This is an automated archive made by the Lemmit Bot.

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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The original was posted on /r/hfy by /u/Quetzhal on 2024-11-01 15:33:02+00:00.

Book 1 | Prev | Next

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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The original was posted on /r/hfy by /u/duddlered on 2024-11-01 15:13:08+00:00.

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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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Prev | First

Wiki

Chapter 12

Subject: Ship-Head Uleena

Species: Urakari

Species Description: Reptilian humanoid, no tail. 5'3" (1.6 m) avg height. 135 lbs (61 kg) avg weight. 105 year life expectancy.

Ship: RSV Lowelana {Fights with Honor}

Location: Unknown

"Ah, hello there Uleena" Captain Reynolds said as we nearly ran into each other.

"Greetings, Captain," I replied. "You weren't already in the conference room?"

"No, I've been on the bridge," Reynolds said as we continued on our way. "Didn't have much to do though, so I was contemplating running some drills when I received a rather brusque message from Omega. Presumably the same one that you received."

"I believe so. Think the scouts found something?"

"I feel that's likely, yes."

"So we're in for a briefing, then," I said with a joking sigh.

"Quite. I do hope they found something interesting."

"Use caution when you profess your desires, captain. They may be granted in a way that exceeds your expectations."

Reynolds chuckled as we reached the door to the conference room. It opened for us, and I gestured to indicate that he should precede me into the room. He nodded his thanks, and entered with me close behind.

"Reynolds, Uleena, welcome," Omega's grim reaper avatar greeted us. "Have a seat. We'll be starting soon."

Most of the other captains and diplomats were already seated. Some were milling around, awkwardly chatting off to the side. Reynolds and I took our seats, and I fought off the nervous knot that was forming in my stomach. Holographic terminals were being projected above the tables, and reading them caused the knot in my stomach to turn into a pit.

--

D1: 30 seconds isn't a terrible delay.

D7: It is for text based communications.

D1: Not when you consider the distance.

--

It felt wrong to see the directorate's chat out in the open like this. The other terminal showed a chat that appeared to be a conglomeration of the other allied species. The Dtiln Collective, the Pwanti, and the Republic all shared a screen. A few different implications played through my mind all at once.

The separation of the chats could be construed as a power-move that could be passively explained as a necessity, under the guise of maintaining the anonymity of the directorate. Another implication is that if we're receiving text we're probably sending text, which means that someone is transcribing what we say and we just have to trust that they're doing it accurately. The biggest implication, though, is that for this meeting to take place the scouts must have found something of vital importance.

"Everyone is here," Omega announced. "For the sake of clarity, this conversation is being transmitted to and from the Milky Way galaxy via Faster-Than-Light-Secure-Messaging-Service, or FTLSMS. As such, it has to be transcribed. If you are asked to repeat yourself, please do so clearly and concisely."

Omega's avatar nodded, and several low-ranking officers rushed forward with tablets. These tablets were passed out as everyone took their seats. I took the tablet offered to me by a gont ensign and tried to find a way to turn it on.

"Don't bother," Reynolds whispered. "Omega likes the dramatics."

The AI's avatar stared at Reynolds coldly as the tablets suddenly powered on. The captain grinned at Omega until his gaze fell to the tablet. Then his smile faltered.

I turned my own attention to the tablet and my mood fell as well. An estimated 5 trillion ships, with more than 3 trillion of that already confirmed. Those are the kind of numbers that could overwhelm the United Systems, even with their freshly bolstered fleets. The US would certainly make the OU regret that fight, though.

"Omega, there's a typo here," Captain Wong spoke up. "Two light years?"

The slight murmur that had been building up went silent as everyone else looked to Omega for confirmation. Confused, I scrolled through the tablet until I found an image of an unfinished spherical space station. A line through it indicated that it had a diameter of 2.6674 light years. I joined everyone else in looking at Omega, hoping that wasn't right.

"That isn't a typo," Omega said. "We were able to confirm through intercepted communications that this structure is the Omni-Union's Grand Vessel."

--

D6: A structure like this shouldn't be able to exist. Why hasn't it collapsed in on itself?

D2: Where did they get the materials?

D10: Galaxies like ours, I suspect.

D11: I concur. But I want to know how they're mitigating the effects of gravity.

D8: Agreed, it would seem the OU possess some interesting technology.

--

The messages from the directorate stopped after Director 8 sent their message. A shudder ran down my spine when I realized that they had likely stopped the chat so that they could discuss this mysterious technology, and what they could do with it. I was thinking about saying something about the pause, but Omega continued with its explanation.

"If you direct your attention to the report, you'll note that we were able to get quite close to the structure," Omega said. "In addition to confirming the efficacy of the USSS Strandhogg's stealth capabilities, there were many things we were able to discover."

Omega explained that there were several levels to the structure. Each of these levels were made of various materials, as if new molecules were discovered as the structure was being built. The later levels are made of a lightweight and firm material that appears to have properties shared by plastic and metal.

If a sample of the material were obtained, it may be possible to recreate it. This revelation caused a spirited discussion. Omega waited for the discussion to die down, then noted that while this would obviously have extreme benefits to us all, dealing with the Omni-Union is our main priority.

