. I need all paws available for this task and every little bit helps, so help yourself. If we’re still here at the end of the claw I’ll order us something from that new Yotul place.”

Sure, preferably I’d have far more of the herd on this project of mine, more than just a single inexperienced Junior Exterminator, but officially this project was just a simple low priority data analysis: My actual reasons couldn’t be known, of going against the current government narrative and the predatory lies that so many Venlil were falling for. So a single Junior Exterminator working after hours would be my workforce.

“You said it was important, that you had a special data project, about the humans. What exactly is so important that it has to be done right away?”

I gave my wings and full body a stretch as I prepared to get to work, my neck giving a small, audible pop before I turned back to Salek.

“Well, as you know, it’s been 9 paws since the predator ‘refugees’ started landing on Venlil Prime, mixing with the native prey population.”

“Yeah, it's been busy.”

Busy was an understatement, the Exterminator office had been overwhelmed with calls and reports of predator sightings from terrified prey as the things stalked the streets.

“Now logically, you'd expect the predators to have hurt someone by now. While we know they can hold off on their instincts from the original exchange meetings and empathy tests, expecting thousands of predators to not fall to their tainted desire to feast upon a planet of prey goes past all belief.”

“But there haven't been any reports of any human violence.”

I gave a small trill of agreement while Salek’s tail flicked around in confusion, clearly not understanding where I was going with this.

“Exactly! That’s the million credit question. Predators have been on our planet, mingling with the public, for over 9 paws now, but no verified reports of predatory actions. This is not good.”

“Isn’t that a good thing? The humans have arrived, and no damage has been done.”

I gave a sigh, feeling my feathers flatten in despair. How naive was this kid to believe everything was fine, with those things roaming the streets of Venlil Prime? This really was the problem with the Venlil, Tarva and all: Far too trusting, no matter what the actual proven Federation science said.

“No reports doesn’t mean no damage. Where are the injured and killed prey? These casualties should exist by now, which leaves only one answer: They’re somehow hiding their carnage. Working out where and how is the only way to stop it continuing.”

I watched as Salek’s ears pressed against his head in fear of what might be going on right under our beaks, the idea of innocent members of the herd being preyed upon in secret by the predators, never to see the light of day again.

“But-but it might not be the case. How do we know that the humans are hurting people? Maybe they’re telling the truth when they say they don’t want to?”

I gave a small soft chuckle at that, looking softly at the young Venlil sat to the side of me. 

“Predators lie, but statistics do not. That’s why we’re here. We need to collate missing person reports over the 8 districts they are confirmed to have refugee centres at. Then we compare that information to historical trends, and then compare those to the same trends of surrounding districts. Then we’ll have proof. It’s just going to take a lot of hard work going through records and collating the data.”

Salek didn’t look convinced however as I finally logged onto my terminal, grabbing a can of Sprunk and getting ready to start my work before I was interrupted once again.

“What if they’re not lying though, and all this is a waste of time? Bradley said that they don’t even have any instincts, that-”

There was an instant as the Venlil put his paws to his lips as he realized what he said, the name, the very distinctly ‘predator’ name causing me to stop looking at my screen and once again stare at the young Venlil.

“Bradley?”

The tone in my voice made it obvious I knew that wasn’t a Venlil name. Salek’s tail flicked around in worry and anxiety as I stared him down, feathers flaring out slightly as I did so.

“I… I joined the exchange program. Bradley was my partner, he’s… he’s really nice.”

I couldn’t believe what I was hearing. Sure Salek was a Junior Exterminator, but he was still an Exterminator Inatala damn it! I could understand Tarva or other Venlil falling for a predator’s trick to this degree, but he should know better.

“Why?”

I said the single word curtly, filled with disappointment, making it clear I had expected better from him as Salek continued to squirm under my unblinking gaze.

“I- I was sick of being so… scared all the time! I just wanted to stop being scared of humans of everything! I thought if I actually talked with one, it would help me face them…”

Disappointed. I wasn’t angry or annoyed, I was disappointed. Disappointed that someone from the guild would be so trusting of a predator, to fall for their lies. The seconds passed by as I sat there wallowing in despair, at the predatory taint seeping into Venlil society at its roots. Just what power did these predators have to consistently cause Venlil to fall for their trickery?

“Maam… am I fired?” Salek said the words softly, interrupting my silence, causing me to give a deep sigh.

“No. The Exchange program is government authorized. Why would we fire a government member for participating in such a thing?” I gave a small flutter of my feathers, settling back down onto my perch and looking back at my screen, starting to pull up the records that I needed. “And we still have a lot of work to do, firing you would be counterproductive.”

Salek gave a confused beep, tail twitching in confusion as I motioned for us to start the work.

“You still want my help?”

“Well unless the predators have taken your brain and ability to collate basic statistics, I don’t see why not.”

I ruffled my feathers in an annoyed fashion while Salek continued to stare at me with a blank look.

“Aren’t you worried about me being tainted or something?”

Another sigh escaped by beak as I fully stopped looking at my screen to focus on the young Venlil.

“You are not the first Venlil to be taken in by their trickery, and you won’t be the last. Tarva was fooled by them long ago, and she’s still competent enough to run the planet. If I stopped interacting with any Venlil who had fallen for these predators, there’d be a lot of people I would no longer be talking to.” I said the words sternly and simply, making it clear that while I didn’t care for the beasts who had invaded the planet, I wasn’t about to start fighting the innocent prey they had tricked.  “Besides, I guess it’s good to know that you’re safe, for now.”

“Wait, aren’t you worried that I’d be in the most danger?”

At that I gave a small chuckle, turning back towards the Venlil who was so naive.

“You’re officially part of the Exchange program. If anything happened to you, the humans would be the first suspect. They may be predators, but they're smart. They’re not going to do anything that would break their trickery. The only way they’d hurt you is they thought they could get away with it. That’s our problem, isn’t it? Based on how good they are at lying, you’d have to find a way to to get them to eat you on camera to get any solid evidence.”

I saw Salek’s ears once again press against his head, tail stood straight up as he shook in fear at my suggestion, causing me to give out an exasperated sigh.

“I’m not saying do it! I wouldn’t tell anyone to do something I wouldn’t do myself. It’s just… frustrating that with how good the predator’s trickery is, that something this drastic is what we’d need to get solid evidence… It would be an insane idea to actually try, as it would be suicide.”

—-----------------------------

Memory transcription subject: Estala, Human Methods Advisor to the Exterminators.

Date [standardized human time]: March 16th, 2137

I sat in the van, watching the streets of Skalga go by the window while Jkob sat in the other seat. The investigation had been… going. We’d checked on all the easy to find suspects, districts and offices that held multiple easily verifiable Exterminators on our list, meanin...

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The original was posted on /r/hfy by /u/Conofrac on 2024-11-02 11:25:52+00:00.

Just a little something I thought of and felt the need to write down.

The pub was busy. It always was at this time of day. Most people had knocked off work by this time and we're enjoying their evenings having a few drinks and socialising. There was no tension in the air, aside from the air around one patron, sitting quietly in the corner, keeping to themself.

Velik, the bartender, had just finished serving another customer and was cleaning a glass with a rag. His expression was one of boredom. It wasn't much fun watching other people get intoxicated and have a great time doing so while one had to remain sober and sensible. The small degree of resentment he felt towards the pub goers had somewhat diminished from when he had first started working here.

'I guess it is true, you can get used to anything, given enough exposure' he thought.

There was a noise of exclamation from one of the patrons sat at the bar. Velik decided to alleviate his boredom by eavesdropping on the conversation the exclaimer was having with two others sat at the bar with him. Velik shifted as subtly as possible towards them, stopping only when he was in hearing distance.

"...o way!" he heard. "There is no way they can keep going at, well anything that long."

"It's true" said another of the bar sitters. "I have seen it first hand."

"Also, their ability to recover from almost anything is remarkable" said the third.

Velik, still industriously buffing the glass in his hand, tried in vain to discern what they were talking about.

"What do you mean?" Said the first one.

It was at this point Velik spotted the lone, brooding drinker stand and begin to make his way towards the bar.

"Well, I mean what I said. Physical injuries and mental traumas. They have helped a great many others from all species to recover from similar things."

'so' Velik thought, 'they're talking about a species.'

"Yes but, remarkable how?" The first speaker asked again, swaying slightly on her barstool.

"Well, I mean things like broken bones, concussions, even things like organ failure or having a limb forcibly removed. Granted for those more extreme injuries they require intensive medical treatment, but they have a higher survivability rate than any other species. In recovering from mental traumas such as losing a loved one they show an increased ability to..."

The approaching brooder had by now reached the bar. Velik reluctantly walked away from the conversation he was listening in on, letting it trail off into the background noise of the pub.

"What can I get for you, sir?" He asked politely.

"Another Old Hevert" the man, a Mofarll, said.

"Coming right up, sir."

It was as Velik was otherwise preoccupied that the first speaker, further down the bar, spoke up loud enough for her voice to carry.

"There's no way Humans can do that!" She shouted incredulously.

Velik turned and looked at her, finally realising they were talking about. Humans. Of course Velik had heard about them, but he had never met many and when he had, it was only for brief periods of time, usually as long as it took them to order a drink. If what he had overheard was true, then it was no wonder they had forced the Mofarll Empire to accept a truce. Velik finished pouring the drink and turned back around to the Mofarll behind him, drink in hand.

"Here you are, sir" Velik said, placing the glass down. "That'll be..." He trailed off as he saw the look in the Mofarll's eyes.

It was the look of hatred and disgust. The anger that simmered behind those eyes chilled Velik to his very core. It was the sort of anger that could drive a fist through a slab on concrete. It wasn't the blind, heat of the moment anger, that flared up violently before being quelled. No, this was the kind of anger that had been built up over years upon years. Heat of the moment anger was uncontrollable. Those under its grip made mistakes, if in a fight, they were sloppy and flailed wildly. The fury behind those eyes was controlled, held tightly on a lead lest it burn whole countries. In short, the look Velik saw in that face was one that promised violent retribution if deemed necessary by the look giver.

"On the house?" Velik squeaked. The Mofarll didn't respond, instead taking the drink, downing it in one, leaving some coins on the counter and turning towards the exit.

"Thank you" Velik called after him.

The Mofarll once again failed to respond. His quick, confident steps towards the exit only faltered when the door opened and in stepped a Human. Velik saw the Mofarll's body tense and his hands clenched. This might get rather messy.

The Mofarll were a proud species, very honour bound and absolutely ruthless, in whatever they ended up doing with their lives. From fierce worriors to shrewd businessmen to cunning lawyers to relentless inventors and engineers. The Mofarll may not be the leaders in all of these fields, the best of the best, but as a species they were very good at every aspect of modern life in the galaxy. It was, therefore, a bit of a suprise when their war with Humanity ended with the Mofarll as the ones to conceede the victory.

There was a pregnant pause as the two members of the formerly at war species stared at each other before the Human exhaled and began stalking towards the bar, eyes drifting away from the Mofarll, who turned to keep the Human in front of him the whole time. The Human reached the bar and began to look over the labels of the bottles on the shelf behind Velik.

"You're going to serve this filth?"

It took Velik a second to realise that the Mofarll had been addressing him.

"Well, yes. Why is that?" Said Velik, trying his best to ease any tension in the room with his tone alone.

"It's a Human, that's why."

Velik saw the Human tense up again, his jaw clenching tightly.

'De-esclate the situation, now!' thought Velik desperately.

"I'm sorry but we don't like to discriminate here" he tried.

"You should, against scum like that. Civilized people don't deserve to be around such a dishonorable race as Humans."

"Why don't you try addressing me as if I'm actually here...mate" said the Human, coldly.

"Because you shouldn't be here" sneered the Mofarll.

"Yeah? According to who, hmmm?" Said the Human, spinning around to square off with his counterpart.

"Me" said the Mofarll, pointing at himself.

"Now now gentlemen" Velik tried despite the growing tension in the room. "There's no need to go starting any trouble here."

"Oh, don't worry, I won't start anything. Just like Humanity didn't start the war."

"You deserved to be put in your place!" Shouted the Mofarll, finally losing a degree of control.

By now, all the conversations in the pub had ceased and all eyes were on the pair of belligerents. Then tension that, before, had kept itself to the back corner the Mofarll had occupied had now spread its way across the entire establishment, growing in strength as it did so.

"For what? Not kowtowing to you? Standing firm despite your demands? You're people truly are pathetic!"

There was no shout of rage, no hesitation from the Mofarll, he simply leapt at the Human with a seething fury that demanded retribution. He slammed into the Human's chest, knocking them both against the bar. People nearby scattered out the way as the Human and the Mofarll crashed to the floor in a tangle, swinging at each other as best they could before disentangling themselves from each other.

The Human was first to his feet, rolling across the floor away from the Mofarll before springing up. He darted back towards his still rising opponent and struck with a fist. The Mofarll, clearly experienced in fighting, saw it coming and threw an arm in the way to block it. He was still off balance though so the blow knocked him back down. The Human didn't let up, angling a booted foot to connect with the once again prone form of his people's former enemy.

Velik had just reached the silent alarm that was installed in the bar and pressed it, praying that the authorities were nearby.

The Mofarll endured a few kicks and a couple of punches before he managed to roll away from the Human, under a table and out from the other side. He got back up to his feet and took a fighting stance before the Human managed to rush round the table to strike again. The was a pause of a second as the pair glared at each other, then the Mofarll shoved the table, hard. The edge of the table jabbed into the Human's midriff and the force was enough to wind him slightly. The Mofarll didn't wait for the Human to recover. He jumped up onto the table and dived at the Human, piling the pair of them to the ground again and began raining blows down onto the Humans head who was blocking with both arms. The Mofarll, seeing he wasn't getting through the Humans defenses, opted to instead try to strike at his exposed flanks. This change in tactic shifted the Mofarll's balance which allowed the Human to buck his hips and throw the Mofarll off of him. The pair both chose to roll away from the other and regain their footing again.

"I'm going to fucking kill you" the Mofarll hissed.

From the angle he was standing, Velik was able to see the Human's face as his mouth curled upwards at the edges and split open to reveal two rows of flat teeth. Velik had thought that the look in the Mofarll's eyes has been intimidating. It was nothing compared to that rictus plastering th...

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The original was posted on /r/hfy by /u/BlueFishcake on 2024-11-02 11:13:44+00:00.

As William stepped into his office, he couldn’t help but feel that just maybe some of the people inside were annoyed with him.

There was his sister, who was sitting on the couch with her arms folded grumpily over her chest.

Xela was… looking a bit haggard. Which was to be expected given she’d both been de facto running his territory while also overseeing the training of more pilots than any other person on the planet beyond the principals of each nation’s flight academies. And while she was training significantly less people than those venerable institutions, she also had access to significantly fewer resources.

Then there was Piper. Easily the least frazzled of the bunch, but hardly what one could call happy. Which, again, was to be expected given that she was to her knowledge working very hard to make sure a bunch of workshops spread about the country continued to churn out machine components with no as of yet discernable purpose.

Then there was his Aunt Karla… who was visibly admiring the gramophone – the second prototype - that sat in the corner of the room churning out its umpteenth rendition of ‘Ride of the Valkyries’. A song he was growing thoroughly tired of, but as of yet had no alternative to given that he’d yet to make any other recordings.

And while he had the capacity to magic one-up with ease, that would only lead to more awkward conversations as to where he’d gotten it.

“William, William,” his aunt chirped excitedly as he stepped into the room. “You have to tell me how this thing works! And how you came up with it! I mean, it’s playing music. But there’s no magic.”

He smiled. Karla had always been his favorite aunt. Mostly because she was both a bit of a rebel and about as disinterested in politics as someone could be and still be a noble. That she was likely here acting as a spy on behalf of his mother did little to dim his pleasure at seeing her again.

“I’m afraid the details are as of yet something of a trade secret,” he said, ignoring the grown woman’s overexaggerated pout.

“Even to family?” Karla whined.

“I can say that I stumbled across the idea during my research of the Flashbang and Spell-Bolt.” It was more than he'd told anyone else.

Karla frowned. “I know things are a bit… tense between your mother and you, but House Ashfield still has a fair amount of production capability. Certainly more than those merchants you’re working with. If you sent the details back home we could practically print money.”

Across from the woman, Olivia winced in her seat.

For his part, William’s smile thinned. “Given that the secrets to the Flashbang spell and the Spell-Bolt can apparently be found in the annals of the Ashfield library, at least according to my mother, I’m sure you’ll be able to figure it out without me with just a little reading.”

Karla paled a bit at his dry tone, recognizing the foot she’d just shoved into her mouth. One of the unfortunate downsides of being the ‘fun, devil-may-care fighter pilot aunt’, he supposed, was gaffes like this.

Still, neither of those choices had been his aunt or sister’s decision. “With that said, if either you or Olivia wanted one of your own for your personal use, I’m sure my business partners would be happy to provide us with a few early prototypes – along with a few new songs.”

It was a small olive branch on his part, though it was less aimed at his aunt and more at his sister, whose eyes widened with excitement at the thought before she recalled that she was supposed to be mad at him and sank back into her ‘grumpy’ posture.

Glancing over, he could see Piper clearly wanted to say something, even though the dwarf was holding back. Likely some question as to why he was outsourcing the production of such a clearly lucrative product when he had dozens of workshops churning out junk with no real discernable purpose.

Which was a state of affairs that couldn’t last forever. Certainly, while his people were thankful for the employment he provided – the Alchemists most of all – the fact remained that said gratitude would only keep them motivated for so long in the face of work that seemed pointless.

For one thing, he already knew that some of the more curious workers were already trying to piece together the end result of what the many workshops had been working on. Even if he’d not seen it. That was just how engineers were. And even without any kind of knowledge of internal combustion, some of them would be making progress, if only by treating the the many prefabs as a jigsaw puzzle.

“That would be a queenly gift,” Karla said finally. “One I know that both Olivia and I would be very thankful for during our… sabbatical at your estate.”

“Yes, super thankful,” Olivia drawled, eyes narrowed at him. “Sure, it’s not exactly a duchy, but a little box that plays music is almost as good. Almost.”

Ah, sassy teenage sarcasm. How he thanked the lord that the only one who really engaged with that on his team was Olzenya.

Still, he could see the puzzlement that blossomed in the faces of those present who weren’t his family as they registered the half elf’s words.

“A Duchy?” Xela asked.

Before anyone could say anything else, Karla spoke up in an act of savvy normally far outside her wheelhouse. “Olivia, dear, perhaps statements like that should wait until it’s just family present.”

“S’not like it matter now anyway. I’m here aren’t I?” The girl huffed, before jumping from her seat and storming from the room in a huff.

Karla had moved to grab the girl at the last moment, only to pause. For his part, William had tensed more than a little, eyes flitting about for signs of invisible watchers turned assassins. It was an irrational fear he knew, but he felt it all the same.

Indeed, it was with that thought in mind that he made to follow, only for Karla to call after him. “Give her some time, William. The last few days have been… tumultuous for her.”

William frowned, before glancing to Xela.

“I gave her an escort the moment you arrived. They’re just outside the door and will follow at a discreet distance.”

He nodded, belatedly recalling the slightly larger number than average guards that had been stationed outside when he’d walked in.

And there were things he still needed to discuss with the people present here.

Xela’s plebeian-pilot training program. How Piper’s refinement of their Earth-Blood supply was proceeding. As well as the state of the workshops.

Reluctantly, he decided to heed his aunt’s advice.