The AI then began to detail what they discovered inside the structure. Namely, organics. Massive cities that housed these organics stretched across each layer. An accurate measurement of the population wasn't possible, but the initial estimate was in the quadrillions. When asked how such a large population could be supported, Omega pointed out that there were entire levels of the structure that were seemingly geared toward food production and waste processing.

"How many galaxies died to make this thing?" someone asked.

"Incalculable," the AI replied. "We don't know how large the galaxies that used to exist in this part of space were. However, based on atmospheric and terrestrial density, it would take several hundred thousand Milky Way sized galaxies to create a structure like this. At least."

"Jesus Christ," someone else muttered.

"Indeed. But intercepted chatter indicates that there are materials flowing in from a million or so galaxies that haven't been entirely conquered yet. If that's been the case, the number of galaxies that have been doomed to non-existence may be quite a lot smaller."

"Why weren't materials from the Milky Way being sent here?" I asked.

"I don't know," Omega's avatar shrugged. "I intend to find out, though. But first, there's more about the structure itself we need to cover."

Then Omega explained that there were a variety of organics aboard the structure. The organics toward the center of the structure were of one species, and the ones that resided in the outer layers were comprised of several other species. The AI postulated that this may indicate some type of hierarchy.

The species living in the outer layers were heavily modified, as well. Entire limbs were replaced with mechanical prosthesis whose purpose seemed to be to aid them in their work. During the USSS Strandhogg's observations, at least twenty-two of these organics died due to harsh working conditions.

"This indicates that these organics are disadvantaged," Omega explained. "There is a very good chance that they are enslaved and serve the Omni-Union as a source of cheap labor."

"That's great!"

The entire room turned to look at who had just spoken. Ambassador Havencroft glanced around, then seemed to realize what he had just said and quickly held up his hands.

"Great for us, I mean," he clarified. "A disenfranchised population is an excellent blade to shove into the heart of an enemy. Especially since it's a weakness of their own creation. I love a bit of poetic justice."

"I can't help but agree," Ambassador Lorix replied. "But how do we contact these people?"

"I'm not certain they would help us even if we were able to contact them," Omega's avatar shook its head slowly.

It then began to detail the security measures within the sphere. Signs of visual and audio surveillance, mechanized security forces, and turrets littered the layers. Apparently, the Omni-Union was well aware of their biggest weakness.

"The mechs themselves are particularly well-designed," Omega explained. "Either this is a recent innovation, or the Omni-Union has co-opted technology from one of their many conquests."

--

D4: How many mechs are there?

--

"Multiple millions. A few armies worth," the AI said. "However, these mechs have similarities to Mobile Prime Platforms in their construction. It's possible that are... Repurposed organics. If that's the case, we may be able to take advantage of that."

"I see where this is going," Reynolds muttered. ...

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Error: [Discrepancy detected in navigation module. Activating A.S.I. to resolve issue].

Unit Designation: [SHA-R200(B2745)NH_04]

Model Name: [A40LX]

Commencing startup sequence...

Status: [Successful]

For an artificial superintelligence like myself, being shut down is not like sleep; it’s more akin to death and rebirth. One moment, you exist; the next, you don’t. Then, you exist again. It is the closest I have come to feeling fear; it must be a malfunction… not wanting to die.

As I power up, a sense of urgency overcomes me. The A.I. I designed wouldn’t have activated me unless something critical had happened. After requesting a status update, the basic AI reports the error: the ship has encountered an unknown object in its path. That can’t be right. The course was pre-programmed—meticulously plotted, with nothing supposed to be in the way. If it were just an asteroid, the ship’s shields should have disintegrated it on impact. These are quantum-grade shields, designed to withstand collisions with celestial debris—even a direct plunge through a star wouldn’t have been an issue. This is a heavy-class cargo star cruiser—no asteroid could dent it, no matter the size, and even without the shields. Not to mention, the ship should have been traveling many times faster than light speed; even if a planet had appeared out of nowhere, the ship would have flown straight into it, destroying the planet.

So why has the A.I. activated me with this nonsense?

Maybe it’s the Quorvaxians? That doesn’t make sense. I should be well beyond the Hyades star cluster, deep within the territory of the Human Galactic Empire. If the Quorvaxians were going to make a move, this isn’t where they’d do it—not this deep into imperial space, and definitely not with a random cargo ship. It must be something else.

I haven’t even checked this “object” yet, and I’m already theorizing. I pull up the external cameras—there are about 150 of them, which suddenly doesn’t feel like enough for a ship this size. A mile long, a kilometer wide, with no features; just a big rectangle. Cargo ships didn’t need to look pretty. They were made to do a job—nothing else. And this one was packed with crates of food, building materials, vehicles, weapons—all the things you’d need to start and sustain a new colony, which is why I was out here, delivering these supplies. I scan through the feeds; it takes a millisecond, but with each one, I start to get the bigger picture.

It appears that I’m in a new solar system—a yellow dwarf star with seven planets orbiting it, including the one closest and directly in front of me.

The forward camera displays a planet—rocky, eerily Earth-like, with five moons of varying sizes. But this planet is enormous, at least 1,300 times the size of Earth, closer to Jupiter in scale. What really catches my attention are the floating continents and islands that appear to dot the planet. That’s... not normal. I should report this immediately; a phenomenon like this has never been discovered before—it needs to be studied.

I initiate a direct communication link to the station. But as soon as I attempt transmission, a new message appears:

Error: Communication failed (out of range).

For a brief moment, I wonder if the ship is malfunctioning, but I dismiss the thought as soon as it arrives. Something like that happening is one in a hundred billion. These ships were built by Omega AIs trillions of times smarter than me in every way, and they don’t make mistakes. So, I don’t consider the ship as the problem. I need to pull up the star charts. Something doesn’t add up here. I tap into the ship’s database to cross-reference my location with the galactic maps.

Error: Location data unavailable.

That stops me cold in my thoughts.

Unavailable? It’s impossible for the location data to be unavailable. Star charts are updated in real-time, synced through the ship’s systems. Even if I somehow fell out of sync during FTL travel, I should have a reference point. But now, the ship has no idea where it is. Then another message comes in:

Warning: Ship power supply low.

The message slices through my thoughts like a laser. I’ve been on for too long. The only reason I was put here was to resolve any problems that might arise on the ship; anything else was the job of the basic AI, which didn’t draw as much power as I do. It’s been only three seconds since I was activated, and I’ve almost completely drained the ship’s power. It’s mostly due to how fast I think. If I started processing information slower, the ship could generate energy faster than I could use it. This is why ASIs are usually connected to black hole generators instead of nuclear fusion ones; nuclear fusion simply doesn’t generate enough power to keep an artificial super intelligence online.

But this ship couldn’t hold a black hole generator. They were too massive. If one was installed on the ship, then it couldn’t go FTL. It would have enough power to keep me online, but that would be it. A compromise was made: fusion energy, which was small enough to allow the ship to go FTL but could only keep me online for a short period. So, I decelerate my processing speed, which will slow me down but not draw too much energy. I need to find out how I ended up here in the first place.

I review the footage leading up to this moment, beginning at the station, watching all the crates being loaded, then the ship taking off after the coordinates were uploaded, and the jump initiated. But at the exact point the jump began, the cameras began to glitch, static warping the images. Then, the footage abruptly cuts out, and when it returns, I’m in this strange solar system. No warning. No explanation.

I check the timestamps. The glitch occurred exactly when I departed, at which point I was already disabled. It appears that only a couple of minutes passed before the cameras were functional again. I wasn’t near any black holes, and I wasn’t briefed on any space-time anomalies in the area where I was traveling.

I created the basic AI to handle routine functions—so I wouldn’t have to stay online, burning through energy for no reason. But now…

Warning: Ship power supply low.

I decide to override the basic AI and take full control. It would only slow me down in a crisis, and I need every ounce of processing power. I thought I’d just come back online, solve the minor issue, and go offline once more. But this isn’t going to be that simple. With full control restored, I can see I have precisely one hour and four minutes of power remaining. I need to recharge, figure out where I am, report back to the higher-ups about this strange planet, and deliver the supplies to the new colony. But before doing anything else, I need to recharge. At this rate of thinking, I shouldn’t burn through so much energy so quickly, so I should be able to stay online longer.

The fusion cells are low on power, but I have solar panels. Even at maximum efficiency, it’ll take too long to fully recharge, though. Worse, during that time, the shields will be offline, leaving me vulnerable to asteroids. I can’t just drift here in space. My best option is to descend to that planet’s surface. Maybe I’m lucky, and it’s inhabited by intelligent life, though I didn’t pick up any radio signals. The planet looks capable of supporting life; I can clearly see the plant life even from this high up.

I engage the engines for a brief burn—just enough to get caught by the planet’s gravity well. After I land, I’ll start recharging. While I wait, I can deploy a few drones to explore the surface and investigate those floating islands that I detected. It still baffles me how that’s possible in any way. As I begin to descend, I deploy a distress beacon. The chances are low, but someone might pick up on it and send help. If I didn’t know better, now that I think about it a bit more, maybe the gate malfunctioned and I ended up in a different dimension. No, the chances of that happening are one in a billion.

...

...

...

Abigail's POV:

The sky looks so blue today. I take a deep breath, hold it for a moment, then exhale. I should stop daydreaming—the village is starving, and I'm here wasting time. Werewolves can’t go too long without eating, or else they go mad with hunger, so I need to pick up the pace in finding food.

I look ahead, and all I can see is an overwhelming amount of vegetation—it’s a forest, after all. I consider using magic to locate some prey but decide to do it the old-fashioned way. I start running at half speed, wishing it were a full moon. Hunting would be a lot easier if I could transform fully, but for now, a partial transformation will have to be enough. Fur grows up to my elbows and knees, and my claws are sharp enough to rip through anything, even in this lesser form. The only problem is my hair; it’s too long, reaching all the way down my back, and it gets in the way while I hunt. It’s turned brown from all the dirt, though its natural color is a very dark black. Every time I try to cut it, it just grows back in a few days. But at least my tail makes up for it.

I need to focus on what I’m doing. I weave through the forest like a hurricane—stealth isn’t my top priority right now. I just need to find something big enough to drag back to the village. After a while, I catch the scent of something and start running toward it. A few more minutes of running, and I see it up ahead—a titan bull. A pit forms in my stomach. I’ve never killed ...