Though speaking of her, he thought as he glanced at the woman. If she’s here to act as Olivia’s chaperone as well as a spy, I’ll  be putting her to work on the plebian-pilot program.

No program could ever have access to too many competent pilots. And even with the unexpected offer of aid from House Greygrass, William was still woefully short of the numbers he wanted.

I also need to get the alchemists started on making ammunition for my new planes now that the workshops are running properly, he thought. Which means somehow convincing them to go under a geass.

Which would be an awkward conversation all round. It wasn’t like he could just order them to do it.

Hell, not even the Queen could do that.

…And he only had a weekend to do it.

Yeah, Olivia will probably need to wait a bit before I can get around to her. So I suppose it’s fortunate that it’s not like she’s going anywhere, he thought with grim amusement.

It was barely thirty minutes after he’d finished his tour of Redwater county’s many workshops that he found himself alone in his ‘lab’ again.

Though there were a few new additions present. Prefabbed parts straight from the workshops stood strewn about the floor like so many discarded toys.

And connecting each of them was a bit of steel wire. Haphazardly welded in place, it crisscrossed the room, making the whole ensemble look like some kind of absurd spider web – with engine parts playing the role of flies captured within.

And as William raised the hood of his welding mask, he hummed in triumph as he inspected the weld he’d just made on the final piece.

I really hope this works, he muttered to himself as he moved to sit in the center of the room, hands reaching out to grasp the nearest wire.

“Steel. Warp. Hands. Mental Model. Engage. Instant,” he chanted, feeling a sudden hollow form inside him as one of his magical charges flowed out of his soul and into the void.

Where a hungry Fae was ready and waiting to enact his will upon reality in return for the morsel of emotional energy he’d just provided.

Indeed, it was barely a moment before the world shifted around him. Through closed eyelids he ‘saw’ the entire web of parts around him. Hazy and indistinct, but there all the same.

Anything that was steel and connected to that which he held in his hands.

Which was a little absurd. What he was holding wasn’t just steel. Steel was a carbon and iron alloy. But the metal in his hands undoubtedly held other impurities too. Byproducts of the forging process. Yet unlike the other bits of engine part that were made of different materials  - copper wiring and rubber tubing - that seemed as a void to his senses, anything he considered ‘steel’ was clear to him.

And thus malleable.

Because magic was as much about ‘feeling’ as reality. Which made sense, as Fae were the ones who were really doing all this - and they were all about feelings. It just so happened to be that they were using his mind as the interpreter ...

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The original was posted on /r/hfy by /u/Remote-Ad-2821 on 2024-11-01 22:44:31+00:00.

In the universe, in the Milky Way galaxy, on the Orion Arm, in a Solar System, on the third planet, in North America, in New York, down an alleyway, a homeless man was digging through a dumpster for food. Even though no one noticed, the man vanished.

I opened my eyes to find myself sitting in a very grand-looking chair in some kind of office, with a desk in front of me and another chair behind it. I looked around, trying to figure out what was going on. Just a minute ago, I had been searching for something to eat, and now I was... here.

"Ah, good! You're finally here, Markus!" I spun around in my chair to find an old man with a giant white beard reaching his stomach, a gleaming bald head, and dressed in perfectly white robes. The man’s skin seemed to glow, and I could tell by a glance that he had never worked a day in his life. He turned around and closed the door behind him, but just before he shut it completely, I caught a glimpse of thousands of winged people flying back and forth through an endless blue sky with golden clouds drifting by. As the door closed, my eyes drifted back to the man, who was giving me a warm smile. He walked to the chair across from me, took a seat, leaned back, and exhaled, looking at me in silence. After a while, the silence became awkward, but before it went on any longer, he finally spoke.

"So, you want to be God?" he said in an upbeat tone. I blinked in confusion and asked for clarification.

"Sorry, come again?"

At this, he looked a bit more serious and began to explain.

"Okay, look—first of all, I’m God. And, to make a long story short, I was having a drink with a few other celestial beings. I might have had a bit too much and started boasting about how I created the best species and civilization in existence. I bragged that my species was so amazing that any one of them could be a better god than theirs. They told me to put my money where my mouth was, and… well, here we are. I need you to be the god of a civilization to prove I wasn’t just talking big."

Then he continued, looking somewhat exasperated.

"After that, the other celestials started claiming that their species could be gods too. Things spiraled out of control, and we ended up turning it into this big competition. We decided to each choose one member from our created species, turn them into a god, put them all on a planet, and have them take care of a civilization. Whoever has the species with the largest population at the end wins."

I leaned back in my chair, stunned, trying to process everything he had just told me. But one question burned in my mind.

"Why me?" I asked.

At this, God looked a bit uncomfortable before he replied.

"If I chose someone else, their family members would mourn them, or they might refuse. And no one in Heaven would volunteer because they’re already in paradise and would see this as work. But you… you’re perfect. You don’t have anyone who’d miss you or notice you’re gone. You focused only on work, without making connections with anyone."

I wanted to feel offended, but I knew everything he said was true.

"Well, what if I refuse?" I asked defiantly.

He gave me a long look. "Come on, Markus. You spent your whole life focused on your job, and when you got too old, the company you were loyal to fired you because they thought you were no longer useful. Since you focused your entire life on that one career, you don’t have the skills to get another job. You ended up on the streets. Your parents passed away, and you have no friends. You have nothing to go back to. And here I am, offering you the opportunity to become a god, and you’re going to refuse?"

He was completely right. I had nothing to go back to but dumpster diving and barely surviving. Wordlessly, he extended his hand across the desk. I reached out and shook it.

(Using his knowledge of Markus’s life and situation, God managed to trick Markus into accepting the deal. Little did Markus know, he would come to deeply regret making that deal.)

“Did you hear that?” I heard a disembodied, soothing female voice.

“Oh, don’t mind that,” God said, waving it off. “That’s just the Narrator. It’s reading out the universe, but only gods and celestials can hear it. No one knows where it came from or why it’s doing it, and we haven’t been able to communicate with it. Just ignore it.”

(But Markus would come to regret it if he ignored the Narrator.)

"Are you sure? I mean, it’s saying some pretty ominous stuff," I asked him.

"Yeah, it does that sometimes. Just ignore it."

I pulled my hand back to my side, but despite what God said, I decided to keep the Narrator’s words in mind, in case they came in handy. God then got up from his chair and walked towards the door, motioning for me to follow him.

"I’ll explain everything you need to do in more detail while we fly."

I did a double-take. "Sorry, could you repeat that?" I asked, thinking I’d misheard him.

He opened the door again, and I stood beside him as I looked out. I saw the same scene I had glimpsed before: thousands of winged beings—who I now assumed were angels—flying about.

"I… I don’t know how to fly," I told him.

God placed a hand on my shoulder, looked me in the eyes, and pushed me out

This is an automated archive made by the Lemmit Bot.

The original was posted on /r/hfy by /u/Undercover_Dragon1 on 2024-11-02 05:57:54+00:00.

I hope you all enjoy Chapter 14!

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— Chapter 14 — 

David towered over the three tiny kobold corpses laid down in front of him. They were down to thirty kobolds now. These three warrior kobolds were the only ones that David couldn't get to in time and it stung at his core. David had ordered their bodies wrapped up, preserved, and for their bodies to be brought with the group. The remainder of the orcs had retreated after their leader had fallen except for three that were captured by Blue. She had quite literally burned their ability to see out with her affinity, and Red subdued them afterwards. They used ropes, and twine they found on the other dead orcs to restrain them. In total they had slain ten orcs and then their leader. The fight would have gone poorly without Red, Blue, the Crusher Moles, and David himself. Their presence had tipped the balance hard in the other direction despite the massive equipment and side difference between the two species. 

The troll corpse had been dragged nearby and it smelled absolutely foul. David knew he should try and see if he could get a trait. This regeneration might be worth it, but it might not? Either way intel was life or death in this world. Reluctantly he began to tear free large chunks of flesh and consume it. It tasted only slightly better than what it smelled like, which wasn’t saying much. He fought down his urge to throw up and was able to swallow enough that his belly bulged at capacity. 

His prompt pinged him a moment later. 

Giant Hill Troll slain and trait available.

Accelerated Healing - Your body rapidly regenerates and heals at super natural speeds. Your healing factor increases by a factor based on your toughness. The higher the toughness the faster even minor wounds will heal. For every 5 toughness your natural healing factor increases, reducing healing time by up to a full cycle. The more critical the injury the slower the healing factor increases. 

Accelerated Healing trait available. Absorb Y/N? 

David sat on his hunches and pondered for a long moment. David had already found a number of different traits. Some were hybrid abilities that offered attribute increases and abilities. Some were entirely focused on boosting a stat like his Condensed Musculature. This trait was clearly one in the entirely opposite direction. It was an ability that scaled off toughness and it could be very good with the right set up. If he was human it might take on average a week or two for a large scrape to heal on his body without any assistance. In his new dragon body his ability to heal was even higher than that of his old body. His toughness as it currently stood meant he would heal from a deep cut in about a day if he snagged this trait, which compared to his affinity’s capabilities was rather pathetic. 

The troll seemed to regenerate before his very eyes during their fight, even if it was a bit slow near the end. David’s mind pondered and he began to do some math in his head. His higher intelligence made mathematics easier thankfully, one of the few noticeable effects. On the assumption the troll base healing ability was comparable to his own, and that other creatures functioned similarly to dragonkind then the troll probably had a toughness of around 25. It would explain his extraordinarily tough skin as well. It was a powerful trait but it had a counter he could already see. Ultimately the greater the injury the harder it will be to regenerate it. If he were to face another one in the future then he should aim to break or sever a limb to slow it down. It wouldn’t be able to heal fast enough before the fight would be over. Still though… toughness correlated to a creature's resilience to an attack, and the higher your toughness the less damage you would receive and with this trait you would regenerate faster too. A very nasty synergy and one he had no doubt other Dragons in this world had utilized. 

With a sigh he reluctantly declined the prompt. 

David rumbled over to Blue, “I want you to cut up and preserve as much of the remaining meat as possible. Only eat it in an emergency, I want to conduct some tests later.” 

Blue nodded her head and gave David a rather disgusted look. David rumbled in amusement, at least he didn’t have to worry about them eating what remained. Next David had what remained of the orcs corpses piled nearby and the entire group settled in for the remainder of the night to tend to their wounds. David provided a hefty second blast of his healing fog for his kobolds to help their recovery. He planned to help stand watch during the day so he retired early while giving the watch to Red.

When he opened his eyes in the morning he let off a mighty yawn. He noticed a few kobolds curled up nearby him and a large, makeshift tent had been erected around him. He rumbled softly as he made his way out and spotted Red still standing watch nearby. 

“Anything happen while I rested?” David rumbled. 

“Master! No. All quiet.” He answered quickly. Red was squinting his eyes in the morning light.

“Go inside and rest. I will watch the camp.” David ordered. After Red reluctantly departed David made his rounds. The valley was as beautiful as ever and they had made it most of the way down the mountain before being attacked in the night. David’s eyes surveyed the battlefield and he quietly replayed the battle in his head over and over. 

After satisfying his own internal anxiety to do better next time he stumbled upon the pile of Orcs. His stomach grumbled, hungry again, and his mind peaked with a curiosity. What sort of benefit could he get from an Orc he wondered? His human side was partially disgusted by the idea of eating something that walked on two legs and somewhat resembled a human and yet… his stomach, and his nose were telling him something entirely different. He gave in and filled his stomach. David was almost certain that either Orcs did not have a trait or he had run out of luck when his prompt dinged in his mind as he finished off the last pile of meat.

Orc slain and trait available.

Strongest Shall Rule - The biggest, baddest, and strongest shall rule. That is the way of nature! If you are the strongest around you exert a dominating aura. This dominating aura can twist many to your command, while at the very least causing those strong of will to be weary and more accommodating of you. If you find another that is stronger than you, you recognize their strength and will feel a strong need to follow or at the very least accommodate their needs till the time comes to overthrow them. 

Strongest Shall Rule trait available. Absorb Y/N? 

Huh. David stared at the trait. This is something entirely new as well and “dominating aura” sounded fantastic. David decided to categorize this new type of trait as a leadership style trait. David could envision using this trait to draw hordes of orcs to his banner but based on what he had seen of orcs he didn’t think they were good for much besides war. If you were the biggest baddest around then this trait was amazing but if you weren’t it also hampered you. He knew for a fact that both the Worm and the Mountain were more powerful than him. If he had this trait he would feel inclined to accommodate them or out right serve them? What would that look like? Would they simply eat him? Would his own internal logic fail him? David had a very bad feeling about this trait. It felt like it led down a path that would remove some of his own will and choices from the mix as he tried to dominate and then overthrow others. He wasn’t opposed to dominating other creatures but he wanted to be in control and he refused to give that up. 

He didn’t regret declining. 

As the day dragged on he used the opportunity to scout around more. He was getting used to his wings and flying in general. He wasn't fast enough to catch anything else he saw in the air, be it birds or otherwise. As night approached the kobolds began to wake up and David used the opportunity to sneak in a second nap. After waking up a few hours later the makeshift campsite had been disassembled and his little clan were all eagerly standing at attention waiting for him. 

“Master. We are ready to leave when you are!” Blue cheerfully chirped out to him.

“Good. What are we going to do with the prisoners?” David shifted his eyes to the two remaining orcs, the third having apparently died from its injuries during the day. After a quick consideration he rumbled out again in his dragon speak. 

“I don’t think we can trust them, Blue. They would probably work for us but we couldn’t truly trust them.” David recalled the trait they possessed. If that was their very “essence” then he knew he could control them but he didn’t want to have to fear them trying to overthrow him or any of his kobolds in the future. 

“Red will fix.” Red chirped in as his spear flashed before David could respond. The back of each Orc’s head was split open and they collapsed forward in a heap. It wasn’t what he had in mind but he supposed the Geneva Conventions did not exist here did they? Holding back a sigh David simply offered Red a reassuring nod and took to the sky. 

The rest of the journey was completed with the moons still high in the sky. The moonlight illuminated the forest in front of the...

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The original was posted on /r/hfy by /u/DiscombobulatedPay51 on 2024-11-02 05:47:10+00:00.

Previous

The air was warm, almost suffocating, especially with the smell. The cage hadn't been cleaned since the creature moved in, so a day’s worth of excrement had piled in the corner opposite where it slept. On top of that, the creature itself had a putrid scent caked into its skin. 

The thing was still in the corner eyes wide, but its breath had slowed considerably. Sthalsh took the blanket in his right arms and tossed it over to the shivering thing. It looked at the blanket and then at Sthalsh. It was clear to him that the creature was not going to trust him as easily as last time. It had taken the food because it was desperate, this was different.

Watching the alien closely, Sthalsh sat down slowly and steadily. The creature sniffled and pulled its knees in tighter. Sthalsh’s ears pulsed pink and he wished he brought his journal to record what it was doing. He made a mental note of the sniff and wondered if it meant the same to its species as his own.

“That blanket is for you,” Sthalsh said with a slight trill. “I’m sure you don’t know what I’m saying but-” he paused. The creature's expression had darkened. Its brows were furrowed deep, muscles tense. Sthalsh swallowed hard and held up his four hands. “I’m not here to harm you.” He spoke quietly to come off as non-threatening and also because his mouth had dried up suddenly. “You don’t have to fear me. I want to help.” He motioned to the blanket with his lower right hand. “It’s for you.”

Its eyes softened. The face was extremely expressive, especially in the eyes. It looked away from Sthalsh and lurched forward just enough to grasp the blanket. The creature held that position for a couple of tics before moving back to its spot in the dark corner. It quickly and easily wrapped the blanket around itself.

They stayed like that for a while. Staring back at each other stiffly. Snuggled in the blanket, the creature looked much less intimidating and more… cute. Still, it was tense holding its muscles tight, not letting itself rest. It looked as tho it was ready to pounce at any moment. This only piqued Sthalsh’s interest in the thing.

“I can’t understand you,” Sthalsh said shaking his head. 

The creature held its gaze on Sthalsh with a creased brow.

 “You look like an animal and you act like one, for the most part, but there’s something about you- something I'm missing. I’ve never come across a thing like you in all my passes.” He trilled, “I suppose that makes sense you being an alien. I can tell you’ve been to the afterlife and back. I don’t blame you for being weary of us.”

The creature had relaxed its muscles slightly. The shivering had stopped and it was replaced with a steady rocking from side to side in a rhythmic pattern. 

“My name is Sthalsh and I think we are going to call you Creature, if that's okay with you. That other guy was Blat, and he’s nice too.” He furrowed his eyebrows slightly. “I’m really hoping we can make you as comfortable as possible moving forward.” He looked away from Creature, “Although tomorrow is going to be a nightmare.” He tugged on his ears with his upper arms and noticed they were a slightly dark beige. Not too surprising given the circumstances but he assumed they'd be darker.

Creature was still watching him but its features were relaxed almost curious. It opened its maw wide suddenly. Now seeing it up close it was obviously an involuntary movement, whatever it was. It closed its eyes and exhaled air through its nose. Its whole body relaxed with that exhale sinking into the wall and the blanket. 

Sthalsh’s ears were now a steady pink flowing with excitement. The alien oozed expression in everything it did. Every small movement seemed to mean something, and seeing it up close was so much more intriguing than from behind the glass. He scooted just a bit closer and laid down on his back head turned to face the alien. Creature opened its eyes sensing the movement but didn’t seem disturbed by it.

A half shron passed by before Creature fell asleep. Its breath became very slow and rhythmic. Its body lay limp curled up in the animal fur blanket. Sthalsh had been fighting sleep long before that point so he found it easy to drift away. 

Blat had taken the skipper that morning for two reasons. First, he knew the writers would be stalking the lab like scavenger birds around a fresh kill and he would never get through the crowd on the scamper. Second, he did not want the writers to report that he took a scamper to work. The skipper was a large electric-powered vehicle much like a car. It has two metal wheels in the back and one in the front. It's entirely hand-controlled from the front center seat and it tops out at around 70mph. In all, you can fit around four adults and two kids in the vehicle. 

Just as he suspected, hundreds of people were gathered waiting for anyone with a few tics to spare. Word had gotten around about the mysterious spacecraft and the creature that came with it. Great. He was sure that everyone knew by now that Sthalsh would be studying the alien and by default himself. After all, the alien crashed several towns over. Once the writers in Pordolin radioed the ones in Warss that an alien was on the way there, it wouldn't have taken long to put the pieces together. Warss was lucky to have Sthalsh, not just for this occasion, but for the dense population of animals in the town’s surrounding forest. However, this event would surely put the sleepy town on the maps for passes to come.

Once he parked it was a mad dash to the door before he could get trampled. Tens of questions were thrown at him at a rapid speed. Some were baffling and others were downright disrespectful. Somehow he managed to jump inside the door without answering a single one. He took a short rest in the entryway before heading down the long hallway.

He unlocked the observatory expecting to find Sthalsh but it was empty. “Sthalsh?” Nothing. He walked up the auditorium looking down each row of seats. On the last row, he found an empty glass and Sthalsh’s journal. There was no sign of his colleague although it was obvious that he was there at some point during the night.

He scanned the room and then noticed. Sthalsh was inside the animal cage with the alien. Blat’s blood ran cold and his ears turned bright red almost instantly. 

Not a second thought was had before he rushed down the steps towards the front of the room. Sthalsh was lying down motionless, he could be injured. The alien had one of those cheap lab blankets. Gods what if the creature hurt Sthalsh to get the blanket? What if Sthalsh had been lying in there injured the whole night?

Blat practically ripped the projectile unit off the wall in his haste. He quickly loaded the weapon with the dart and slid it into the slot. Sthalsh had just begun to wake when he saw Blat aiming the PFU directly at the creature. 

“No! Wait!” He was too late.

Just as Creature woke in a start, the dart plunged into his thigh. It let out a yelp before immediately pulling out the and throwing it to the side. Sthalsh rushed to his side but Creature pushed him away, hard. Blat opened the door and dashed over to Sthalsh who was still trying to comfort a now very groggy Creature.

Sthalsh knelt next to the alien holding its left hand while caressing the right side of its chest. “It's okay. It’s okay, don’t fight it.” Creature winced in pain while grasping its thigh clawing at the place where the sedative was injected.

“Are you okay?” Blat asked Sthalsh. “I’m sorry I saw you in here and I just- I thought maybe-” 

“It’s alright,” Sthalsh glanced behind him at Blat. “I understand how that must have looked.” The creature went limp in his arms. “He's asleep now.” Sthalsh stood up and turned to face Blat. “You’re late.” He said simply.

“I’m so sorry- are you okay? Why were you in here? Did that thing hurt you?”

He held up a hand. “No, no he’s harmless I think.” Sthalsh looked back at Creature. It‘s breathing was steady and uninterrupted. “He was cold so I offered a blanket. We fell asleep, that's all.”

Blat nodded with his hands on hips ears still bright red. “He? Are we calling it a ‘he’ now?”

“I do actually think it might be male.”

Blat looked at the thing lying on the ground motionless. “What else did you figure out?”

Sthalsh didn’t answer. He wasn’t even looking at Blat anymore. It seemed that he was in a whole world of his own lost in thought. “Come with me.” He said. 

Blat locked the door to the cage taking one last look at the alien held captive inside. Sthalsh grabbed his journal and then left the observatory heading to the West wing of the lab.

“When they transported Creature here, they brought the ship he crashed,” Sthalsh spoke to Blat without looking back at him.

“Right, I assumed as much.”

“It was destroyed in the sense that it no longer works, however, the hull is mostly intact. The ship was the first thing I looked at.”

The halls of the lab were dead. No one was around so early in the morning and it made Blat feel uneasy. “Why didn’t you show me yesterday?” 

“Truly, I wasn’t sure what to tell you.”

They opened doors to a large storage room that had been cleared out. In the place of boxes, cages, and extra food, was a very large busted spaceship. It took up the entire room. It was made of a dark metal and looked as though it might glow if it was operational. 

Sthalsh held out an open palm. “Here it is! Feel free to observe and tel...

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The original was posted on /r/hfy by /u/forwritingprompts80 on 2024-11-02 04:08:09+00:00.

Orist, the director of arcane studies at Surrerra, rubbed his eyes as he looked up. He had been trying to figure out what to do and how to report their new findings on dragon fire. It was an amazing breakthrough on dragon fire and exactly how it worked. The main issue was they made this breakthrough because one of the researchers had brought in a fully grown dragon to the lab, which then promptly burnt down 3 buildings. “Someone brought in a black dog and I need to see this dog?”

Torun shifted uneasily from side to side, wishing he could be almost anywhere. Torun was a student helper for the facility management team and did not want the attention of his boss’s boss’s boss’s boss or to deal with the occult. “They have been saying it’s an omen of death. They, uh, the other researchers have said it is leaking death energy.”

Orist elven ears perked up at this, “So an omen of death wandered onto the campus.”

“Uh, no sir. Sam, one of the researchers in the Occult Department brought it in.”

Orist paused while remembering the dragon incident he was still working on. “Okay. Lead me to Sam and the death dog.”

Torun nervously nodded. Earlier, he had been hoping to be almost anywhere else, but next to that dog was not on the list of places he wanted to be.

Torun and Orist stepped into the Occult research lab and they both flinched when they saw what appeared to be a black void with two arms disappearing. A slightly closer look revealed that it was just pitch-black fur with an eerie haze slowly flowing out of it. As they made out its general shape it quickly became this was a dog or closer to a wolf in size with glowing red eyes. It would have all been a lot more disturbing if the dog wasn’t lying on its back with its mouth open and tail wagging as two human researchers rubbed its tummy.

The dog locked eyes with them and for a brief second, they got the feeling that death was leaning over their shoulder. “That’s Sam,” Torun said as he moved so Orist was between him and the dog.

Sam looked up and smiled at Orist, “Director, what brings you here?”

“The omen of death did.”

“Oh, don’t worry. We brought him here. He’s not here for anyone in particular,” Sam said while scratching the tummy of a very relaxed omen of death.

“Yes, we heard that. Our concern is more the risk he brings.”

“He is very well-behaved. Even if he is a bit larger than most dogs,” Sam paused before realizing, “and the death energy is safe. We’ve already tested staying with him for an extended time. They live off death energy, so the haze is more like sweat or exhaled air. It’s harmless in these quantities.”

Orist took a second to realize what had been said, “You tested the haze for an extended time? How long have you had this omen of death?”

Sam avoided eye contact, “Uhh, about 2 weeks, but we’ve been interacting with them for about 3 months now. We were just preparing to deliver our report on it.”

Orist sighed, “We’ll get to that later. I don’t think you are realizing the severity of bringing an omen of death to this university.”

The other researcher spoke for the first time, “Well, uh Director, they don’t actually bring death with them.”

“And who are you?” Orist asked

“Ah, this is Deacon. He was going to help me with some of the more precise measurements, though his main research is on grim reapers”

“Okay, and you are saying these omens of death don’t bring death?”

“No, it’s actually a misconception we have been doing our best to dispel. We have seen them show up and leave without anything dying. We even managed to create an experiment where the death was unpredictable, and they showed up equally if the death happened or it didn’t happen. We think they have a way to sense the possibility of death, but we haven’t been able to figure out how they do it. We are hoping this research could help give advanced warnings.” Deacon babbled as Sam nodded in agreement.

“This is still quite concerning. Would you invite a grim reaper to the school?

Sam’s eyes widened as his head snapped over to look at Deacon. Deacon immediately looked away from both of them.

“You didn’t…” Orist started but was cut short by a chill. It was the kind of chill that permeated through your whole being and no amount of warmth would ever get rid of it. Before he had felt like death was looking over his shoulder, but that was child’s play compared to this. This did not have to lean over your shoulder as you would come to it. All things came to it in the end, and it was not something you wanted to be close to. He swallowed deeply and didn’t dare to even look in its direction while Torun tried to slip even further behind Orist.

“Ah, v̴̫̮͖̺̥̜̯̹̣̘̊ͣ͌̒̈́̌̈ͫ́ͭ̉̋ͥ͗ͮ̉̚͘V̵̶̴̧̳͙̣͉̞͙͂͐̿̿ͦ̓͑̕̚͝z̶̧̳͔͍͙̿͑̈́̋ͩͨ̇̄͟͟x̶̥̱͍̜̤͍̜̰͔̦͕̮̰̯̼̼͓̑̽̍̏ͭ̓͛ͩ̿ͣ͂̂̂̉͋͐͜ͅͅz̥̏͆ͣͨ̏ś̵̴̢̰̜̾͌̏̾ͪ͊̈́͆̓ͧ̚͟͡i̵̯͈ͧͬͣ̈́ͨ̂̓͘͝͝e̶̼̝̬̜ͫͤ͋̉̓͒ͯͧͪ̊, you made it here,” Deacon said casually while making noises they didn’t even know vocal cords could. The being in the corner replied, but listening to its sounds was horrifying enough, much less trying to comprehend them.

“Yes, it is a v̴̫̮͖̺̥̜̯̹̣̘̊ͣ͌̒̈́̌̈ͫ́ͭ̉̋ͥ͗ͮ̉̚͘V̵̶̴̧̳͙̣͉̞͙͂͐̿̿ͦ̓͑̕̚͝z̶̧̳͔͍͙̿͑̈́̋ͩͨ̇̄͟͟z̥̏͆ͣͨ̏ś̵̴̢̰̜̾͌̏̾ͪ͊̈́͆̓ͧ̚͟͡i̵̯͈ͧͬͣ̈́ͨ̂̓͘͝͝e̶̼̝̬̜ͫͤ͋̉̓͒ͯͧͪ̊. I didn’t know you were familiar with them, but I guess you must cross path pretty often.” The dog had sat up and was now doing its best to look proper and majestic.

The figure moved toward the dog and extended one of its bony hands toward the ground. A dense black fog flowed from its hand and formed into a sphere.

“Is that pure and condensed death energy?” Sam said as he reached towards it. Deacon tried to stop him, but it was too late. As soon as his fingers got close the skin and flesh aged, decayed, and then dissolved away leaving only bones. Sam held up his three new bony fingers and slowly wiggled them, studying their every movement.

“I can fix that,” Deacon said as he moved closer and started chanting. “Wait! Let’s do it outside so we don’t accidentally hit these 2 with holy light.” Sam said.

“Ah, good call,” Deacon said as they both slipped outside the lab. Inside the lab, Orist and Torun just stood awkwardly. The grim reaper stood there coldly, while the dog frantically wagged his tail as he munched on the sphere that had just taken three of Sam’s fingers.

“May I leave, sir?” Torun whimpered out, having not looked up from the ground since the grim reaper appeared in the room.

Orist looked at him with sympathy, “You can wait in the hall. I’ll need to talk to you after this.” Torun just nodded and slipped out the door into the hallways.

As Torun slipped out of the door, Deacon and Sam strode back in. “All healed up,” Sam said as showed off his hand with all the fingers now properly covered in skin and flesh.

“From now on, you should report to us before you bring in anything. Some of these beings are highly influential on the natural world,” Orist said as he looked at the grim reaper and gave him a polite bow. “We want to be able to properly prepare to avoid any danger AND,” Orist cut them off before they could argue the beings weren’t dangerous, “avoid any unnecessary panic.”

Deacon and Sam looked at each other before turning back to Orist, “So we can continue our research?”

“Yes, and be sure to prepare those reports,” Orist said as he left the room. He stepped into the hall and took a few deep breaths as the warmth crept back in. After a moment, he turned to Torun, “They may bring some more troublesome beings, but we aren’t expecting you to take care of them. Just make sure everyone else in the area is informed. If necessary, we will get a specialist to come help with the work.”

“So there will be more of…those?” Torun asked.

“Unfortunately, yes.”

“Why do you let them do this stuff?” Torun asked before adding on, “I don’t mean Sam and Deacon, but humans in particular. I’ve heard of the dragon incident and a few rumors of events that almost went as bad.”

“The humans might be stupid,” Orist began before correcting himself, “No, not stupid. Many of them can be quite brilliant, but stupidly curious. Just incredibly stupidly curious.” Orist paused as he remembered a great deal of headaches they had brought about. “But while they are so very stupidly curious, they make incredible breakthroughs. They are open-minded and do not want to cause harm. Their curiosity just blinds their judgment. I think the research of Sam and Deacon could help many and we need to make sure it doesn’t cause harm to many in the meantime.”

This is an automated archive made by the Lemmit Bot.

The original was posted on /r/hfy by /u/LukeWasNotHere on 2024-11-02 04:04:43+00:00.

I must say trying to raid a castle, while half conscious, to rescue your ‘wife’ will definitely be something I’ll mention at dinner parties. Though I would like to warn you now, this story is being written just a few hours (I think it's only been a hours) after the events that took place.

I'm so tired I am writing this with my eyes mostly closed. However, I know that when I do fall asleep I will remember absolutely nothing. So here is a story essentially told through a man’s drunken stupor. There will be far more spelling and grammatical mistakes, I’m sorry but unfortunately not in the right mind to fix them. 

“Wake up, Theseus!” My friend yelled directly into my ear, I was so tired it only barely woke me up, it was mostly the spit. I think some hit my brain. 

“What happened? Who died?” I asked and barely opened my eyes. I tried to flail around but couldn’t move my arms, or anything else. I saw the glimpse of my band of a dozen scoundrels, hoodlums, ex special forces, martial artists, all my closest friends, and the type of people that caused children to scream when they walked by. 

“Nobody, dear God man. That tranquilizer dart you got shot with really messed you up.” She said.  

“Oh, yeah, forgot about that.” I giggled softly and started to go back to sleep. 

“Get up! C’mon you’re the brains, how do we rescue Scout?” She shook me.

“Oh Jesus Hillbilly Christ, things must be going bad if I’m the brains.” I opened one eye at her. She did not have the patience to come up with a reply that wasn’t an insult. “Okay what are we dealing with?” I yawned.  She grabbed the back of my neck and we both peeked over a wall. A few dozen people with guns stood guard in front of a giant castle gate. 

“We could just leave Scout.” I said.

“Hell no, she’s just started wrestling and she’s not terrible, so she has to live. Also, I got a hundred Coin saying that you two will eventually really get married one day, and I’m not letting either of you die until I get paid. So what is the plan?” She shook me. 

“First of all, you’re gonna lose that bet. Second, we are going to have to light the big guy on fire.” I pointed to our resident big guy, who was a nine and a half foot (2.89 meter) tall Grunta. Big, green, and built even more like an orc than they normally are. Like a grizzly bear ate the world's third strongest man. 

“What?” He asked. 

After a bit of planning, a big cloak, a stolen wheelbarrow, burny liquid stuff, and the promise of lots of free drinks in return we were soon wheeling up to the front of the castle gate. “I am death, chaos in flesh, a mere servant of my Human master. We leave no survivors.” My tall orc friend bellowed. As the rest of my crew of miscreants surrounded him and walked menacingly to the shaking guards. I hoped they would have snapped their fingers like villains in a musical, but they didn’t. 

“Now?” My other friend asked. 

“Not yet.” I said on their back and wiggled a single finger, behind the wheelbarrow. 

“Run before us! You shall all burn in all the Hells” My friendly Orc friend's deep voice carried through the air like thunder that was just a bit too close to your house. 

“Now.” I said, the sound of a lighter clicked, the big green guy was now: the big green guy on fire. Radical. I heard gasps and screams but more importantly no gunshots as the guards bravely ran away. I felt the pleasant toasty heat of the fire and wanted marshmallows. Soon there was only one guard left. 

I looked up at my six foot tall Caelum friend, the lady who was yelling at me in the beginning, and noticed how easily she was dragging me along with one hand. “You know, I’ve always appreciated muscular women.” I said to her. She sighed, then laughed.

“Boy, those must be really strong tranquilizer darts.” She patted my head, my friends and I stood in front of the lone guard. He threw the gate key before I could even tell the big guy to tear his arms off. Smart fella. I heard the sounds of keys jingling as I rested my head on my friend's buff shoulder and threw my arm around her waist. Soon the gate unlocked. 

“Now what?” She asked.

“Oh, five more minutes.” I snuggled into her arms more.

“No. We’re rescuing Scout, our friend. We all even went to your fake wedding.” My tired friend finally lost her patience and any attempt to make me look composed or competent. She picked me up like a sack of potatoes and got me into a bridal carry. 

“Thank you.” I said and pulled out my peacemaker. 

She looked at my gun in horror, instead of the usual amusement. “Woah, do you really think it’s safe to shoot your gun? I know they’re just stun rounds but you just woke-”  

Before she could finish a guard came rushing into the hallway, I fanned the hammer and shot him without needing to aim. He got hit by the taser round and started to forcefully break dance on the ground while he swore in pain. 

“Less talking my mighty steed, we must find my stupid wife. Everyone split up, don’t get shot.” I pointed with my gun like it was a sword and I was a knight in rusty armor.

“Isn’t that what Human’s call horses?” She asked me, as she ran like a horse. 

“No.” I replied and snuggled up to her. She ran around the maze that was the poor excuse for a castle. Not enough guys with swords, just four and a half more swords and it would have been good. She ran, guards turned blind corners, they were met with my taser rounds, I drooled on her shoulders a few times, reloaded my gun much more, and we finally reached a dead end. 

More guards started to file into the hallway. I fired into the crowd as she dove for cover behind an old suit of armor. Thankfully, it wasn’t that old. Rounds ricocheted off the armor and walls. In between the bursts of gunfire I heard the guards slowly close in on us.

“What do we do? We’re pinned down!” She yelled over the shots. 

“I don’t know.” I shrugged. “Oh, hey, would you look at that? I got this.” I could finally feel my legs. I grabbed a sword off the knight to use as a cane. A revolver in one hand and a sword in the other, talk about a good day. 

“Parlay!” I yelled behind cover. The shooting stopped for some reason. I walked out of my cover, with a look of unfounded confidence so strong everyone mistook it for competence. “All six of you, do you really think you’d be able to beat me?”

They looked at each other in confusion and nodded. I shot all six of them when they were distracted. “Well, for future reference don’t let me talk- woah~” I stumbled and was caught by my friend. “So much for being able to feel my legs.” I hung onto her again. We looked back at the dead end. She picked me up in the bridal carry again. 

Where a giant door stood, and if it had eyes I’m sure it would have stared at us in the disappointed way a Mother does after you’ve lost a fight. “Alright, I’m sure you can pick that lock.” My friend said. 

“Yeah, but I can’t feel my fingers too, so…” I trailed off and almost went back to dreamland. 

“Hey!” She yelled into my ear again. We both heard giant footsteps behind us, she whipped us around, my gun pointed at whoever it was. It was our friend that we just set on fire. 

“Hey bro.” I lowered my gun.

“Door?” He pointed. We both nodded, he walked over, smacked it, the door made a horrible grunt, the hinges flew off, and it fell to the ground like a log in the woods. 

“Took you long enough.” Scout said and jingled her handcuffs. Scout stopped for a second and laughed at me being carried. 

“Hello my soon to be ex-wife.” I replied. 

I don’t remember much after that, just glimpses, mostly lots of running, a food cart, possibly another sword fight, at least two felonies, a famous painting, and definitely not in that order. I’m gonna go to sleep now, and I’m probably going to be arrested in the morning. 

Author’s Note: I’m almost as sleepy as Theseus. Goodnight.

Vaguely important second note: This isn’t a series, though it could be debated. It’s an idiotic writing challenge I made up one night and keep almost failing. Writing a one shot everyday for thirty days. I write these like an episodic T.V. show, the two main characters are the same, sometimes there are two part episodes but it’s meant to be enjoyed on its own. The fact it can be read in order is a bonus afterthought. Context is overrated anyways.

Thanks for reading. :}

27/30 Days

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This is an automated archive made by the Lemmit Bot.

The original was posted on /r/hfy by /u/AffectionateArm4268 on 2024-11-02 03:01:26+00:00.

It wasn’t surprising that the Galactic Council decided to eliminate at least the main species on Earth.

 When they had discovered Earth, their probe’s deep planetary scans showed it had a wealth of minerals that the Galactic Council’s forces needed. At any other time, the Galactic Council, a multi-species assembly, would have had no qualms about bombarding the planet’s surface to wipe out at least the main species on Earth – humanity – as well as any other species, plant and animal, as collateral damage. At this time, however, the Galactic Council had just barely won a war against a hive mind horde that had wiped out eighty percent of the Council’s member species, so it would take them a long time – at least three of Earth’s centuries – to fully rebuild their armed forces and empire.

 Even when the war had been at its height, the Galactic Council had sent out unmanned probes to various planets to find substances, such as minerals and chemicals, that the Galactic Council needed. As it was, one of these probes had passed by Earth, its presence invisible to the humans, and its deep planetary scans had detected the presence of such needed minerals, like neodymium and praseodymium, were present in economically viable quantities.