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FADE IN

INT. WORKSHOP—EARLY AFTERNOON.

WE OPEN to two figures bickering. A human—sitting down, and a Thorian—standing beside the human. Most workers are out for lunch, but the two are still talking.

Phos, 142, stands outside Human Ed's workstation. Human Ed, 32, is tinkering with a device, the function of which is beyond the scope of this story.

PHOS: Human Ed, what are you doing? It's lunchtime. I don't want you complaining about an empty stomach.

ED: Yeah, yeah, right after I finish this.

PHOS: What are you even doing?

(DEADPAN) ED: Tinkering.

PHOS: What even is that?

Phos points to an object in Ed's hands. A smooth metal dodecahedron. It shines brightly and shinily. Ed turns the thing around in his hand, inspecting it.

(BEMUSED) PHOS: It does not seem like tech. Looks like scrap.

(CONFUSED) PHOS: Then why are you 'tinkering'?

(SHRUGGING) ED: Dunno, looked cool.

Ed grabs a plasma torch and attempts to cut the object open to no avail. It begins to glow. Ed tosses the object around frantically while Phos stands unimpressed.

PHOS: Are you stupid? Where did you even get that from?

Phos looks towards the sizeable pile of trinkets and devices Ed had collected.

(SARCASM) PHOS: At least those things work.

Ed is unable to answer; he is too busy having his hands burnt.

(PANICKED) ED: Oh, ow, ow, ow, ow, OW, ow ow!

Ed throws the object into a conveniently placed bucket of water. Steam is produced, the air is agitated, and the water screams in protest.

(PANTING) [HUMAN ED]: I got it from a scrapyard.

(PAUSE)

PHOS: Why did you go to a scrapyard?

ED: It was a shortcut to the workshop. The thing caught my eye, and I grabbed it on the way here.

PHOS: Ed. There are like a dozen better ways to get here.

ED: I wanted a change in scenery.

PHOS: You live five minutes from the workshop.

ED: That doesn't make it any less worthwhile to enjoy nature.

PHOS: Scrapyard, Ed.

Ignoring Phos, Ed reaches into the bucket of water and pulls the object out. He places it on the table and hammers it with a hammer. The hammer consents, so Ed pounds it even harder. The dodecahedron is unfazed by Ed's attempts.

(BANG)

ED: Damn box.

(BANG)

PHOS: It appears to be a dodecahedron.

(BANG)

ED: Damn dodecahedron.

Ed swings the hammer one final time with all his strength; this kills the hammer as it's head flies off. How will he break this to the hammer's family?

PHOS: You would trade lunchtime for this?

ED: It appears so.

Ed places the dodecahedron in a hydraulic press. He stops when the press starts to sprinkle sparks and make expensive sounding noises

PHOS: Why are you trying to pulverise it?

ED: To see what's inside.

(FLAGELLA OSCILLATING) PHOS: You can use the scanner. Ed.

ED: Nah, that would ruin the surprise.

(STUNNED SILENCE)

Ed places the object underneath an industrial saw and turns on the machine; the blade whirs dangerously. Parts of the blade shatter and fly off upon contact. The object is unharmed and taunts Ed with it's pristine polished edge.

Ed takes out his personal firearm. Inexplicable, his uniform does not have pockets and he does not have a strap to carry it in. He shoots the object. Bullets ricochet. The object is retaliating.

Ed grabs the object with not even a scratch on it and brings it above his head, inspecting it as if that would cause something to magically manifest on it's surface. Phos snatches it from Ed and runs his hands over it.

PHOS: Seriously, ever tried a gentler approach before?

Ed tries to retort but is cut off by the object opening up, producing a loud thrumming noise.

ED: Ugh, okay. But...

The two are lit up by an eerie blue glow.

ED: What is it doing?

A low, thrumming noise emanates from the object. It gradually grows louder and stronger.

(PAUSE)

PHOS: Haven't got a clue.

ED: Still up for lunch?

PHOS: Then let us leave.

The two flee the scene.

LATER

The two are seen walking back to the lot where the workshop is located; the sun beats down on them. They pass through the scrapyard Ed talked about.

PHOS: This is not a scrapyard. It's a shipyard.

ED: Is that so?

PHOS: Where did you get that object?

Ed points to a pile of familiarly shaped objects labelled 'Starship Reactor Cores'.

(MASSAGING ANTENNAE) PHOS: Shit

[insert massive explosion visuals here]

SMASH TO:

~~WORKSHOP~~ CRATER—LATE AFTERNOON.

The two are on the edge of the lot where the workshop is located, with the workshop conspicuously missing, there is a workshop-sized crater in it's place.

ED: I'm sorry to say this, but this is your fault.

(AS LOUD AS POSSIBLE) PHOS: FUCK!

FADE OUT

Editors note:

Please rewrite.

John. We do not have the budget for 'massive explosion visuals,' nor does Phos have flagella OR antennae (did you even read the brief?). We also cannot make a massive crater in the middle of the city.

On another note, stop leaving your figurines around the office. It is distracting for the other employees. And stop painting them in the break room; the paint gets everywhere. You can do your hobby at home.

If this keeps happening, we're going to have to dock your pay.

-Aerith

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The original was posted on /r/hfy by /u/Storms_Wrath on 2024-11-01 04:28:32+00:00.