 Because an out-and-out elimination strike was ruled out, the Galactic Council had decided to use alternative methods. In preparation for this, they decided to find out all they could about the many species on Earth, particularly the humans; and this was why they had deployed a forward research station in the human solar system. They chose to deploy the research station in orbit around Jupiter, the system’s sun a bright star from that distance, and from there they could conduct more detailed research on Earth. Such research might have included observing the local flora and fauna, but it also involved monitoring any electromagnetic signals coming from that planet.

 Commander Var’kin, a crustacean-like alien whose race was known for its ruthless efficiency as well as for its penchant for decoding signals, was glad when the forward research station finally came online. He looked around him, at his team members, as he readied for work. He had hand-picked his team, and while his team members came from different races, they all had one commonality: they were the best in their respective fields when it came to electronic signals intelligence.

 “All right, everyone,” Commander Var’kin said. “As you know, this station will start conducting experiments within the next [thirty to forty Earth days], so until then, we’re the only ones who’ll be monitoring the planet that the main species call ‘Dirt.’ This means we’ll have full run of this station’s resources until they arrive, so we should make the most of it.” He gave his species’ version of a human grin as everyone acknowledged his words, after which he clacked his pincers. “Okay, everyone, let’s get to work. Begin analysis of Earth’s transmissions.”

 Within [minutes], a wealth of electromagnetic transmissions came in, all from Earth. These transmissions were both radio and visual in nature, so many that these would have been so thoroughly confusing and chaotic in nature had these been analyzed individually; but the Galactic Council used AI to compress these into what the AI was programmed to create representative samples, based on the probability codes imbedded in the AI.

 “We have an initial sample, sir,” one of the team members called out.

 “That was fast,” Commander Var’kin remarked.

 “Yes, sir.”

 “Good work.  Put it on the main screen.”

 For a moment, the main screen appeared black, but an initial image then appeared, one of a human with an odd hair style. This wasn’t the first time the aliens had seen a human, as they had all reviewed as much of the information their probe to Earth had gathered, so they were able to identify the somewhat strange movements the human male were performing as part of a sort of dance.

 One of Commander Var’kin’s secondary legs tapped on his console absently. “Is this visual only?” he asked. “It appears that there is likely some audio attached to it.”

 “I think there is, sir,” another team member replied. “Sorry, sir, we’re getting a lot of emissions. Let me process it further, sir, just a moment.”

 Commander Var’kin clacked his claws in understanding, even as the main screen went blank; such things were known to happen, and Commander Var’kin, himself, had experienced such in the past.

 It was a few more [minutes] before the team member then spoke up: “We have audio to the visual, sir, it’s now synchronized. Playing.”

 Commander Var’kin then looked at the main screen, and when the image showed, the synchronized audio began playing. The probe that had done the initial investigation had been thorough, as it had stayed on station, undetected, for [two and a half Earth years], so it had also gathered information on the main languages of the humans; and this was why the AI was able to translate what the audio belted out.

 Never gonna give you up, never gonna let you down. . . .

 The tune was actually catchy, and Commander Var’kin found himself tapping his console absently in time with the beat. “Well, that was an experience,” Commander Var’kin said once the recording was done.

 “Sir, I have another sample ready,” another member of the team said.

 “Good,” Commander Var’kin said. “Show it.” And he then frowned as he saw what came up.

 Never gonna give you up, never gonna let you down. . . .

 “Are all the samples like this?” Commander Var’kin asked, even before the thing ended.

 “They shouldn’t be, sir,” another team member said, confused.

 “Is there any way to filter it out?”

 “We’ll try, sir.”

 After [71 Earth hours], Commander Var’kin felt his sanity hanging by a thin thread. They had gotten some information, sure, from sources on Earth, such as their so-called “news,” but they had also seen the strange audio-video signal a total of a three hundred twenty-three times, with the signal sometimes interrupting the other signals they had been trying to read. Commander Var’kin had, by then, called in some of the station’s programmers in an attempt to get the AI program to screen out the “Rikk Ash-lee” signal, but they reported that, for whatever reason, doing so might cause the AI to screen out most of the signals that they needed to analyze, so Commander Var’kin had reluctantly agreed to let the AI run as it was.

 It was in the middle of the three hundred twenty-fourth time that the damned signal played on the screen that Commander Var’kin looked around at his teammates. Those that needed to sleep had rested, but the body language of those who had just reported in even after a good rest period showed that they were reluctant to go on duty. Commander Var’kin himself wasn’t feeling too good, and he wished his species couldn’t stay up for [83 Earth hours] at a time, as he had been on station since the start.

 “By the Council,” Commander Var’kin grumbled as the three hundred twenty-fourth time the signal ended, “those humans deserve to be wiped out.” And when, a [few minutes] later, the signal played for the three hundred twenty-fifth time, even as he felt his sanity begin slipping for the final time, Commander Var’kin hoped desperately that the incoming experimental researchers would find a way to eliminate the damned humans.

This is an automated archive made by the Lemmit Bot.

The original was posted on /r/hfy by /u/KyleKKent on 2024-11-01 23:41:48+00:00.

First

(I swear the damn word count is shrinking whenever I blink.)

Weight of Dynasty

“A sudden change?”

“Princess Tryti’Margat has bought last second tickets and is bringing a guest. A noble guest from the Homeworld.”

“Oh...” Arden’Karm says before thinking and then nodding. “Duke Hart’Ghuran. He came here with Morg’Arqun who grew The Lush Forest here on Soben’Ryd.”

“... Those forest memories are getting cooler and cooler. What else? What’s The Duke like?”

“Very serious, very dedicated and very intense. Compared to him the other nobles are just playing dumb games all the time and he’s trying to win.” Arden’Karm says. “I don’t think a concert is going to be to his liking. Although I can probably ask Morg’Arqun to ask him, he’s still connected to The Lush Forest.”

“Right... so...”

“We need a new song.”

“I got this!” Shar’Uran says rushing over and passing Arden’Karm a data-pad. “Same as before, translate it to Ancient Cindertongue and let it out low and slow.”

“She placed herself in a shallow grave. Her dresses like a body bag every day. No matter how she tries she cannot run away. And she must keep her regrets at bay every day.” He reads out as he slowly translates it then writes it down in the proper Ancient Cindertongue. Or rather tries to after he messes with the settings to activate the right characters for it.

“It makes it sound much more ominous.”

“Ancient Cinder makes a lot more use of Kah and Sah sounds.” Arden’Karm says as he looks at his only lyrics. Again, the refrain just to be repeated a few times in a slow and deep tone. “Are you sure people like this?”

“They love it. You’re going to be one of the most popular men on Soben’Ryd in no time.”

“... Thank the ancestors I can woodwalk away. And potentially to other worlds too...”

“Ohh! Think we could go there? I’ve always wondered what Serbow is like!”

“... Maybe? I’ve never woodwalked that far. I’ve not been a sorcerer for long.”

“Well considering that most of them don’t do much for like, ten years before revealing themselves I’d say you’re way more active than most.”

Arden’Karm huffs in amusement.

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“You know this is going to be a complete mess right? None of us even understand the language they’re going to be singing in.” Observer Wu asks.

“Well, I assume that they’re going to have some idea of rhythm and at least somewhat well trained voices, so that will be the enjoyable part. Besides, it doesn’t get more alien than songs about alien things in an alien language and has nothing to do at all with humanity.” Harold replies in English. “You’re here to observe, so let us observe how Apuk celebrate when they think no human is watching.”

The older man tilts his head and surrenders the point.

“So what kind of music do you think this is going to be like?” Javra asks.

“Apparently this group does a mix of genres and will shift who’s leading the song when they change them. They have bouncy pop music, classical, techno and more.”

“And what does that mean?”

“Pop music is whatever is popular in the here and now, classical is what was popular a long time ago. Techno uses a lot of synthesized machine sounds. Which has been popular in the past, is popular now and likely to be popular later.”

“... So all of it can be a bunch of computer beeps and shrieks?” Javra asks in a confused tone.

“It can be, it’s not guaranteed to be, but it can be.” Harold says. “But I think the fact they have a band member dedicated to Techno means they’re holding off the electronic stuff in it’s own category whether it’s popular, classical or otherwise. Probably.”

“Probably?”

“Who knows right? We won’t until we get there.”

“Am I the only one that actually looked up what the band sounds like?” Dumiah asks in amusement. Only one of Observer Wu’s bodyguards raises their hand.

“By the goddess...”

“I don’t think my grandmother deals with this kind of thing.” Giria teases.

“Not that one.”

“What does Lady Yserizen have to do with this?” Giria asks.

“Keep going, you’ll run into an immortal snake that’s big into music eventually.”

“Twelve of them last I heard. The Muss Ayss.” Giria says and Harold pauses before sharing a look with Observer Wu. “What’s that about?”

“Did they used to be nine in number for a long time?” Observer Wu asks.

“Yes. Why are you asking?”

“The Muses?” Harold asks.

“Maybe...” Observer Wu contemplates.

“The who?”

“In an old, but not the oldest civilization there were nine goddesses of art, poetry and music called The Muses. The society fell out of prominence two thousand years ago roughly. Very roughly.”

“... It’s moments like this that things get uncanny again. Null needs to be studied more because clearly your homeworld isn’t anywhere near as isolated as it should be in that screaming pit of death.” Umah says and Harold nods.

“Not as much as you’d think. Null IS Axiom, just too dense to be used and actively agitating the rest of the nearby Axiom to uselessness as it decompresses.”

“There is more to it than that though. We are able to build Axiom Tech on Earth and while it doesn’t fully power up it’s not completely non-functional. But if we try to get it off world it spontaneously detonates as it passes the Ozone Layer. Something we were even warned about. But for some reason we could build the components in an inert state outside of our world and they worked just fine when they were introduced to the wider galaxy.”

“Unfortunately the warning did not come with an explanation.”

“Of course not. It’s a poorly understood study that requires the brightest minds to even begin to understand. Null is just... weird. And dangerous, very dangerous.” Giria says.

“Hmm... dangerous.” Harold says as he finds that he’s been holding onto the handle of his sword. But he doesn’t know why.

“Something up?”

“I think so. But I can’t tell where it is or what it is.”

“You think there’s danger?” Observer Wu asks.

“Some part of me does, but which part I cannot say.” Harold says and Observer Wu nods.

“... You’re the one with the supposedly divinely granted battle instinct. Weapons ready guards. I want to see if this is more than just refined paranoia.” Observer Wu orders and his guard begin reaching into their jackets to check a few things and then nod.

“Well then, this might be interesting.”

•×•×•×•×•×•×•×•×•×•×•×•×•×•×•×•×•×•×•×•×•×•×•×•×•×•×•×•×•×•×•×•×•×•×•

“Thank you.” Hart’Ghuran says as the door is opened for him. Graciousness never hurts. He takes a small device and places it on the edge of the box. It starts broadcasting. Unlike the live broadcasting it will give a unique view, something that the Yals children had insisted on. It wasn’t that they didn’t like the live broadcast. It’s that they thought that a ‘bootleg’ version of it would be better. It was silly and stupid, but there it was.

“And what is that about?” A voice asks from behind him and he turns to see that for some reason Tryti’Margat had been standing in the shadows. Thankfully she’s more tasteful than most and has gone for high quality custom made clothing rather than ostentatious to the point of sheer madness.

“I’ve hired on some younger employees to be courtiers to my children. The little troublemakers prefer ‘criminal’ recordings over legal ones.”

“But this concert is being freely broadcasted.” She says and he shrugs. “Are you sure if children that prefer to be criminals are best for your children.”

“That behaviour can be taught out of them. And if not, then they could make good spies and saboteurs to fulfill that urge.” Hart’Ghuran says as he sits.

“So you see potential in them?”

“It’s more what I don’t see, I do not see the hands of my political rivals upon them. Which is fertile enough ground for me to grow what I need from them.”

“I see... It’s remarkable that you’ve risen to the occasion in the way you have.”

“Oh?”

“Lost alone, left behind by a slaughtered family with only the ruins of what was, the few servants and a couple of marriages made in a political balance that no longer exists. By all rights, you should have been swallowed up and lost by now. Instead you took on all the strength of your ancestors and showed them how and why the Ghuran became nobles.”

“Thank you, although why you’re not looking closer to home for some possible connections is a bit of a mystery.”

“Oh don’t play ignorant. Although I do appreciate the attempt to play it cute. You’re exotic, but from the old blood. Strong and almost criminally under-married. I mean really, only three wives at your age?”

“Hmm... I was a bit in the busy stage of keeping things together. To be fair I still am. My trip here is the closest I’ve had to a vacation in quite some time.” Hart’Ghuran says before some movement on the stage below lets them both know that the show is about to begin.

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“Hello beautiful people! How are we feeling tonight!?” Urani Flyz asks the crowd and they roar in response. She is resplendent in a skirt hanging off her hips but flaring out to twirl with each step and movement around the knees. Her stomach exposing jacket gives her a pair of tiny wings on the back and it’s dark colours topped with the image of a bat hanging off her left horn and a hat balanced on the right completes the image. “We have some of our best ready for you and even more, we’re trying something new wi...

Content cut off. Read original on https://old.reddit.com/r/HFY/comments/1ghjato/oocs_into_a_wider_galaxy_part_152/

This is an automated archive made by the Lemmit Bot.

The original was posted on /r/hfy by /u/Anonymous_D-boi on 2024-11-01 22:34:34+00:00.

“Hold tight gentlemen, it’s gonna be one hell of a ride!”

A wave of unease and fuzziness spilled over me, a common and much maligned side effect of faster-than-light jumps. As the aerospace assault ship I was aboard came into orbit around our “dream holiday destination,” as Platoon Sergeant Reyes put in a briefing the day before, I once again took in my immediate surroundings. Me, seven other dismounts in two rows, seated across each other, plus a three person crew crammed in an armored personnel carrier that was itself stuck to the bottom of a landing craft designed to fly as fast as possible to the surface of a planet, drop off the merry men in a tin can and then haul ass back to orbit. At least that’s the theory. We’ve all seen the casualty rates.

I was the second man on the left, counting from the rear hatch. To my left was Johann, our platoon’s corpsman, eyeing all of us for signs of motion sickness. Sitting across me was Nigel, the section’s machine gunner, grasping the 15 kilo beast of a gun in his giant hands. To my right, right next to the hatch, was Sergeant Castelli, our battle-hardened section leader, who was monitoring the overall situation on a screen on the inside of the hatch: “30 seconds to launch!”

The landing craft's engines started to whirr as the pilot went through the preflight procedures. At 15 seconds, the atmosphere in the ship’s space dock was vented, and the blast doors to the outside void were opened. Our mothership's jump drives have also started spooling up by now, eager to get out of range of orbital defenses. Our landing craft would simply land on the ship delivering the second wave after it unloaded its cargo of fighting men.

At 30 seconds, many clamps went undone and a battalion of drop troopers came loose, making their way to the planet below. At drop school, they taught us that it takes a modern aerospace defense network about 60 seconds from us leaving our assault ship and them picking us up on sensors to missiles exploding around us. Deep reconnaissance groups, special forces and long range orbital strikes should have taken out at least a part of the network, but you can never really rely on “should have”. I started counting; one, two, three…

After counting to fifty-eight, just when we started to enter the atmosphere above our landing area, I felt a sudden jerk in addition to the shakes of atmospheric entry as the pilot started maneuvering the landing craft and popping chaff and flares in a hope to evade incoming missiles. By now, the air was thick enough to hear explosions outside. We all hoped that it was the missiles getting caught on decoys, and not our friends. Sergeant Castelli overcame the deafening noises using his radio: “1 minute to landing!”

I looked over the Sergeants shoulder at the computer screen. There were reports of landing craft closer to the ground taking fire from anti-aircraft guns. This was confirmed as a stray round, way beyond effective range, left a large inward facing dent in the floor of the personnel carrier. Not much longer, I said to myself.

Imagine a car suddenly hitting a concrete wall. That's how it feels to hit the dirt in the APC after being cut loose from the landing craft. Even before the driver managed to start the engine, sporadic small arms fire started to pepper the vehicle’s armor, with the gunner responding in kind with the turreted heavy machine gun a moment after. After the company, or what was left of it, landed, we proceeded to our objective, a group of silos hosting anti-voidship missiles, a major threat to any friendly vessels in orbit, however so well protected that a ground assault was needed to destroy them, short of using nukes. We landed about thirty kilometers from the silos, a bit closer than usual, but speed was of the essence. It just so happened that we landed about 1200 meters away from and in sight of a mobile AAA battery protecting the silos.

Our platoon was ordered to assault the battery. The commanding officer decided to ride in and overwhelm the relatively poorly armed soldiers manning it. The climate where we landed was dry, but the ground was solid. That meant a good ride, or so we thought. My vehicle was in the lead, and we were just hammered with rifle and machine gun fire. The gunner was shooting back of course, but it was unrelenting. We got to about 300 meters of the battery when we all heard an incredibly loud bang and the vehicle suddenly stopped. We could all hear the vehicle commander screaming over the intercom: “DISMOUNT!”

Sergeant Castelli and the man across from him opened the rear hatch. With the skill that only a thousand repetitions can give you, they went through the hatch and fanned out to the left and right of the vehicle, respectively. My left foot went up. As it was passing through the hatch, I was thinking of why I enlisted. I wanted to be a soldier, a warrior. I wanted to put on armor and slay dragons.

As my left foot took its first step on an alien world and the safety of the APC’s armor gave way to the cold morning air, those thoughts left my mind and I focused on the moment. It was machines that brought me to this world and that protected me from a bullet's bite, but it was now my turn to fight.

This is an automated archive made by the Lemmit Bot.

The original was posted on /r/hfy by /u/KamchatkasRevenge on 2024-11-01 22:24:59+00:00.

The next meeting was a big one.

The entire Bridger family is on hand, either wearing uniforms or nice dress clothing where appropriate, with the six daughters who could do more than crawl sitting to the side. They'd arranged something akin to stadium seating to ensure everyone could see and be seen.

It was critical that this go off well, because Jerry knew what would be happening. Observer Wu would be more or less asking the same questions to see if everyone's story lined up, and to take advantage of the mixed backgrounds of the Bridger girls to get different angles on information that he'd already gotten from Jerry, Undaunted intelligence or even just pulled up on the galactic info net.

Jerry takes his seat next to Sylindra down in front, with Syl to his left and Aquilar to his right, as the other 'heads' of the household.

"Good day ladies, and thank you for taking the time to speak with me. As you no doubt know, I am Observer Wu. I have been sent by the governments of Earth to see exactly what has happened since Humans entered the wider galaxy. I will be recording this discussion for future reference."

Syl offers Observer Wu a dignified bow of her head, looking as regal as any queen or empress greeting a petitioner... and on this ship, she might as well have been.

"We greet you Observer, and hope you find your time aboard our vessel instructive. Humanity has certainly had an interesting impact on the galaxy already and our individual interactions with Humans as a species has been... intense, to say the least."

Wu nods. "Moving right along then, you are Madame Sylindra Bridger yes?"

"That's correct, Director of Operations for this ship, and the Chief Executive Officer for the Bridger Conglomerate, which grew out of my high end boutique cloning service back on Centris."

“Very good. Can you tell me a bit about your services as a commercial cloning entity?”

“Of course. We mostly provide the same services I did back on Centris, but at a much larger scale and with a lock galaxy wide on Earth origin goods. We also clone a large number of live animals, mostly for the pet trade for Humans, and Human adjacent families, but there’s a large cat fancier’s club that’s established itself on the Yauya homeworld just for example.”

“...I see. Ah. Yes, Admiral Bridger mentioned something called a Hyper Malinois. Can you explain this creature to me?”

Syl smiles serenely. “Of course. We can modify animals from baseline DNA. The Hyper Malinois is a larger, faster, stronger and more intelligent Belgian Malinois, and it has been evolutionarily advanced so it can start accessing axiom instinctively using advanced computer simulations. We’ve also done a Doberman for Marines, and the Dire Wolf.”

Wu blinks for a moment, clearly latching on to that last phrase. “So you are responsible for those massive wolves they’ve been introducing into the Dark Forest on Serbow?”

Wichen chuckles. “Ha. Forest nothing, they’re going into individual homes as puppies too!”

“Nyahahah! The shock on human’s face is most entertaining to Nezbet. Come dear Observer, surely a sweet little puppy is not so surprising to you.”

Nezbet’s mirthful grin is the kind of smug amusement that could in fact start a bar fight in the right circumstances, but the Observer was determinedly ignoring her.

Syl gestures for quiet before continuing. “The dire wolves are a ‘custom’ project and there’s a few strains. The ones on the Apuk homeworld are fire resistant for example. The prime strain is the best and is exclusive to our household for pets and war hounds. They were made on a request from some of our soldiers. They’ve also asked for something called a Warg eventually which should be large enough for a grown woman in armor to ride but it’s proved to be quite a complicated project…”

Wu’s eyes bulge slightly for a moment as he deals with what had to be to him, the raw absurdity of that last statement.

“That. You can just. Is it not complicated? To just make new animals?”

“Extremely, but my staff are very good at their jobs. Like many things in the galaxy, Observer, you’ll find a lot of things aren’t done mostly because people don’t see the point in doing so, not because it can’t be done.”

"I see. Moving along, can you tell me what happened after your initial encounter with a Human?"

Syl chuckles into her hand politely.

"In some ways that initial encounter has never ended, Observer. The first Human I ever met is my own beloved husband, Jeremiah. He came to me with an intriguing business proposition, we became partners and... the more intimate kind of partner... and shortly thereafter I ended up in our first gun fight together, alongside my future third wife, Eymali."

Syl pauses and Eymali raises her hand before bowing her head in turn, following Syl's lead.

"Huntsmistress Eymali Bridger. For my part of this encounter. A nasty bunch of blighters tried to rob Syl and Jerry. They ordered me to leave. I didn't exactly comply, but appeared to. Even if Honor did not compel me to assist in that sort of situation, I'd not leave people to deal with those animals alone. My people have natural invisibility, so I doubled back and attacked from ambush, as is traditionally preferred by my people."

"Noted. Thank you, madam. Is there anything you'd like to say as a general statement for the record before we continue, Madame Sylindra?"

"Yes. As a matter of fact. I am beyond blessed to have my husband in my life. Beyond blessed to see our family grow as it has, both in terms of new sisters for me and wives for Jerry, but also in children, which I consider my true wealth. This ship. Credits. All of that is just things. My blessings are my children and my sister's children, and the incredible, warm and loving man who brought us together, and if I can say one thing about my husband is that he never stops thinking about and working for Earth. Not once, nor will he, I suspect, till his dying day."

"...I suppose your stance on children as blessings would be part of this large family photo I have of your many children. Including the first Human born out of Cruel Space."

"Humans counting some of my sisters children, but yes, that's right. Volpir like myself and my sisters have a faster gestation time than Humans. So I gave birth to my son, James, before the Schmidt family had their son." Syl chuckles. "Admittedly, my sweet boy didn't hatch from an egg like the Schmidt's child did. Volpir pregnancies are far more conventional from the Human perspective."

Jerry leans forward a bit, joining the conversation fully.

"For 'full human' children born out of Cruel Space, I believe Sharon will have that honor, with Diana not too far behind. We are of course keeping an eye on their pregnancies for research purposes, with that information being correlated and reviewed on the Dauntless. More invasive demands placed on my wives have been 'gently discouraged', both by myself and by Admiral Cistern."

"It strikes me they were likely discouraged at muzzle velocity if the rest of the Undaunted are anything to go by so far."

Jerry doesn't respond, just offers Observer Wu a wolfish grin before exchanging a look with Syl and picking up the story.

"So that brings us to the second shootout, which you and I have discussed in detail and reviewed the footage on. More importantly that event marks meeting Jaruna, my fourth wife, and Wichen, my gunnery officer, armory master and fifth wife. After two shootouts in as many weeks, I determined that Centris was no place to raise a family. I don't like cities to start with and Centris is... well. Nothing but the things I hate most about cities. I also believed we could do more good by taking our operation mobile. I was looking at a relatively small science ship, as I believe I mentioned, but Jaruna pointed out I wasn't thinking big enough, and the Tear just happened to be on the market."

"I still find it remarkable that such a large vessel can be kept casually in private ownership."

Syl grins. "I wouldn't say it can be kept casually in private ownership, it's a significant amount of work and expense to keep the Crimson Tear in the sky."

"I most certainly believe you madame, and you had enough money to buy a ship of that size?"

Sylindra tilts her head up a bit, clearly pleased with herself as she boasts;

"You have to understand the market on Centris, Observer, it's the most competitive, and lucrative market in the galaxy for one world operations. I was already considered very successful, and even before we went to market with the new products Nadi and I produced with Jerry, I was a very well off woman in my own right. We took a loan out, but that was more to keep more of our assets liquid. We then had a decent portion of the fitting out subsidized by the Undaunted. We've signed a fifty year contract for service as a fleet auxiliary cruiser for the Undaunted and negotiated for a lot of those modifications to be paid on their end. The expansion of our cloning business to pan-galactic scale's paid for everything else a hundred fold."

"Moving on, I have all the details of your initial cruise and your reports, but I did want to hear the initial start in your own words. Not to discount your other activities, but now I specifically wanted to ask about your counter-piracy operations and one other matter."

"I just bet I can guess the other matter. I take it you'd like to discuss the pirates first?"

"Yes. How prevalent is space piracy?" ...

Content cut off. Read original on https://old.reddit.com/r/HFY/comments/1ghhncw/oocs_odvm_special_event_inevitable_or_in_denial/

This is an automated archive made by the Lemmit Bot.

The original was posted on /r/hfy by /u/RNG_JL on 2024-11-01 21:46:44+00:00.

Grand Admiral Xoth couldn´t understand what he was seeing. It just didn´t made sense.

His people, the Krey, were still newcomers to the galactic community, but they were a warlike race and had already built a formidable fleet even before making first contact. Naturally, they sought to conquer other planets for their resources and labor. The Krey had always followed this path, using the spoils of war to fuel their economy.

And the galactic community didn’t object. Everyone did the same. This was just how life worked everywhere. Each species weighed the resources a war would cost against the potential gains. If a war promised a net profit, you declared war. Simple as that.

So, of course, we set our sights on the humans. They had lush green planets, systems rich in resources, and no real fleet to speak of. At first, we were skeptical. We expected some hidden fleet or a powerful weapon. After all, nobody else seemed even remotely interested in attacking the humans, which was odd.

We scouted the human star systems over and over. It wasn’t difficult, since the humans welcomed everyone. As long as you didn’t attack or steal, you could go anywhere and do whatever you pleased. But we found no sign of a hidden military fleet. The humans were simply peaceful diplomats and traders. They talked, they traded, and that was it.

They had only diplomatic ships, trade vessels, and some strange humanitarian relief fleets. We didn’t understand the purpose of the latter, but since they had no weapons, we didn’t give them much thought. Maybe we should have.

We assembled our fleet and set course for the human systems. At first, it was easy. The civilians couldn’t put up a fight and civilians were all they had. But soon, ships started arriving from all directions. They weren’t human ships; they came in every design imaginable, from species across the galaxy.

And now, Grand Admiral Xoth stood on the bridge of his flagship, staring at the strangest fleet he had ever seen. All the ships hailed the Krey and delivered the same message, each in their own tongue: „Prepare to die!”

He opened a channel, hoping for an explanation. „But why? The humans are weak, and your fleet consists of mortal enemies. Some of you were literally fighting each other just before you arrived.”

„Yes,” came the reply, „and soon, we will go back to our battles. We’ll count to ten and then start killing each other again. But for now, we’ve come together to destroy your fleet, all your fleets, and your planets.”

„But why?“

„Because they are the humans. They don´t care who you are. They are kind and helpful to everyone,“ came another voice.

„But why does that matter? No one cares about that.”

„Every single human ship will come to the aid of anyone in distress, any wounded, any child. They all do this. For large-scale disasters, they even have entire designated humanitarian relief fleets. We all owe them big times,” said yet another voice.

„So there are only two rules in this universe,” said the first voice again.

„1. The strong take from the weak.

2. DON´T TOUCH THE HUMANS!“

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Chapter CCXXV

Outskirts of Somewhere.

Forgrim and his lot trudged down the tracks, but as they trudged they felt a small measure of relief as they marched to what was to be their home, away from their former kin and home. The air was cool, and the wilderness was beautiful. Even when he and the others had started to march up the hill that cursed day, they had marveled at the untamed wilderness of the land around them. At the town that held no walls nor towers. That their guards were barely a handful of souls, not counting the goblins. Goblins have no souls, Forgrim thought as a portion of him that remained dwarfy simmered at the thought of the smaller greenskins.

They had initially thought the humans of this world mad for not building some form of protection or even a bare palisade! Especially as they encountered that creature that cursed day. If such a horror lurked so close to their home there would be leagues of stone between it and their kin.

Yet here they were now, Forgrim thought as they walked along the tracks. Banished. Their only source of company for the foreseeable future was their own, Odeas the gnome, and whatever dealings that Haunter has with the Clan Ulrin. But Forgrim couldn't help but note that the further they got from the mountains, the stone that once was central to their lives, and kin. They began to feel a measure of peace and calm. Perhaps it was the thrill of adventure taking hold. Though Forgrim doubt it. After their last expedition just to say hi to their neighbor ended led to their current misfortunes, they wanted nothing of the sort. Perhaps it was the relief of being away from their kin. No longer being forced to keep a stiff upper lip about their curse and do their best to not let it effect them too heavily. Which failed. Miserably.

Forgrim wasn't sure what it was, just that he and the others had a slight skip in their steps as they marched. The axe of doom hanging above their heads seeming to lift, even if it was likely to be temporary, Forgrim thought as they went.

It was fairly quiet as they marched. A scant few bird calls rang out across the valley this far from civilization. Most leaving to warmer climes, but a few hardy birds remained to weather the snow he could see falling in the horizon. As hardy as dwarves are, none of them were looking forwards to sleeping in the snow.

About the only one of their lot that wasn't at least in a relaxed mood was their gnomish busybody, Odeas. The bulbous gnat flinched and yelped at every little noise and movement. Even some small bird smaller than he was made the gnome damn near tumble over the tracks and down the incline into the river!

At this rate, the gnome will die of his own accord over whatever fate or the elements have in store for them, Forgrim thought with a grumble as he grabbed the large pack that clanked and clattered as the gnome moved and twitched and prevented him from once again falling down the incline.

As it got darker and darker, Forgrim was contemplating whether to make camp or not for the gnome. As cold as it was they could march on a couple more nights before needing rest. Perks of dwarvan fortitude. But the gnome wouldn't last a light march through the night. At this rate he might not last the waning daylight either, Forgrim thought as he grabbed hold of the pack once again and prevented the gnome from falling towards the river. Again.

They breathed a sigh of relief when they spotted what was more than likely their destination. Confirmed when Odeas stated as much after consulting the coordinates given to them. They put a little hurry in their step at finally reaching what was to be their home. It wasn't a half bad place truth be told, Forgrim thought. Despite the river shrinking to barely more than two dwarves across, it was still a hassle to get the gnome over. It was eventually decided upon that tossing him over the gap was the better, and more cathartic, of the options they had available.

Odeas screamed a high-pitched and nasally scream before landing in a pile as his pack made an awful racket. Yet most of what was held remained within as the gnome tried to free himself from the heavy and burdensome pack while the dwarves made short work of the gap with a sprinted jump.

Forgrim surveyed the area. Plenty of trees for shelter and defense, and access to fresh water. Though he questioned that last one as he turned an eye towards the river. Its black murkiness off putting. There was something foul about the water, he decided and the others agreed. They would need to cleanse it by boiling to make sure it was drinkable. Though the idea of drinking the water, even if it was purified, didn't make him feel any better. But this was their easiest, and best, source of water around. It was either this or dig and hope to hit a separate water chamber. But he also doubt that would happen either with the river so close. He just hoped the water was just off looking but still drinkable, it was either that or their deaths would arrive sooner than they'd hope for.

A couple of their number wandered not far from the clearing and quickly discovered a plethora of game trails nearby! So food, wood, and water. Maybe. He turned his gaze towards the mountain that loomed just a stones toss away from them to their east. No proper dwarf would even consider a proper settlement without a source of stone.

But for once, he was glad he wasn't feeling particularly dwarfy. He nor the others made a move to gather stone. They would still need to dig for foundations, irrigation, and waste removal. But stone was an item on their list that they were content to leave on the bottom of it for the time being.

As he and the others got to work setting up the outpost, or the rough outline of one, Odeas grabbed a small trawl from somewhere in his pack of things and dug a small hole barely big enough for a rabbit. He then pulled out a tarp from within the depths of the pack and with a nearby stick, made himself a small shelter. He unfastened the pack from himself, the series of leather straps, buckles, rope, twine, and anything else the gnomes used to hold the damn things, were undid and the pack fell with a heavy thud. The gnome sighed contentedly before shoving the pack closer to the small hole and thrust a hand into the pack and produced a book that Forgrim could barely make out in the fading light.

Odeas then hopped into the hole and began to read. Forgrim shook his head, and the gnomes and halflings wonder why many think them the same people, he thought as the gnome seemed to have little issue reading in the dim light. Forgrim scoffed. Damn gnomes had the eyesight of a blind mole and could barely see their own hand past their elbow, yet they had better night vision than dwarves!

"Not even goin' ta help us. Lazy wretch." One of the dwarves mumbled at the gnome's lack of effort in actually setting up the outpost.

The others grumbled as they worked, Forgrim didn't hold it against either them or the gnome. They weren't the most physical of races and shouldn't be expected to contribute to manual labor and provide adequate results, and dwarves just loved to grumble. Gave them something to do to pass the time as they worked.

Compared to humans though, they made short work making the basic foundation of their new home. Some simple latrines nearby, a few snares and simple rods for game and fish, and the start of a simple cabin for the eight of them. The dwarves voiced that Odeas seemed content with his hole and could wait a day or two for his own built shelter.

If the gnome heard them he didn't voice it. Either that was because he was a Dwarvish Gnome, a gnome raised around dwarves and assimilated some of their culture along with their script, and considered them 'exiles' like the rest of the clan did. Though he doubt that since it was his job to communicate between them and the clan in regards to trade.

Forgrim figured it had more to do with either the gnome not paying attention, which was impossible for a gnome to do, or the gnome simply didn't care. Forgrim would bet on the latter though as he would hear a rummaging from the pack now and then and see the gnome withdraw something from it along with the occasional sound of digging. Then he'd hear the turning of pages. Then rummaging. Then digging.

Forgrim rolled his eyes at the quirky habits of the gnome, well the gnomes as a whole. So he and the others continued their work. Setting a easy challenge to boost morale by getting it set up within the night. By the position of this world's moon, they'll easily meet their goal!

Trout's Landing.

The Dark Thing had accepted their offering, the murloc thought as it starred glassy eyes at The Dark Thing as it followed after the scaled things after devouring their offering. He must be following after them to exact punishment or tribute, the murloc thought. After all, the scaled things had given up the jetty to them without so much as a fight.

A few had wandered onto the wooden dock, and despite their clumsiness and flailing none had been ensnared in their traps! They had thought perhaps the fat and lazy larger lizards would be caught, but even they seemed to side-step or even outright ignore their cleverly placed traps!

No matter, the murloc thought as it turned its glassy eyes on the rest of the tribe. Line was thrown across the wood and over the sides and into the water. Already they were catching yet more fish to feed themselves ...

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Hi all, I don't believe a notification went out for the last episode, so if you missed it, you may want to go back so you don't accidentally skip it.

/-----------------------------/

Book 1/ Book 2

First / Previous

/-----------------------------/

"Daniel, I'm home!" Milla called out as she walked through the front door.

"In here," he called out from the lounge, looking up as she walked into the room.

"Oh dear," Milla chuckled. "Quite the predicament, hey?"

"You could say that," he agreed as he petted Felkira's head as she snored, before moving to the twins that were now waking up and stretching out. "Yes, Mum's back. How were they by the way?"

"Pits of endless energy as always," Milla chuckled as she watched the four dogs heading towards their water bowls. "Were Aurora and Bari both well behaved?"

"They slept pretty much the entire time," he replied as their purple scaled daughter and green scaled son began to scurry over to her. "I let Kris have a lay in. He deserves it with all the effort he's been putting into his exams."

"I'm awake now, Dad," Kris yawned as he slowly descended the stairs and headed to the kitchen.

"Ah, afternoon, Kris," Milla told him before looking over to the other side of the still sleeping Felkira. "Are you all good, Oprin?"

"Yep," she replied, pausing her game.

"Did you get the results back this morning like you hoped?"

"I did actually," Oprin confirmed. "My fertility has increased to 15%, so the treatment is working. In a few years, I might be completely healthy again."

"That's great news!" Milla exclaimed.

"It shouldn't be too much longer before we can do that thing we talked about," Oprin told both her and Daniel.

"What's going on?" Felkira yawned as she finally woke up, and then looked at Milla and then the four dogs as they trotted into the room. "Ah, you're all back."

"They're all as tired as they're going to get," Milla told her.

"So ready to run a marathon?" Felkira chuckled as she got up and headed over to her giant dog bed, causing the four dogs to join her in the smaller beds that surrounded it.

"Oh, Daniel, you're working tomorrow, aren't you?" Milla asked.

"Yeah, we've got a pen test for the new cargo freighter going on," he replied. "Why do you ask?"

"Just thinking about managing the kids, that's all. I've been asked to go in tomorrow afternoon as they want me to help with an issue they've found with the new jump drive," she explained. "It's apparently consuming too much power for medium gravity jumps to pass the minimum specs and they want a meeting on it, and I'm the lead on the design and all."

"I can watch them?" Oprin offered. "I'm not working this week."

"Thanks, we'd appreciate it," Milla told her.

"I wouldn't be a good wife to you both if I didn't help out when needed, would I?" she pointed out as she shifted over to Daniel and began to rest her head on his shoulder.

"I'm free as well as always, but I guess I'll be looking after this lot first and foremost," Felkira added as she looked at the dogs.

"How's Affinity getting on as your team's lead designer by the way?" Daniel asked Oprin.

"Very well, actually. I'm learning a lot from her, and she's cranking out essentially perfect ship designs like no one's business. She's really getting the hang of the style and comfort aspects now," Oprin explained.

"That's good to hear. I was somewhat worried that her collaboration with Quentellia would make her think far too much about optimisation," Daniel told her.

"It has had a lot of influence on her designs though. They're extremely efficient, and are so advanced the Navy is getting concerned civilian craft are about to outpace them," Oprin chuckled. "I think we're going to be working on military designs in the near future."

"It's a shame we still haven't figured out what the AI laws should be, but at least she gets to do what she enjoys," Milla commented as she assumed her humanoid forms and sat down on the other side of Daniel, bringing Aurora and Bari onto their laps. "Any idea what's on the news today?"