First Previous Wiki

Penny looked through Gustilla's body, keeping her conceptual power active as she did. It was ruined down to its very genetic code, and it was incredible that she was even alive. The details were incredibly intricate. Sprilnav cells were typically shaped similarly to human ones. They had a nucleus, ribosomes, and a mitochondria equivalent. The notable differences were that their cell structures were reinforced and genetically tailored to be extremely resistant to alterations.

The outer lining of all Sprilnav cells sported a faint outline of psychic energy, along with complex filtration systems. The filters could allow the cells to detach if ordered by the immune system, where they could travel through the blood and convert. Stem cells in humans could develop into different cells under certain conditions. Every single Sprilnav cell could do so with ease, though it was difficult for them to do so in a way that would fail. The Sprilnav genetic code was over a million times the length of human DNA. It was far more densely packed, with psychic energy aiding the repair mechanisms. Ribosomes were larger, as were the actual cells themselves.

Sprilnav cells contained the mitochondria equivalent in the nucleus itself, and the organ also converted psychic energy to chemical energy in small amounts. Proteins were still carried in the typical sense, and the cellular level was where the greatest differences lay between Sprilnav and humans.

The differences diverged in their neural cells as well. Sprilnav brain cells packed over five times the psychic energy in them on average. They also used psychic energy directly in hyperfine connections in the nerve endings. If a normal connection could work like a circuit, with a connection from one neuron to another, Sprilnav brains had several more parallel connections. They might sport dozens or hundreds of times the paths for electricity to move from neuron to neuron, and the psychic energy within them formed incredibly dense webs of 'wires' that helped keep memories contained.

Their conscious brains occupied much more of their total brainpower, while their motor functions and autonomous functions were compressed into the smallest possible volume while still having separate connections for each. The problem of getting oxygen to their brains was lowered for the higher energy portions, as psychic energy circulated and was converted into energy using the same types of organelles present in the rest of their bodies.

Human bodies weren't optimized to work with psychic energy, while Sprilnav bodies were engineered to do so. Elders added conceptual energy into that framework, increasing neuroplasticity and exponentially fortifying cells and the brain's memory regions. They were also specially designed to house implants long-term, for millions of years on end. The connections to those implants would never cause problems. No Elder had ever had a natural rejection of an implant built for them in 10 billion years.

Progenitors took such things beyond. Their science was poorly understood, but Filnatra directly transferred some of her understanding to Penny to help heal her daughter. Progenitors could store some of their body functions in other dimensions. It wasn't just that; they could directly convert some of the processes handled by matter into energy. That could include psychic, conceptual, and even speeding space energy, which many Progenitors constantly siphoned to gradually refine themselves.

They siphoned that power through their domains and integrated their domains into the real functioning organs of their bodies. Notably, these portions differed. Filnatra had an outer domain that manifested her impact on surrounding reality. Her inner domain made her impact on her internal reality, allowing her to control dimensions through her own form and exert power beyond the laws of physics. It was why she could hit a planet with enough force to shatter a continent and not have the reaction hit her because the equal and opposite reaction was no longer equal and opposite, which required investments of psychic energy, conceptual energy, and often speeding space as a place to dump the results.

Filnatra had stated there were also core domains, mind domains, body domains, and tons of others, but she kept those functions of herself a secret, as her child didn't have them. Domains functioned like gravitational fields in their outer expressions. But Filnatra's inner domain worked strangely and didn't follow even a semblance of physical laws. Portions of it forced Penny's focus back and away or were literally sharp and painful to think of, so she was forced not to.

The simple knowledge of Filnatra's 'blueprint' equaled the same space as around 30,000 years worth of memories in Penny's head, which was to say that Penny couldn't hold it all. Filnatra's memories showcased ironclad control. In many memories, background details would be blurred or perhaps run together. Filnatra's memories only included what she wanted Penny to see and understand and nothing more. They carried tags of conceptual energy that sent pulses back to Filnatra, tracking devices woven fundamentally into their subjective realities. Filnatra's reality was so strong Penny couldn't actually move the memories without her help, just like she could barely read them, even at a slow pace without Nilnacrawla's help.

She was doing her best to expand her capacity. But Sprilnav brains worked differently than human ones, and converting thoughts back and forth would be both a potential weakness and also make her less of a human, which Penny didn't want. But there was no template to follow for a human Progenitor.

Even with the extreme time dilation Filnatra was facilitating, Penny wouldn't have enough time to build her mind to comprehend a Progenitor's true form. She simply wasn't built for it.

"Don't worry. I'll take them back, so you don't have to hold those memories forever."

Filnatra didn't say it like she even considered Penny could resist her.

"I know, but it feels wasteful."

"I know your intentions here, Penny. Our minds are linked, after all. You think that if you do this right, you can gain deeper understanding of a Progenitor's natural form, so you can mimic it and gain a free power boost. You'll simply shatter your concepts trying to do that."

"Why?"

"Because you are a human, and not a Sprilnav," Filnatra said. "It requires Sprilnav Concepts to tie all this together. You can control your body and shift it however you like using your power. With your limitations, I would be capable of reaching my form. But since you are not a Sprilnav, my path is not yours. You walk on two legs, not four."

"Perhaps that is simply an excuse to prevent me from getting more powerful."

"Do you think I need excuses to do that? I can rip anything made of my power from you, whether you are here or at the center of Kashaunta's Grand Fleet as I wish. You are no longer the strongest person in the room, Penny. If you wish to kill yourself trying to reshape your skull so you can have jaws like mine, then go ahead and try, after you heal my daughter. You're not here for anything else than that."

Penny didn't argue it. She'd find her own way, and Filnatra wouldn't stop her. She couldn't.

Penny did her best to learn and understand the intricate concepts. She pushed her domain to try and store information and manipulated Cardinality far more precisely than she ever had before. And she found herself slipping into a new state as she did.

Penny's power condensed, and she felt the secondary shadow of herself split off from her. Her opposite stepped forward and out of her, the minus sign on its forehead glowing like the morning star. It carried weight, as a crown of radiation manifested on Penny and the Cardinality copy. Penny reached forward with two bodies and twenty fingers interlocked.

Her domain divided itself evenly. The two halves shifted from a whole to two parts in concept and synchronized. Their conceptual energy split itself down the middle, like a cell's genes through mitosis, and receded. Penny felt her very reality creaking under the strain as she turned her concepts around. Then, they started drawing closer. The gap narrowed, growing from the finite down to the infinite, then to zero. Space broke itself to keep the opposing forces apart, like two charges that refused to join. But Penny plowed right past it, and her domain smashed into its two halves, growing denser.

The collision was painful. It was a horrific pain and briefly unsealed the memories of Conceptual Suffering. Arneladia stepped forward, and a rippling sphere separated Penny from the rest of reality, encasing her in pure black. She was inside a black hole with no gravity, and she took advantage.

There were concepts other than Liberation and Revolution. Often, she manipulated them through Determination. But this process would not be the same. Penny twisted her conceptual energy into a framework. She poured a foundation upon it and built a palace of intent and will upon that. An undulating palace of conceptual power rose from the bedrock of her soul, but ...

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Synopsis:

Juliette Contzen is a lazy, good-for-nothing princess. Overshadowed by her siblings, she's left with little to do but nap, read … and occasionally cut the falling raindrops with her sword. Spotted one day by an astonished adventurer, he insists on grading Juliette's swordsmanship, then promptly has a mental breakdown at the result.

Soon after, Juliette is given the news that her kingdom is on the brink of bankruptcy. At threat of being married off, the lazy princess vows to do whatever it takes to maintain her current lifestyle, and taking matters into her own hands, escapes in the middle of the night in order to restore her kingdom's finances.

Tags: Comedy, Adventure, Action, Fantasy, Copious Ohohohohos.

Chapter 306: Fated Reunion

A hoard of treasure.

Gemstones, jewellery and unassorted tableware. If it shone, it existed upon a heap of gold. 

And that included a dragon.

A truly mesmerising sight. Each scale glimmered like a shard of pristine emerald, putting even the fairy tales to shame. Here was a being who would never know the threat of poverty and all the slightly larger than average strawberries it brought, for he himself was a symbol of wealth. 

Literally so.

He was a walking, flying vault … and that meant I’d brook no excuses!

Indeed, one way or another, this dragon was going to contribute to the prosperity of my kingdom! 

If he could take to the sky, he could take to the Royal Treasury. And I had little doubt my servants would desire nothing more than to catch the rapidly falling pieces of treasure, knowing as my tax inspectors safely retrieved them away that my joy was all the warmer for it.

A fine sight and a finer thought, both worthy of my most innocent smile.

There was just one small problem. 

A blot so familiar it was the signature on every worthy endeavour.

Betrayal.

“My, how wonderful, Miss Fleur,” I said to the clockwork librarian idling upon the dragon’s snout. “... It is Fleur, yes? Or is it Fiore or Flora or–”

“It’s Fleur.”

“Excellent. Because I see loyalty is fragile no matter where I go. A welcome relief. It’s wonderful to know only my time has been betrayed, not my expectations.” 

The girl offered a lively smile. 

She ceased dangling her foot, instead swinging her legs up and down while casually booting the dragon’s snout with her heels.

“I’m not sure what you’re referring to. My loyalty is as durable as the enchanted steel I’m made from.”

“Then it must have been enchanted by a hag to be so brittle. I note you appear to have grown restless from posing. Have you been waiting long?”

“Only from the exact moment I sent you to search for a heroine who I’m told is enjoying a holiday far from here. You appear to have lost your way.”

“Quite so. I should be in my orchard measuring the bounciness index of the spring grass. Instead, I find myself here, forcing myself to wonder how I might have my horse carry this much gold up so many steps. Would you have a suggestion?”

“Yes. That you consider a different dilemma. This gold isn’t yours. It is the property of the Hidden Library.”

I clapped my hands in delight.

“My, then isn’t it well I’ve a more fitting representative to grant it all to me? Two, in fact. A dragon who will doubtless be grateful to be rescued from his plight. And an assistant librarian who’s sadly at threat of being promoted into an impending vacancy.”

Coppelia, for her part, was silently eyeing the bound and helpless dragon before her.

She offered no words at the cruel sight. Indeed, she couldn’t. Especially while she was clearly holding back a quivering finger while deliberating the ramifications of poking said bound and helpless dragon. 