"No, actually," Daniel replied as he turned the holo on and changed the channel from a kids show.

"There was that thing with the galactic community going on today, wasn't there?" Kris asked as he came in with a bowl of pork crackling and sat down next to Milla. "Something about giving a verdict on finalising the integration of Clan Kesen'tar and the former slave worlds into the UPC?"

"Oh yeah, that was today, wasn't it?" Daniel realised.

"I don't get why they have to approve it. We saved them and allied with them. If they want to join us, they should be able to," Kris grumbled.

"The Community is our ally too. We don't want to annoy them unnecessarily. All they want to do is ensure that they are treated fairly and their culture is preserved. They are concerned we'll end up being another Leshnat-trevarn. They haven't known us for very long after all."

"That's stupid. We beat them in a war! We're better than they were!"

"We're stronger than them, and that's all the Community knows for sure. They don't have hundreds or thousands of years of interaction with us to really understand us. We also have banned technology in the form of an AI, so they're also wary of her. so they're extra wary of us in case she turns out like they fear."

"Plus they want to avoid us kicking off another war with the remnants of the Empire," Milla added. "They're glad to see them get knocked on their butts but don't want them to suffer the same fate they subjected others to."

"They wouldn't be stupid enough to try again," Kris confidently stated.

"Emotions can be far more potent than logic," Daniel warned him. "All it takes is someone to use a point of outrage to rally the fractured parts of the Empire, and suddenly they have a lot of bloodthirsty people following them. We've seen it happen more than once, and after the second world war, we know to look out for it."

"We move onto that in history in a month or so, so I'll bear that in mind."

"Oh, you remember the other day at the parent-teacher meeting they said you should start thinking about what you want to do in life? Have you given that any thought?" Milla asked.

"I know I want to be in the STEM fields, but I don't know which yet," Kris replied. "I quite like chemistry, so I was thinking along those lines, but I'm still not quite sure."

"You don't need to have everything figured out yet, but it's good to have a rough idea as you'll be choosing your college classes before too long," she reminded him.

"I know, Mum, you don't have to keep telling me that," Kris sighed.

"We just want to make sure you keep doing well," Daniel assured him. "We're just proud of you because you're at the top of so many of your classes, and we want to make sure you get the most out of your talents."

"I know…."

"And don't make the mistake of choosing subjects just because your friends are doing them. Nor your girlfriend," Daniel warned him.

"I don't have a girlfriend," Kris replied.

"Then who is that sweet silver Dragon you keep bringing home?" Daniel pointed out.

"She's, um, err… just a friend."

"You kiss all your friends then, do you?" Daniel smirked.

"... Maybe?"

"Kris, even if I couldn't smell you were lying it'd be obvious," Milla chuckled. "We don't mind as long as you don't do anything stupid, ok? And we're sure you won't because that's not like you."

"... Her name is Velthantha," Kris grumbled.

"You should introduce us properly soon," Milla told him.

"Please don't do this…" Kris begged.

"Let's give him a little bit of space, Dear," Daniel suggested.

"Please do," Kris requested, getting up and walking round to the other side of the sofa so he was sitting next to Oprin. "You're never cruel to me."

"I won't say I'm not interested though," Oprin chuckled as she watched Aurora climb over to her lap so she could look up at Kris. "Ooh, looks like someone else likes you."

"Ehp," Aurora chirped as she sat down on Oprin's lap and looked up at Kris, wagging her tail.

"... No," Kris replied.

"Ehp!" Aurora insisted, waving her paw at her mouth.

"Kris, have you been sneaking snacks to your sister?" Milla accused him.

"I only gave them both a little bit of chicken," he attempted to defend himself.

"They're still at the age where we have to monitor their eating as they will happily gorge themselves," Milla reminded him.

"We appreciate you looking out for them, but please give it a few more weeks before breaking from their diet," Daniel added.

"I don't remember you being so strict with me," Kris pointed out.

"That's because no one was sneaking you extra food," Daniel pointed out.

"Well…" Oprin mumbled. "... Only the occasional snack so he'd warm up to me faster as a stranger."

"Oprin…" Milla sighed. "... Chocolate?"

"Yeah…" she admitted.

"I thought some of his food contained more sugar than expected. Thankfully it didn't make him hyperactive, but I spent hours trying to figure out why things were off."

"Sorry, I didn't realise," Oprin apologised.

"It didn't cause anything to happen in the end, so you're forgiven," Milla told her....

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[First] [Prev] [Next] [Royal Road]

___________

Vilantian Warfreighter "Hidepiercer"

Grezzk wondered not for the first or even hundredth time how this had happened. She and Gro'zel had made their way to the spaceport and after making a few quiet inquiries she was able to take passage on this ship in exchange for working in the mess and laundry until they reached their destination, New Casablanca. It was supposed to only be a short trip, but as the hours stretched into a day and then a second it became clear they were not going to where Grezzk wanted to go. It was clear she was going to have to escape the ship at their next port, so she began using her ignorance of the ship layout to go into areas that weren't specifically the mess or laundry. After a few times she was able to locate an emergency escape pod, but not before being caught.

After she was never alone. A large brute was her shadow ever after, ensuring that she went where she was told and only where she was told. The ship was dimly lit, and tracking time became all but impossible with her work and catching sleep by the handful in the moments when there wasn't someone hungry or in need of fresh laundry. How many days had it been? The only other thing she was given was a wrist-screen that showed Gro'zel in a cage, somewhere on the ship. It was hard to track her, the ship-scent was overwhelming with other things that seemed medical and almost sleep inducing. Still she would stop and look around slowly now and again. Her daughter was here, somewhere. She would have to husband her strength for one moment to find Gro'zel, free her, and get both of them into the escape pod.

She had to be dreaming - she would swear she heard her beloved introducing himself as Captain Gryzzk. It made no sense. She paused, feigning a stomach pain and her guard paused. Her mind raced. Gryzzk was an observer for their lord, for this mission with the Terrans. But if Lord A'kifab had betrayed her, Gryzzk may have been betrayed as well. Even now her mind briefly reeled at the sundering of the Clan-Way.

She still heard her husband, imploring the ship captain to stand down and let them on board to look for her. She remembered an old joke, born of their first meeting without chaperones - they had walked in the woods where Gryzzk had spent his youth. As they walked, the twilight roses along the path began to bloom and sparkle as she walked by them. Gryzzk noticed and said that the roses only bloomed when they were competing with true beauty. She laughed and replied that the roses awaited a handsome hand to pluck them. From then on it became their joke - but now it was serious. She had to let him know that she was on board.

She threw the cart down and raced toward the bridge of the ship, howling as loudly as she could that the twilight rose bloomed and awaited a handsome hand. She got half of it out and darkness overtook her.

___________

Terran Mercenary Ship "Voided Warranty"

As soon as the comm channel was dropped, Major Williams slapped his own comm channel to prepare the entire crew for "a ride on the Maverick", and then barked out a series of orders to the helm and a second series to the gunnery controls to load tesla-pedoes and to aim properly this time. The crew was well trained and latched on to grab handles and harnesses and the ship thrusters responded to send the ship down, sideways, and then up before firing several torpedoes in succession that detonated against the engines of the Hidepiercer, leaving them sputtering and then cold. From there, the helm let the Voided Warranty continue as momentum dictated, bringing the docking hatches alongside and firing several metallic rings that splattered against the hull of the Hidepiercer, while the helm was muttering something about being a leaf on the wind. It was an eternal moment of combat that showed how well the Terrans trained. He'd heard about it a few times, that Terran battles were bloody drills and their drills were bloodless battles. Having seen both ground and ship combat, he would confirm that to any who would listen. And almost as suddenly as it started, the maneuvers and wild pitching were done and the Hidepiercer was locked with both Terran vessels.

"Captain Gryzzk, orders for the troops." Major Williams was looking at him expectantly.

There was a long, long moment while Gryzzks mind looked at the situation and tried to find familiarity. And finally he remembered having to coordinate the whole staff to remove a swarm of silk-hoppers; it was simple in theory, close the windows and give them nowhere to go except where he wanted them to go. He opened a channel to all four squads.

"Aft boarding parties, use gas grenades. Forward boarding parties, stun rounds - move them toward the rear. We want the crew out of engineering but still toward the aft of the ship. Eyes open for any pregnant women, they may be unconscious. Medical teams on standby please." Gryzzk pulled up the close scan to see if he could discern moving life signs from non-moving ones. "Scan shows approximately...twenty moving." He paused for a moment before signing off with "Good hunting."

Gryzzk left the comm channel open, listening to the squads chatter and glancing toward the bridge door more than a few times. Major Williams cleared his throat and leaned in. "Good so far." It seemed to be the highest praise he could have earned at this point.

From his console Gryzzk could see each squad as they moved methodically through the ship, with communications displaying various helmet visuals and carrying the sounds of the boarding parties – their conversational tones were changing from focused to curious to some form of surprise and finally settling on an exceptional disapproval bordering on anger. Whatever the boarding parties had found it had offended Terran sensibilities – which did not bode well for the future health of the crew of the Hidepiercer.

Finally a voice came over the comms that Gryzzk recognized. "Muranaga to Captain Gryzzk, ship secure. Stand by - we are venting the engineering section."

The weight of relief surged through Gryzzk, looking over to the Major for a moment, considering. "Major Williams, I would like to inspect the ship."

There was a nod. "By all means Captain."

Gryzzk straightened his beret and went to the forward docking hatch, where First Sergeant Brooks was waiting with the Learning Stick. "You'll be needin' this I think, Captain" was all she said as she handed it over to him.

"Thank you, First Sergeant." Gryzzk took the weapon and pushed off hard to float through the boarding tube to the Hidepiercer. Along with him were several other teams that were lightly armed – they also appeared to be carrying containers and equipment that would aid in inspecting and securing the ship.

The lighting and gravity were comfortable, the scene was not. A medic had made it onboard and was attending Grezzk with exceptional caution as she stirred slowly. Several other personnel were busy throughout the ship making sure it could be moved again once they were done with the crew. Meanwhile, there was a cleared area of twenty Vilantians arranged neatly with hands behind their head with a general air of defeat about them. The reason for their general air was the ten Terrans milling about with weapons drawn and focused - the weapons themselves were different from what he'd seen, appearing to be made to deliver shock-darts or other projectiles that weren't immediately lethal. Around that was the reason for the earlier cries of dismay - rows of racks, each carrying various supplies and a Vilantian with an intravenous needle feeding them something - given their state, they were probably in a medically induced stasis. A small placard at their feet announced their name, Clan affiliation, and crime. On the whole, the entire ship reeked of activities that were not even remotely legal.

The priority here was obvious - Gryzzk darted toward Grezzks' form and stopped short. The medic glanced up. "Light concussion. She'll be awake soon, looks like the kids'll be fine." There was a pause. "Captain?"

"As soon as she can be moved, take her to medical bay on the Warranty." Gryzzk knelt down, giving his wife a gentle nuzzle to her ears and whispering gently to her "A handsome hand waits for the twilight rose to bloom."

Then he stood and began advancing toward the captives, who seemed to regain something of themselves at his approach, their scent migrating from defeat to defiance.

Gryzzk paced for a moment, rolling the shoulder that carried the Learning Stick. "Who struck her?"

Silence was his response as the circle of Terrans made a passage for him. "Nobody? Was it the dead gods? The dead gods came from their lands and struck my wife, is that what I'm understanding? Or is that I stand before cowards too feeble to claim their sins and would only claim glory? Who thought it wise and proper? Pitiful wretches."

Finally goaded, the largest took a step forward. For a Vilantian, he was tall – almost as tall as a Terran. "I was the one. What say you now, Nameless."

Gryzzk didn't say anything as he launched forward, taking the Learning Stick in both hands and swinging the mace in a downward arc, then bringing it up...

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Previous / First

Writer's Note: Didn't think I'd write today. But here we are.

Enjoy.

As Joey and Captain Kaladi struggled to defeat each other, someone besides Noodle and the retreating Ykmir watched with great intensity.

He stood to the side, his bottomless dark eyes sealed shut as he used his other, more godly, senses to bear witness anyways.

He saw the struggle in the younger Choi's heart. The anger. The fear. The desire to simply be left alone.

He knew that struggle. He'd had it himself years before, in a different lifetime.

He watched as the two of them locked blades one last time. The Cobalt Legion Captain was almost finished, while Joey still had energy to spare.

He listened as Joey gave the captain one last chance.

"Stop fighting and you might still survive what you've done to yourself." He said through clenched teeth as he squeezed her wrist with bone-breaking strength as he bent her over backwards.

The metal of her armor squealed as it failed to resist the strength in the grip. Her face was the purple of a bruise and her eyes, nose, and ears were bleeding as blood vessels all throughout her body burst from strain. The pupil in her left eyes was a ragged hole that no longer allowed clear vision. Pink foam lined the corners of her mouth as she breathed out in ragged gasps.

"I don't want to hurt people." Joey said. "I don't want to kill people. I don't want to kill you." He pressed harder. But she continued straining to push her short sword deeper into his side. It was futile. With his grip and his own blade puncturing her thigh she had no leverage to gain. But he felt the struggle.

She'd put on a better fight than she should have given her injuries. But no amount of aide from her armor could win her this battle.

She looked him in the eyes, past the painful light of his luminescence, and she saw, despite all the other conflicting emotions in there, the small part of him that was pleading for her to just... relent.

The being watching continued to focus on the fighting pair.

And it did something no other "God" had ever done before.

It began to practice faith in another being.

It knew..... with every ounce of its incorporeal existence.... that it's little brother would be better than it had been when it had still been mortal.

But it could, by nature, not do anything to ensure that.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Joey pressed his sword hand forward ever so slightly, causing the legionnaire to move closer to the ground as he pushed down on it. Its tip was already several inches into the ground beneath her.

She was dying.

He'd known that the moment she'd activated her armor's ultimate enhancements. They would burn her body like a resource to buy her more power. But she'd crossed the boundary into lethal usage territory minutes ago.

And even with the sword still lodged in his left kidney, it hadn't gotten her any kind of permanent damage on him. His wand was already fully regrown from losing fingers. His lung was un-punctured. His right leg had no sign of the slash that had flayed open his calf.

He was, with the exception of the blade still inside of him, fine.

She had won nothing from him except time, and his mounting anger.

And he hated the fear he was now seeing in her slowly stilling left eye.

He'd never wanted to be the cause of anything like that for anybody.

He was reminded of something his brother had once said to him during one of his breakdowns back before he'd "left."

> 
> "So yeah Jojo. I understand the way you reacted back at the desert. I might be the only other person in our family who does. And I broke rule number one too." James had said with a pained smile and a haunted look as he sat on Joey's bed back at the castle. "I've broken that rule quite a few times since I've gotten here."
> 
> 
> 

They'd sat in an uncomfortable silence for a few moments before James had continued.

"Noone's gonna blame you if you want to stop learning magic Jojo." He'd said with a hand on Joey's leg. "Nobody's gonna blame you for wanting to stay in here after what happened. It's... it's understandable. But mom needs you to at least come back out of the room from time to time. Veliry wants you back out. I want you back out. Hell. I bet even Batty would like to see you again and hang out." He'd given a small nod, mostly to himself. Before taking a long breath, as if to brace himself. "Scratch that." He said. He'd pointed at his own chest. And his next words had sounded pained. "IIIII... definitely need you back man.... I'm in over my head here." He'd admitted. Joey had never seen fear like that in his brother's eyes before. "And most of the stuff I do is so that I can see you and mom again and make sure you two are safe.

A few minutes and a bit more talking later, his brother had left him with one last message.

"Take your time Jo." He said as he'd gotten back to his feet with the aide of a pair of crutches. "But come back to us okay?"

Joey looked back into the dying warrior's eyes as he snapped back to the current moment. Her head was lolling slightly as she struggled to maintain focus.

"I'm not a monster." He said firmly as he released his rapier and placed his hand on her heavily dented breast plate. "I am not my disability. I'm not its slave. And I won't be yours either." His other hand pulled her sword arm back and away from him at the same time, withdrawing her sword from his abdomen in the process.

White light flared between them as his hand grew brighter than the very sunlight around them.

"But I'm not letting you stop me either."

His hand rushed forward, pressing her back.

Her left leg buckled from strain even as the tibia and fibia of her right leg shattered from the sudden downward force. If her lungs had still been fully functional, she would have screamed even despite the pain nullifying effects of her armor. Effects which had slowly lost function as the battle had worn on.

She impacted the ground with an explosion of dirt and stone as Joey pressed her into it. Her armor screamed and tore as he worked his imagination toward her defeat.

Behind him, and unseen to him, his brother smiled before leaving again.

After several long seconds, which felt like hours to her, Joey stood up over the defeated warrior. The wound on his side flared white as it healed itself. He was breathing heavily.

"You'll live." He said as he looked down at her. "But you won't be my problem ever again."

Below, Captain Kaladi was entombed in her armor. But it wasn't really her armor anymore.

It no longer had joints or seams, and looked instead like it had been melted onto her as she lay there broken.

She struggled feebly at it with her broken body. But its enchantments had been broken the same way it had, and she was wracked with pain and exhaustion. Even if she hadn't been, portions of her "armor" had been fused together to form long, spiraling, stakes that now extended several feet into the ground below. Only her head was exposed now. But the rest of her was immobilized. All the plates and joints having been fused together like malleable putty by Joey's mind and power.

Joey pulled his rapier out of her thigh with a wet rasp, causing her to whimper in pain, and also took the short sword from her petrified gauntlet, as he stood up and took a long, exhausted breath.

"Under...." She wheezed painfully from behind him. Bloody foam oozed out of her mouth as one of her eyes rested in the wrong spot compared to the other. He spared her a glance. She was delirious. "....a....arr....arrest."

"Shut up." He said dismissively as he made his way out of the miniature crater she now rested in.

He didn't have time to spare her anymore attention. As their fight had progressed, and as she'd become weaker and easier to deal with, he'd noticed the ruckus of the nearby woods. He'd also noticed Noodle's agitated state, and also the flaring magical energies that had been rapidly approaching.

He knew what, or more accurately WHO, was approaching.

And as he stood back to his full height he saw the man he'd expected to see.

Despite the layers of blood, fur, branches and needles, and a familiar yellowish green fecal goo, Joey easily recognized the blade-crested blue and black helm of Commander Vann as he finally fought his way free of the horde of slingers he'd just slaughtered his way through.

Behind him a handful of other Cobalt Legionnaires were similarly hacking their way out of the forest before turning so they could continue holding the encroaching horde off for their commander.

Noodle fired a blast of fire at the commander as he stalked forward. In response he raised his hand and a field of blue appeared in front of his hand as his fingers glowed with runes. The flame of the blast bounced off at an angle and dissipated harmlessly in the sky.

Joey walked up next to her and slapped her flank lightly. She roared as she looked back at him with anger before realizing who it was.

"Get out of the way girl." He said as she stepped to the side and fell back, somewhat afraid of yet another dangerous smart thing. "This is mine."

Vann paused as he saw the discarded helmet of his captain on the ground between them. Then he looked around at all the blood scattered around the area. Finally, he looked at the crater Joey had just emerge...
***
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Previous

First | Series Index | Galactic Map | RoyalRoad | Patreon | Discord

++++++++++++++++++++++++

TRNS Bali, Terra (0.2 Ls)

POV: Jakub Fiedor, Terran Republic Navy (Rank: Captain)

“Captain! CIC reports that the Corsica took a hit, midsection to rear! They’ve got at least two modules open to vacuum.”