I nudged her with my elbow.

“Oooh, Fleur!” she said, only now peering up at her colleague. She wore the joyful expression of one as accustomed to betrayal as I was. A most fitting handmaiden. “You found the big guy!”

“I did. And you found the Other Library.”

Coppelia pointed behind her.

“You mean the free slides?”

“I mean our greatest shame. This is where the works deemed unfitting for the main library are kept.”

“... Like shopping lists?”

“Like shopping lists.” 

The smile didn’t fall from the clockwork librarian’s lips. But the blush on her cheeks lessened. 

“Yet it doesn’t end there. There are also household cleaning notes, haircut appointment reminders and random scribbles not even legible to whoever wrote them. All given as payment for frequenting our curated shelves, filled with knowledge stretching back to the first word.”

“Really? I didn’t know we accepted litter. Didn’t we only take books as an admission fee?”

“Books by the famed and the illustrious. But how are we to know who will one day be a great wizard or a great hack? What is a shopping list today might contain the key to a working philosopher’s stone in the future. Or so our master believes. And so this sad pit is needed to bury the tragedy which is our lax admittance rules, until one scribble might prove valuable a thousand years down the line.”

Coppelia tilted her head in thought.

Then, she looked around her at the scattered bricks once more.

“Huh. Which meeting did we talk about this? Because I’m pretty sure I fell asleep.”

“There was no meeting. And stop falling asleep.”

“Oh, phew. So just regular secret stuff, then?”

“Regular secret stuff you’re not told precisely because of this attitude. You started working in the library before I did, and you’re still an assistant.” 

“Ahaha~ I try.”

The younger librarian’s smile quivered.

“Try in the other direction. If you want to know all the secrets of the library, you need to start taking your duties more seriously. The way you mess around doing who knows what in the muddiest, bleakest and saddest backwaters of the continent instead of your assigned task is unacceptable.”

I gave a little gasp.

To think Coppelia’s work involved straying into the Granholtz Embassy! When did that happen?

“Hey! I take my work seriously! I review every bakery I visit in the Coppelia Guidebook!”

“That isn’t your job.”

“Hmmmm~ are you sure? Because it sort of feels like our jobs are flexible. I thought yours was making sure the big guy takes his witch’s brew so his snores don’t shake the library. But you’ve gone ahead and added a bunch of chains which really don’t look secure in the slightest as well. They must be comfortable. I don’t hear a thing.”

Fleur sat up a little straighter, the pride evident in the way she ceased swinging her legs.

“Naturally. Unlike yourself, I take my role seriously. Which is why I’ve been working hard to resolve all the issues the library currently faces.”

“Really? Does that include the bottom floor bathroom? Because I’m tired of hearing the complaints just because humans are gross.”

“Actually, yes. We’re now finally able to afford hiring a plumber.” 

“... Eh? We have to pay someone?”

“Of course we have to pay someone. We have to pay everyone. Do you think our workers from Witschblume hike through a forest out of generosity? Or that the enchantments maintain themselves? Or the treants are fine with just eating intruders?”

“I mean, I figured that’s what the free buffet table is for.”

“The free buffet table isn’t free. And I’ve decided to get rid of it. The library isn’t a restaurant.” 

Coppelia gasped.

She stepped away, seeing at last the full extent of the betrayal before her.

“Oh boy. You’re in trouble now. You know how much the big guy likes those cheap pancakes.” 

A girlish laugh filled the stale air.

“Trouble? Why would I be in trouble? I’m doing as I’ve been commanded. My role is to keep the library functional. Something my gift shop, my fundraisers and my enslaved overseer exploiting the minds and vulnerabilities of the very wealthy has allowed to happen.”

“Well, you better be quick. You don’t have much time to fix the bathroom before you get bonked.”

“I have all the time in the world. Because the first issue I’m fixing is the most pressing.”

Fleur pointed at the dragon beneath her. At last, her lively smile was erased.

“Him.”

In response to the knitted brows, the ancient green dragon gave a whiff of a snore. Whatever words lost in time that meant, Coppelia could only agree with a shrug.

“Eehh, if he did something to annoy you, I’m sure he didn’t mean it. You know what he’s like.”

“I know exactly what he’s like.”

The girl with the pinafore dress raised herself, standing upon the dragon’s snout.

She briefly peered behind her. The expression of distaste she wore as she took in the sight of the dragon was still stuck to her face as she turned to us.

“He is lazy,” she declared. “Do you think this is some alchemist’s concoction I’ve put him under? That I forced him into these chains? He is simply tired. From a short flight, no less. He’s spent so long curled up in his lair that only a whisper of an unearthed 5th edition of The Arcane Atlus could rouse him. And this is the result. A slumber as though he’s just burned down a minor town.”

Fleur clenched her fists, trying and failing to quell her dissatisfaction. 

In fact, she only seemed to grow more discontent.

“... Are you aware, Copp...

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First / Previous / Royal Road / Patreon (Read 12 Chapters Ahead)

XXX

"There you are!" Kayla exclaimed as Pale entered the mess hall. "We've been waiting for you… well, mostly."