“How bad?”

“They’ve lost primary comms! But sensors show they’re still cruising at 85% of maximum acceleration. We’re the second closest ship. Should we cancel our attack run and burn to assist? We can reach their position in twelve minutes.”

Jakub looked at the damaged friendly ship on the battlemap, noting their severed connection from the datalink network. In the maelstrom of thousands of incoming and outgoing missiles — mostly incoming — they weren’t going to stand much of a chance without assistance from the myriad of electronic countermeasures coordinated by the destroyer squadrons, trying their best to confuse the enemy sensors. Without connection, the damaged ship had minutes before it was exposed.

He glanced at the other side of the battlemap. Hundreds of enemy space superiority ships. With most of the command structure crippled, the remaining enemy ships were operating on autopilot — a few of them literally. But they could still hurt. Hurt the people he was responsible for.

Billions of them.

He had a job to do.

“Negative,” he replied, “They are on their own. Continue the attack burn.”

++++++++++++++++++++++++

TRNS Corsica, Terra (0.2 Ls)

POV: Ozawa Akane, Terran Republic Navy (Rank: Captain)

Ozawa ignored the pain in her bruised ribs as she coughed. “Sitrep, XO?”

“We took another proximity hit! Outgoing comms are busted. CIC says we’re out of the EW network, but we can still read backup signals. We’re trying our best to shadow our decoys, but it’s a matter of time before the Buns find us in this—”

“What about our missile bay? The fire—”

“The fire’s vented. Missile bay doors are still jammed. Damage control two is working on it.”

“Tell them to get to it. We’ve gotta get those warheads out!”

“Roger, Captain. They’ve got—”

BwahBwahBwahBwahBwahBwahBwahBwah. Incoming. Incoming. Incoming. BwahBwah—

Ozawa tightened her grip on her seat restraints in one hand, her armrest in the other. There was a deafening, ripping sound as the ship’s point defense hardpoints engaged the incoming threats.

Brrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrr— Bang.

She looked at her exec, relieved that they were both still there. “Sitrep—”

“Another proximity hit! We’ve lost four woodpeckers in the top-aft quadrant!” he read off his console in rapid-fire. “Six casualties in the engine room, situation stabilized. Uncontrolled fires in two unoccupied rear modules. Automatic venting—”

“What about our missiles—”

“Damage control says they can blow the bay doors now, but that’d be a permanent remodel—”

Her trained instincts kicked in. “Do it! Blow it!”

“Yes, ma’am.”

Ten seconds later, there was another loud blast in the belly of the ship as the broken missile bay doors were forcibly ejected from their mounts. At least this one was intentional.

“Let the missiles out,” she ordered.

“Which targets?”

“They can figure it out on the way! Atlas Command will—”

“Yes, ma’am. Launching!”

The missiles separated from the ship, and Ozawa let out a mild sigh of relief as she watched their signatures disappear into a cluster of friendly outgoing signals on the battlemap.

At least we got another two out. Who knows how many lives that is?

“Now burn us out of here back to safety, somewhere in low or medium Terra!”

“No service docks available for us,” he replied. “All occupied for rearm as far as we can tell. And we’ve put ourselves out of range of all friendly assets with that last burn course—”

“Never mind that! Just displace us out of this volume! Where’s the closest blue ship to us now?”

“Propulsion says we might be able to get in the point defense bubble of the Mojave in eight minutes.”

“The Mojave?” Ozawa looked at him quizzically as the name temporarily eluded her in the adrenaline. “Is that—”

“It’s one of the new Pythons, Captain. Squadron 11. Just christened last week.”

“Ah, as long as her woodpeckers and EW work. Get us into their—”

BwahBwahBwahBwahBwahBwahBwahBwah. Incoming. Incoming. Incoming. BwahBwahBwahBwahBwahBwah.

Brrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrr.

Another pair of Znosian missiles flew by, missing the Corsica by just a few dozen kilometers as they ran out of propellant.

“How close are we?” Ozawa asked impatiently.

“Still eight minutes from the Mojave, ma’am.”

Time sure moves fast when we’re having fun.

“I don’t think we have eight minutes! Tell CIC to throw out whatever we don’t need — dump fuel if they need to — see if they can make us a little bit faster—”

“Ma’am! There’s a fresh cluster coming straight our way! Sixteen vampires! EW network adjustment missed our last burn!”

Ozawa slumped down a little in her chair. She’d been here before. Mostly in simulations and not the fun ones. “They found us,” she said, her mouth dry.

“Incoming! Sixty seconds!”

“All hands, abandon all efforts at damage control, and get to your armored modules! Brace for hard impact! Cut the engines on inertial device failure…”

BwahBwahBwahBwahBwahBwahBwahBwah. Incoming. Incoming. Incoming. BwahBwah—

Brrrrrrr— Bang.

The incoming missiles hit the ship near simultaneously. The rumbles in the ship hull were loud, and whatever the incoming munitions trashed, the ship finally had enough. The engines cut out. The dim lights on the bridge went out, replaced by the dim red emergency lighting. There was an unsettling crunch in the rear of the ship. And everything that wasn’t strapped down went flying… Which wasn’t that much; the Corsica was a disciplined crew.

Ozawa coughed again in her sealed helmet. Her ribs hurt, and there was blood in her mouth. Ignoring the discomfort, she glanced to the seat to her side. “XO, you there?”

“I’m still here, Captain. We’ve lost propulsion, reactor ejected…” he grunted. For a second, he turned his ears to listen to the hum of the machinery. “… And no APU, it sounds like.”

“Any other ideas?”

“Negative, ma’am. We… we did our best.”

“Then, I think… that’s all she wrote for us,” Ozawa said calmly as she flipped up the emergency panel on her now-battery-powered controls. Removing a safety hatch, she held down the large red button for two seconds.

The ship’s general alarm sounded seven short trumpet blasts and one long one on the reserve batteries.

Abandon ship! This is not a drill. Abandon ship! This is not a drill.

They undid their seat restraints and propelled themselves over to the bridge escape pods in zero gravity along with her officers in somber quiet. There were a couple of minor injuries on the bridge being attended to, but the armored module had been protected from most of the incoming fire. The hull began to thump as pods and shuttles from other sectors of the ship ejected into vacuum, away from the doomed Peacekeeper.

Ozawa waited at the status panel, making sure that the last pods from medical bay reported their successful launch before activating her own evacuation sequence. Her XO murmured to her as they strapped themselves into the seats, “The battle. Do you think we’ve won?”

She sighed. “I don’t know.”

“There were a lot of the alien ships.”

“All I know is one thing, XO.”

“Yeah?”

She pointed out the virtual windows of the escape pod, down towards the near-pristine blue marble occupying a good chunk of its view. The one they were fighting to protect. “It looks like they haven’t won yet either.”

++++++++++++++++++++++++

TRNS Sonora, Terra (0.1 Ls)

POV: Catarina Ibarra, Terran Republic Navy (Rank: Captain)

The Sonora’s executive officer reported the latest fleet update to the bridge. “They’re firing again, but it looks like Znosian fleet discipline has broken down even further after their first few volleys. And their missiles seem to have extra trouble with our Raven-6 dazzlers, so we’re going to bring more of those in our next countermeasure load. Ship computer is reprogramming to optimize itself for the new loadout—”

“Casualty update?” Catarina asked.

Kyrylo glanced at his console again. “Several additional hits on our other ships after the initial volley. Two ships damaged in Squadron 4, three in Squadron 5, two in Squadron 6. All Peacekeepers so far. Those old ships are tough; good damage control, thank the Red Zone experience for that… They’re all still in the fight. Ah, actually, I think 5-3 — the Corsica — she just called it quits; they’ve launched escape shuttles and pods.”

The lifepod signals from the dying Corsica flickered on the battlemap as even the sensitive sensor suite of the Sonora struggled to track them. Like much of the frontline equipment in the Republic Navy, they too had been upgraded and coated in low-observability material. That particular design requirement had been controversial: the Navy weighed the risk of missing spacers against the possibility of capture or destruction by the Republic’s less-than-h...

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The original was posted on /r/hfy by /u/Ambitious-Basil-5518 on 2024-11-01 14:46:39+00:00.

I'd like to thank u/KyleKKent for the wonderful galaxy which he envisioned and shared. This story takes place in that world and I hope I do it justice. All credit for the creation of that world goes to the original author; My only hope is that he approves of this little work of mine.

Anyway hope you enjoy the story.

Xavier had endured a long journey through the vastness of space. The weightlessness he experienced was both a relief and a torment. It was a relief because his bones no longer felt compressed, and even the pain in his shoulder was subsiding. For the first time in his life, he felt like a child again. The sensation of weightlessness allowed him to play in ways he never had as a kid, igniting a spark deep within him—something he thought he had lost long ago. It brought him a pure, unfiltered joy for life. He was here, present in the moment. Yes, he was older, and yes, he bore the scars of a lifetime marked by poverty and neglect, but could those wounds be healed in the galaxy? How many of those rumors were true? He couldn't wait to find out.

The trip had its challenges, especially when it came to using the bathroom and staying clean—tasks that proved to be quite a hassle. Additionally, there were doctors on board who wanted to examine him, interested in studying how an ordinary citizen reacted to the journey. Unlike many others he had encountered, he did not have family aboard the Dauntless; it seemed that those with family made up the majority of the passengers.

There was also an actual crew on the ship, with everyone assigned specific roles. He found himself limited to helping in the mess hall or performing janitorial duties. While the work was frustrating, he didn’t mind it much. He was simply waiting—waiting for the moment they would emerge from Cruel Space so he could finally begin his life anew. He looked forward to a healing coma, hoping, against hope, that it wasn't just a lie.

At that moment, he was cleaning one of the recreational rooms. He used a plunger in one hand to steady himself while gently wiping down the equipment with a microfiber cloth. It had taken him some time, but he had figured out an effective system for carrying his cleaning supplies. He repurposed spare strips of cloth from worn-out rags and Velcro from ripped clothing to create a small carrying bag for all the tools he needed.

Although the cleaning crew was provided with a standard carrying case, it had its drawbacks. You had to remove each item one at a time, use it, and then put it back. Additionally, you had to be careful to prevent your tools or cleaning chemicals from floating away. He solved this problem by attaching Velcro and cloth to each item he used. Instead of a case, he secured everything to his legs with strips of cloth he had made. This way, he could quickly grab whatever he needed and easily let it go when he wasn't using it; the items were held in place by the cloth strips attached to a uniquely colored belt made from those same scraps.

He used two plungers to anchor himself to the floor, wall, or ceiling while also propelling himself across the rooms he was assigned to clean.

It wasn't a perfect system; he had to be careful to ensure that the various items he was using didn’t become tangled. However, the speed and control he had with the plungers more than compensated for that minor inconvenience. He found it amusing that his fellow janitorial staff initially mocked his invention, yet they all ended up creating something similar within a week. It just goes to show that while a fancy engineer might design something elaborate when you want something to work well, you turn to someone who understands the practicalities.

He was in the middle of cleaning one of the Zero-G treadmills when another man floated up and began helping him from the other side. They worked in teams, after all, which made the tedium of the task a bit more bearable. He simply nodded at the man and said, "I've already taken care of the upper controls and the arm handles. All that's left is the base and the tread portion."

"Good, this is the last one. I have to say, whoever thought of these belts was a genius," the man replied as he started to work.

"Well, thank you," he said with a grin.

"Wait. You designed these?"

"More like I made one for myself, and everyone started copying me after teasing me about how ridiculous I looked." He paused for a moment. "My name's Xavier."

"I'm Mike," the man smiled back at him. "So, who are you coming out into the galaxy to see?"

"No one," Xavier sighed. "I'm one of the lucky lottery winners."

"Ouch, aren’t there like five of you?"

"Ten. I met them all in sickbay. We may have won the lottery, but we still have to pay for our trip by letting the doctors poke and prod us. They’re studying the effects of the trip on non-trained personnel or something like that."

"Well, I'm coming out here for my sister. She made the crew on the Dauntless as a scientist. That little bribe from the Speaker of the Council was no joke," he said, shaking his head.

"Yeah, if it wasn't for that bribe and the fact that some renowned scientist wanted to conduct this study, there wouldn't have been a lottery for me. I'm too old and broken to go through any training. For me, it was just watching everything unfold and hoping against hope that the trip would get cheap enough for me to afford it before I die."

"You don't look broken. Old, yes, but not broken."

Xavier ran a hand over his bald head, emphasizing the few strands of hair left on top, a result of male pattern baldness. He drew the man's attention to the grey hair and continued, "Man, I've been through the wringer in life. I had a titanium knee installed when I was 17, suffered seven major concussions by the time I turned 27, and been in so many fights that my teeth have deteriorated from all the damage. I'm lucky to have any teeth left at this point. Then there was the time I broke my shoulder in a bicycling accident—and I didn't have insurance at the time. I had to go to work anyway, just to keep a roof over my head. My whole life has been spent far below the poverty line; I might as well have been homeless. Yet somehow, I've managed to avoid living on the streets." He sighed.

As he spoke the sheer regret he had for his life passed through him. They might have been in zero G but it came through in his body language. Mike's eyes couldn't help but look at him differently. He saw it. It was the same any time he spoke about his past. The other man just thought for a moment, "Damned man I'm sorry to hear that."

"Don't be. Please don't be. I don't want sympathy. Besides, all that pain was part of the reason I was able to make it into the lottery for this trip. They wanted to see how someone with below-average health fared on the trip. And I'm supposed to get a healing coma out of this. God, I hope that rumor is true."

"How old are you anyway? If you don't mind me asking."

"Nah I don't mind. I brought all this up anyway. I'm forty-five."

"Shit, I thought you were at least sixty."

"I feel like I'm eighty."

"Well, I can confirm the healing coma is true. My sister had one after an accident in the lab. She is five years older than me, but she looks like she is just coming out of her teens. That was quite a shock for my family in one of her letters home."

"Never got one of those letters; only the huge rumor mill and leaks." He shrugs, "Anything else you can tell me?" He continues to wipe down the tread. It was a long and tedious task in this gravity.

"Sure, you wash, I'll dry on that tread I just finished up over here." He nods to Mike and starts working. Mike moves over to start drying and begins talking as they now work together, "Well apparently this axiom space magic is easy to use but hard to master. In the letter home, my sister said it was all about will intent and knowledge."

"Damned, I can't tell you how excited I am to get out there into the Galaxy. I mean, this is like every dream I ever had coming to life."

"Any plans once we get out?"

"Honestly, Healing Coma, then some martial arts training or retraining rather. After that, I don't know. Hell, I don't know how I'm gonna pay for it honestly. Might try to pay for it with my hobbies back from Earth. I mean there should be a market for that somewhere." He shrugs.

"What hobbies would those be?"

"Woodworking and blacksmithing. Old fashioned hand tools each."

Mike looks him over for a few moments, "You certainly do not look like a typical blacksmith."

"What? You don't need a lot of muscle to bang hot iron. The heat does most of the work for you. You do need a lot of stamina though."

"I guess you're right about that. Me? I'm going to sign up with the Undaunted. I tried but didn't make the cut for the first ship."

"Well then best of luck to you. Never been a soldier, though I like to think I have a warrior's heart."

Mike chuckles a moment at that, "With what you've been through, even as little as you told me, I can see that." Mike pauses a moment, "Me and a couple of friends are getting together tonight. A little celebration for our last day in zero grav. Join us?"

"Sure, why not? It's been a while since I've been invited to anything. Can't be a hermit all my life."

In the morning, he felt like hell. His head was throbbing with a hangover, and he groaned at the sound of the alarm clock reminding him he had another shift to get...

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The original was posted on /r/hfy by /u/TheMaskedOne2807 on 2024-11-01 14:45:12+00:00.

Book 1: (Desperate to save his son Kenneth, a calm and nonviolent doctor accepts a deal offered to him by a strange creature. However, the price he must pay is to abandon everything he holds dear: his wife, children, and world as he attempts to share his knowledge of healing and medicine in a world entrenched by violence. Yet, in such a place, how long can his nonviolent nature remain if he wishes to survive?)

***

“-LP!”

With a heavy and dull thud, Kenneth hit the ground.

Heart racing, gasping, and lying on the ground, all he was met with as he desperately and disorientedly looked around was white.

Nothing but white as far as the eye could see.

The only thing convincing him he wasn’t floating in some sort of void or was dead was the reassuring and familiar feeling of the hard floor he was currently on.

‘What the...! Was I just eaten?!’ Kenneth internally questioned as he quickly got on his feet and began walking.

‘Okay, think. This... has to be a dream, right?! Kenneth thought to himself, the words somewhat drowning the continuous thumping of his beating heart. ‘Yes! Yes! This is just Ja--!’

Suddenly, he stumped his foot against the white void.

‘What the--?! I... I felt that. Nervously, he inspected what lied ahead of him, feeling a hard, cold, and smooth surface. He knocked on it a time or two, hearing only a dull thud, ‘...Is this a wall?’

His question was soon answered as his hand traced a bit more to the right, and he felt a change in the flat surface. It suddenly bent at an angle as if that point was where the walls met.  

‘Is this a room? Kenneth wondered as he began walking, his hand tracing along the wall slightly, changing his direction when the wall would bend at an angle.

While walking, he tried to make sense of the situation. ‘Okay, think. Why did this happen? All I did was touch the tower. Hundreds, if not thousands, have done so as well, so why did this happen to me? I mean, Trafka hit the damn thing with a hammer, and it remained as solid as stone.’

As he continued walking for some time, he began to feel unwell, gaining a headache and a bit of nausea.

Being a doctor, any multitude of potential ailments and diseases popped into his head, but real life was far from being an episode of “House”, and the most probable cause was the most likely reason.   

He popped off one of his shoes and began to walk again with his hand sliding along the wall. Keeping a keen eye on it, it quickly became apparent he was trapped in a hexagon-shaped white room. 

Putting his shoe back on, Kenneth thought, ‘So I’m in the tower... well, that should have been obvious from the get-go, but still... this is surreal... am I really awake? I mean, if I’m really inside the tower, the walls can’t be more than one or two meters thick. That’s impossible. The base should have crumbled under its own weight.

‘But then again, the tower should have fallen long ago due to winds, but it hasn’t for... well, who knows how long... dammit it, this is giving me a headache...’

Scratching the back of  his head, Kenneth wasn’t sure what to make of it all, and as a looming sense of dread began to rear its ugly head, he remembered something Ikkie said, “once the tower took its vengeance, all that was left of him was his spear.”

‘Wait, was that what happened to him? Kenneth wondered. ‘But he attacked and damaged the tower... all I did was touch it... would that be enough to provoke it?’

Kenneth had a mountain of questions, but he had no answers.

The sad reality was he was stuck inside the tower. Even if he called for help and those outside could hear him, there wasn’t any way for them to get him out; the weaponry at the base proved that fact.

Sighing, Kenneth crossed his arms and leaned his back against the wall. He expected to feel a gentle bump; instead, he felt a falling sensation and reflexively backpedalled to avoid falling.  

However, it did little to change the outcome, not from lack of balance but by the sudden appearance, right before his eyes, of a giant white Nok with its maw open.

‘What the hell?!’ Kenneth thought, his heart once again racing at full throttle as he hit the ground and scooted away until his back slammed against a wall.

Trapped, Kenneth stopped, taking a moment to calm himself after the sudden shock as he realized it wasn’t a Nok the had suddenly appeared right in front of him, but a statue of one that missed it’s lower body and briefly rippled.

‘Okay, what the actual fuck?! Kenneth screamed in his head. ‘Did I just pass through the wall... again! And...! And...! And what the hell with a statue all of a suddennnnn...!’

His thought’s coming to a halt; Kenneth was completely and utterly shocked to see that the statue before him wasn’t the only one of its kind.

Beside it and beside him was a multitude of others, not just Nok but Sil as well, all in different poses and positions with different parts of their bodies missing.

Some, like the one before him, protruded from the wall, others sprouted from the floor like plants, and lastly, there were those that simply hung from the ceiling like chandeliers.

‘This officially went from creepy to terrifying,’ Kenneth thought as his gut turned to ice.

Getting to his feet, he scanned his new surroundings.  

No longer was he stuck in a hexagon-shaped room, as he now found himself in a corridor stretching as far as the eye could see in both directions, with no end in sight of statues and sculpted body parts.

Strangely, there was a lack of Aki statues for some reason.

‘Okay, screw this! I need to find a way out!’ Kenneth thought as he picked a direction and hurriedly walked down it.

His steps echoed while a sensation of dread continuously loomed over him like the lower body of a Sil ahead of him; he ducked under while getting a look underneath, noticing a distinctive cavity of sorts in the centre.

 He was used to eyes lingering on him, but the statues, those that head heads, were different. He had the irrational fear one of them would suddenly come to life and grab him.

‘What am I even thinking? That sort of stuff only happens in horror movies,’ Kenneth thought, ignoring the irrational fear and focusing on the path ahead.

Though it certainly didn’t help that each and every one of the statues was so... meticulously crafted, so detailed, so... life-like.  

Weaving his way through the statues all around him, Kenneth began occupying his attention with questions he knew probably wouldn’t be answered, ‘Why could I suddenly pass through that wall like with the outside of the tower?

‘I mean, I touched it before, but it was solid, and it wasn’t even because I just touched it with my back; I hit another wall with it right after I fell, and it stayed solid. Maybe it’s only certain walls I can do it with, or maybe there’s no rhyme or reason... it just happens when it happens?’

Letting out a sigh, Kenneth took a wide step over a slim sideways-lying Nok on the floor but failed to see the tip of its tail poking up a bit ahead, making him stumble.

Grabbing onto the nearest thing, Kenneth steadied himself, but as he looked at what he was holding onto, he was a bit surprised to see it was a statue of an Aki, most of its body fully rendered in stone or whatever the material comprised the walls within the tower was.

He looked at it for a bit, feeling a strange sense of Deja Vu, ‘Now, why is this the only Aki? There are so many Nok and Sil, but only one Aki. Will I find more if I go further, ahea...?’

Suddenly, his thoughts came to a halt once more as he spotted something moving out of the corner of his eye.

He quickly turned his head to make sure it wasn’t just a figment of his imagination, and past the sea of statues and sculpted body parts, he spotted a contrasting black figure.  

It was too far away, and there was too much in his line of sight to get a proper look, but he was sure it was there.

He straightened his back and slowly began walking toward whatever the distant figure was, all the while feeling twitches of hesitation pulse throughout his body.  

‘Should I just walk up to whoever that is and say hi? Kenneth asked himself. ‘Well, it’s not like I've got a lot of other choices. I just have to hope whoever or whatever that figure is is potentially friendly.’

Taking a deep breath, he decided to call out to the figure, “Hey you ther--!”

“ARRRGGG!” Suddenly, from out of nowhere, a torturous pain erupted, emanating from Kenneth's skull. It felt as though it was being ripped open from the inside out.

He grabbed his head with his right hand and looked to see the figure in the distance was gone.

“Wai-- ARRRGG!!!” The pain intensified, and he could barely contain his screams of agony as he staggered forward and lost his footing, hitting his head against one of the statues, but compared to the pain he felt, it was little more than a bug bite as he writhed on hands and knees screaming.

Yet unbeknownst to him, his screams outside of his mask were silent like the sea when it was dead calm.

He was barely able to keep his eyes open, and what little he was able to see was blurred by tears welling up, but even so, Kenneth managed to glimpse something while he was looking down. The floor that once had been as pure white as ivory was now darkening, becoming brown and green.

Yet Kenneth barely noticed this, the intolerable pain overshadowing any other thought.

But as suddenly as the pain in his head had appeared, it suddenly went away, leaving ...

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As satisfying as Naru's fear of me is, there's a part of me that recoils from it. It's a well-deserved reversal of our first meeting, but our first meeting was me punching him in the face after he was particularly crass about Tarin being in a coma; there's a difference between that and... whatever this is. It's like he thinks I'm going to tear him apart just for touching me with his Firmament, and that I don't particularly like.

Not that I'd prefer his usual reaction, either. I haven't forgotten the way he talked to me about his own parents. Or the way he treated Mari in that fight.

"You're the Trialgoer," he says, recovering. That conclusion's probably easy enough to reach now that I'm stronger—only a Trialgoer would be able to reach the third layer, and he already knows all of Hestia's Trialgoers. Naru's eyes dart left, then right, as if assuring himself that there's a means of escape. "This is your fault, isn't it?"

"I have no idea what you're talking about," I say. Which is a lie, mostly; I'm pretty sure he's talking about how the Integrators have been cut off from the Interface. I just want to figure out what he's doing here before I say anything else.

"Ethan!" Tarin pokes his head out of his hut. "You finally here! Why you die so much?"

I blink, then let out a snort of laughter—so much for intimidating Naru. The old crow is acting like his son isn't even there, and the way Naru glares at his father in protest almost makes me feel bad for him. "Now you come out of your hut?" he demands. "When the Trialgoer shows up?"

"He earn it," Tarin says dismissively. It almost makes me wince, the way he says it. Naru flinches at the words, then scowls, turning his attention to me instead.

"So you've been dying a lot, have you?" Naru asks, the words a half-sneer. "You might as well give up on your Trial—"

Tarin baps him in the side of the head with a wing, making him sputter in protest. "You quiet. I need talk to Ethan."

The old crow turns back to me. "You die too much! This idiot keep visiting and you die before he finish talking."

Tarin's as blunt as ever, although his words have a way of diffusing the tension. It probably helps that with me here, Naru seems almost afraid to act. "That'll happen sometimes," I tell him. "I was fighting something powerful. I beat it, though. We should be done for a while."

Unless the next stage of the Ritual tries to kill me right off the bat, anyway. Even then, it's another eight hours until the dungeon opens again; there should be plenty of time to deal with whatever Naru wants.

"Good training?" Tarin asks. I hum, glancing at the Mastery tab of the Interface.

[Mastery: Causal Shattering | 1 of 3]

Gain improved control of temporal distortions created by Causal Shattering. You may manually target one part of your target's timestream.

"Good training," I agree. The skill credits weren't bad either. "Sorry for all the resets."

"As long as it good training," Tarin says. He sizes me up for a moment, then nods. "Good. You grow a lot. No wonder Naru scared."

"I'm right here," Naru growls. "And I'm not scared." He takes a few steps forward, pouring Firmament into his arm to reinforce it; it feels more like a threat display than anything, like he's trying to make himself look bigger than he really is.

"I asked you a question, Trialgoer."

Premonition doesn't activate.

"And I told you I have no idea what you're talking about," I say, raising an eyebrow. "You're going to have to be more specific."

Naru lets out a strangled noise. "The Interface," he says, struggling to keep his temper in check. "I can't contact the Integrators. And I can't—"

He snaps his beak shut before he finishes what he's saying. I frown slightly. There's something he doesn't want me to know, then?

I bet I can figure it out. I watch Naru silently for a moment. His breathing is a little frantic, and unlike most of my encounters with Hestian Trialgoers, he doesn't seem prepared to bring up his Interface.

Now that I think about it, I remember a notification that mentioned the Interface reverting to baseline programming; something about all the damage that was done to the Intermediaries.

That has implications, doesn't it? I don't know what 'baseline programming' is, but more likely than not, it means that the Interface doesn't have any of the features the Integrators programmed into it.

Features like contacting the Integrators, yes, but more than that. Trial-specific features. The things that give their Trialgoers an advantage in the Trials. In the context of this Trial, that means...

Have the Hestian Trialgoers lost access to their loop-specific privileges?

Being able to tell what loop I'm in, for instance. Or that ability they have to make notes for themselves so they can reference it at the start of each loop.  It'd explain why Naru seems so uncertain—without that information, there's no way for him to know how much I might have grown through the loops. No way for him to know what I might have done.

"Can't check your notes?" I ask. Just to test the waters. Naru tries to control his reaction, but he flinches, and it's enough.

"None of your business." He says the words through a gritted beak.

I shake my head. "The Integrators brought it on themselves. All I did was fight back." I pause in a pointed sort of way—I remember very well how insistent he was that fighting against the Integrators was impossible. "You're welcome."

"Welcome?" Naru nearly explodes. His feathers puff up all at once, and I feel his Firmament surging within him. Premonition still doesn't activate, but he looks like he's only seconds away from throwing a punch. "Do you know what this means? The Integrators are the only reason Hestia is still here!"

...This is new.

Now that I look a little closer at him, he seems... frazzled. It's been a while since I last met him in the loops—I remember being pissed at him because of the way he treated Tarin and Mari, and in particular because of his cavalier attitude toward Tarin's coma.

I remember his argument with Mari. His insistence that fighting the Integrators was pointless. His pride in the power he'd gained, even at the cost of his own home. Mari mentioned something about him killing the other crows in the village—not on purpose, but because he couldn't control the amount of power he wielded.

Rather than learning to control it, he'd chosen to leave. To use his power to assert himself in one of the Great Cities, as the other Trialgoers did. It's a huge part of his estrangement from his family.

But now the Integrators are gone. He's staked his pride on them, in a manner of speaking—his entire philosophy has been that it isn't worth fighting them. That it isn't possible to fight them.

He's shaken, I realize. On some level, he's afraid, and not just of me.

"Why did you come here, Naru?" I repeat my question. Naru looks at me—really looks at me—and something in him seems to deflate.

"I don't know."

There's silence in the village for a moment. Most of the other crows are desperately curious about what's going on. I see them casting fearful looks at Naru, peeking out of their huts or around a corner. They're all otherwise keeping their distance, though; the village as a whole is quieter than it usually is, like the whole place is holding its breath.

I wonder who he killed. I wonder how it happened. I never asked, now that I think about it; I'd accepted Tarin and Mari's words at face value.

Did he just come here because he was afraid? Because when everything he believed in began falling apart, he grew desperate enough to just... run back to his parents?

I wasn't particularly expecting to feel sympathy for Naru. Time loops make anything possible, I suppose.

"You were yelling at Tarin when I arrived," I say.

"He wouldn't talk to me." Naru clenches a fist in frustration. Come to think of it, the fact that he's got hands instead of wings has to be one of the physical upgrades from the Interface. "He just kept telling me to wait! But he's fine talking to you, apparently."

"Because Ethan Trialgoer." Tarin says the words as if they're obvious. "I try talk to you before. But loop keep resetting. It annoying. Wait for Ethan better."

Whoops. I hadn't particularly considered how my repeated deaths might impact Tarin, but then I hadn't expected Naru to suddenly show up, either. The Hestian Trialgoer grits his beak again in response, sputtering for a moment before falling silent; he doesn't seem to know what to say. "How do you two even know each other?" he eventually manages.

"Tarin helped me in the Trial for a while," I say.

"You?" Naru almost seems at a loss before he whirls around to Tarin. "You helped the Trialgoer?"

"He fighting Integrators. Of course I help."

"You didn't help—" Naru cuts himself off again as he speaks, forcing himself to take a deep breath. "What did you do?" he asks, turning to me. His voice is almost pleading.

"Stopped the Integrators from destroying Isthanok," I tell him honestly. "And most of the other Great Cities, too, probably."

Naru stares at me. "You're lying."

"He not lying." Tarin sounds exasperated, like he's had this conversation with Naru before. "He save village too."

Naru turns to stare at his father. "Save... what do you mean, he saved a village? This...

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*******

Sector 7-G hummed with the sound of advanced machinery as engineers, technicians, and high-ranking officials spoke in hushed whispers.

A whole host of prominent individuals within the United States Government were present, and each of them looked nervous and excited. Some knew of the details of what they would be shown, while others were left in the dark and stood there unsure of what to expect.

However, regardless of what they knew, the fact that Yzael was taking part in this little meeting spoke volumes about how important it was.

Feeling the eyes glued to her, Yzael cleared her throat, moved with grace and poise that befitted her people, and greeted each dignitary and shook their hands one by one. The High Elf was no stranger to these kinds of meetings. It was a rough start at first; these strange humans had equally strange customs, and decorum caused her to commit a few gaffs, but she was always a fast learner when push came to shove.

“Hello, Mr. Secretary.” Yzael greeted with a slight bow as she grasped Secretary of Defense Mark Leigh’s hand. “Major General Elizabeth Harper.” She sidestepped and grasped the Pentagon’s Program Executive Officer’s hand.

As she made her way through the crowd, Yzael's eyes held a glint of mischief as she came across a familiar face– a woman with striking blue hair, short Sun-elf ears, and an eyepatch covering her left eye. “Madam Lysandra.” She smiled, grasping her hand.

They had already met some hours ago and played off they were seeing each other for the first time as she greeted her, Yzael couldn’t help but break out into a smile. It was an unusually expressive display for a High Elf, but seeing her former freelancer captain doing well still brought no end of joy.

"It's really good to see you again," the High Elf continued, her long ears wiggling slightly with excitement. The two would be showing off their abilities today, and Yzael couldn’t wait to fight along with Lysandra again, even though it was just for a demonstration.

Lysandra, less constrained by the muted emotions typical of High Elves, beamed at Yzael, but she still tried her best to maintain a professional demeanor. She was well aware of the important figures surrounding them and how little sway she had compared to her longer-eared friend.

"I'm delighted to see you’ve found a place in this new world," Lysandra replied with a very warm tone. "We need to sit down for some tea when possible."

Yzael's face became even more expressive as her eyes lit up and her hands clapped lightly together. For a moment, she seemed to forget where she was and who was in attendance. "Oh! Oh! Yes!" she nearly shouted as her voice went up an octave. I've found quite the lovely place with these little fluffy creatures!"

She began enthusiastically describing a cat cafe she had visited as her usually reserved demeanor completely vanished. "And the confections! Oh, the confections!” she said, completely oblivious to the stares and Lysandas side-eyeing the officials nervously. I couldn’t quite believe what they had in this world! They reminded me of what they served in the Rakthul Consortium of Guids in the southern islands!"

Lysandra's interest was visibly piqued, but her attention remained fixed on the group of very important-looking people who stood watching them with raised eyebrows. The stark contrast between Yzael's sudden burst of enthusiasm and the formal, tense atmosphere of the room made her even more uneasy. Some officials had even started whispering to each other as they exchanged glances. A mix of confusion and amusement clouded their faces as one older man, dressed in a crisp military uniform, spoke about how Yzael reminded him of his daughter in this very moment.

Gently grabbing and squeezing Yzael's arm, Lysandra tried to bring her friend's attention back to their surroundings in a subtle manner. "That sounds wonderful," she said softly with a hint of warning. "Perhaps we can discuss it more... later?"

Suddenly realizing her lapse in decorum, Yzael straightened up, and her ears flattened slightly in embarrassment. "Yes, of course," She cleared her throat as her voice returned to its usual calm timbre. "We have much to catch up on, but now is not the time."

She then turned slightly to acknowledge the watching officials with a polite nod. "My apologies for the outburst. Shall we proceed with the briefing?"

For the most part, the humans in attendance just chuckled good-naturedly in response, waving away as if it wasn’t a big deal. One of them, a distinguished-looking man with salt-and-pepper hair, spoke up. "Don’t worry about it, Yzael. I think you even lightened the air a bit." He replied, noticing that tension had visibly lessened. However, we should really carry on with why we're here."

A few acknowledgments were heard, and as the atmosphere shifted, personnel started to move. Everyone present knew they were about to delve into something extraordinary, and they were eager to see just what in the world had been so confidential that hardly anyone was clued in on what was happening.

It was show time, and Yzael caught a bit of nerves as she suddenly found herself at a loss of words. She had always been a poor speaker and was far more comfortable talking about the technicalities of a project, but now she found herself on stop muttering and stammering. "Well, um... I um..." Her eyes darted to the project manager, the very same man who had saved her from a public gaff earlier.

"Allow me to take it from here," The man with the salt and pepper beard said as he sensed Yzael's discomfort and smoothly stepped forward. He cleared his throat and introduced himself. "Ladies and gentlemen, I'm Liam Hawthorne from Anduril Industries. What we're about to present won't just be groundbreaking— it’ll completely dictate the rules for warfare from here on out." He spoke in a familiar and confident voice before looking over to a trailer with oddly shaped structures covered with a tan tarp.

Liam gestured towards the first of the tarp-covered structure, "Under this covering lies the culmination of our collaboration with Yzael. Her intimate knowledge of the very principles and building blocks of this new energy had been invaluable.” He spoke, pacing back and forth with one hand collapsed over his abdomen and the other gesturing with his other at the generals and officials. “What we once called 'magic' is becoming less unknowable and entering the realm of something tangible and malleable."

“Melvin, if you would please.” He nodded to a group of technicians working around the trailers. "Let's unveil our breakthrough."

The technicians immediately got to work and jumped on top of and all around the trailer to gently remove the covers designed to obscure the shape beneath it. The tarp itself was a complex, multi-layered affair structure with irregular patterns and textures that confused anyone who tried to make out what was undear near it. The design drew a lot of attention, but its main purpose was to confuse satellite imaging and prevent accurate analysis of what was underneath.

As the tarp was slowly and methodically removed, the group of officials leaned forward in anticipation as they laid their eyes on a structure nearly 12 feet tall. With a final yank, everyone was greeted with a strange metallic grey device with white surfaces that gleamed under the facility's harsh lights.

Sporting an imposing array of circular panels facing outwards, the device also had six enlarged fins arranged in a manner that made everyone’s head tilt in wonder. At first glance, one wanted to call the entire thing a radar, but each fin was mounted vertically vertically and placed between panels covered in a grid of small, highly sensitive sensors.

The top of the structure was equally complex, housing an arrangement of antennas and what appeared to be specialized receivers. Meanwhile, the base of device the was significantly more robust and sat on removable tripods while also featuring mounting lugs with a heavy-duty stabilization system. It was apparent that the array was designed to be modular enough to mount it onto a vehicle.

Liam stood up a bit straighter and lifted his chin slightly higher as he scanned the group silently, allowing them to take in what they saw and make their own decisions. One of his sales techniques was to create dramatic pauses to build a little tension. "Ladies and gentlemen,” he paused again before looking each official and general in the eye. I introduce you to Spectre, which is the very first in arcane detection, triangulation, and countermeasure technology."

He then gestured towards the imposing and futuristic construction. "Spectre represents a breakthrough in a brand new field.” Liam clasped his hands together as he continued to pace. “By leveraging Yzael’s profound knowledge in what we’re calling thaumatodynamics, we have fused it with cutting-edge defense manufacturing and artificial intelligence.”

"Spectre's functionality is threefold," Liam Continued. First and foremost, it's used for arcane detection and classification.” He raised his hand and held out his index finger. By utilizing sophisticated sensor matrices and advanced spectral analysis, it can detect ambient alternative energy fluctuations and identify them through machine learning."

He paused brief...

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