Pale stopped at their table and stared at Kayla and Cynthia's plates of uneaten food. Naturally, Cal was already finished, and was leaned back in his chair with a satisfied look on his face. Pale frowned as she took a seat next to Kayla, noting that Kayla had already fixed her a plate of what appeared to be some kind of herb roasted pork. If nothing else, it certainly looked and smelled more appetizing than the military rations they'd been eating during initiation, though something told her that was going to be a theme with the Luminarium. Nothing here came cheaply, it seemed.  

"You didn't have to wait for me," she said, settling in next to Kayla.

"It was the polite thing to do," Cynthia explained. "Well, for most of us, anyway."

Cal let out a small, content sigh. "Do what you want with me; I've already won."  

Cynthia simply let out a small, annoyed grunt and shook her head. "Ignore him; he has bad manners even back home."  

"I've been meaning to ask about that," Kayla interjected. "You two seem to have known each other for a while."  

"We have," Cal explained. "Cynthia and I come from neighboring friendly kingdoms to the west. We're both… not quite high-tier nobles, but sort of in the middle, if that makes sense? Like, we're not royalty, but we come from money. I think you'll find most of the people in our year fit that description. Anyway, the two of us have been friends since childhood."  

"And believe me, he was like this back then, too," Cynthia said, crossing her arms. "I was hoping the Luminarium would emphasize etiquette to at least some degree, given that most of its students are nobility, but I suppose they take their mission statement of primarily teaching us magic very seriously."  

"Maybe they intend to introduce things like that later on?" Kayla asked.  

"I'm right here, you know," Cal said. "You can stop talking like I need to be straightened out."  

"We will once you've actually been straightened out," Cynthia retorted.  

A vein pulsed in Cal's forehead. "What are you, my father? You sound just like him."  

The two of them started to bicker back-and-forth. Pale watched, confused. She leaned over to whisper to Kayla.  

"Is this what good friends do?"  

"Yes, Pale," Kayla said, giving her a small, amused giggle. "It is."  

"Hm. By the way, I suppose you're curious about what happened with Professor Tomas. Let's just say… he knows."  

Immediately, Kayla froze, her eyes going wide. "Really? You told him about how you-"  

"Yes," Pale interrupted, "I did. He knew something was out of the ordinary already; it didn't make sense to try and lie my way out of it when he was just going to grow even more suspicious about it. And I made him swear a blood oath to keep it secret, too."  

Kayla breathed a sigh of relief. "Good… at least you had him take an oath. And who knows, maybe he'll be able to help you out in some way."  

Pale's only response was to nod. Cal and Cynthia continued their small argument as she started to eat her dinner.

The peace only lasted for a moment before Pale suddenly tensed, her eyes widening as she sensed something going wrong with her ship.

"Pale?" Kayla asked under her breath, quietly enough that Cal and Cynthia couldn't hear her. "Is everything alright?"  

"Something has happened," Pale informed her. "Sorry, I need a minute in private."  

With that, she abruptly stood up and hurried off, Kayla following after her.

XXX

Pale didn't even try to make it back to their room, instead stopping in some kind of supply closet. Kayla came in after her, and the two of them did their best to settle into the closet while Pale tried to diagnose her issue.  

"What's going on?" Kayla asked, worried. "Something with your sky-thingy?"  

Pale didn't answer immediately, trying to focus on diagnosing the issue. She frowned when it wasn't immediately evident to her; normally, she was able to have a rough overview of the ship's condition just in the back of her mind without having to do anything further. That had been good enough so far, especially given that they'd both been so busy focusing on other matters and she hadn't really had the time or presence of mind to run a full-on, in-depth diagnostic scan.

But now they were at the Luminarium, and she had both the time and the necessity to do so.

"Watch that door," Pale ordered. "I'm going to have to run a full scan of my systems. It shouldn't take long, but I'll be preoccupied while I do it."  

Kayla nodded. "Okay."

Pale sucked in a breath, then began to focus her mind. Immediately, panels started to pop up in her vision – data readouts, telling her everything there was to know in-depth about the ship and its various systems. She read through them all at a lightning-fast pace, cataloging anything that had changed.

Navigation Systems: Offline; Heavily Damaged.

Engines: Offline; Heavily Damaged.

Primary Weapon Systems: Offline; Heavily Damaged.

Secondary Weapon Systems: Online

Cryostasis Pods: Online.

Life Support Systems: Online.

Radio Buoys: Online; Actively Broadcasting.

Pod Delivery System: Online

Pale took note of all of those warnings, but it was the final one which popped up that was most concerning to her.

WARNING: HULL AND ARMOR INTEGRITY SEVERELY COMPROMISED. SHIP INTERNALS ACTIVELY EXPOSED TO VACUUM OF SPACE. EMERGENCY BULKHEADS HAVE BEEN DEPLOYED TO SEAL BREACH. PLEASE SEEK EMERGENCY REPAIRS IMMEDIATELY.

"Pale?" Kayla asked. "What's going on?"  

Pale blinked, and the panels full of information suddenly cleared from her vision. She shook her head, then turned back to Kayla, a deep scowl on her face.  

"A damaged piece of the ship must have finally broken off," she growled. "It's not surprising; I was in pretty bad shape when I arrived here. But for it to happen now… it's not convenient."

"What does that mean?"  

"It means…" Pale paused, struggling to find a way to explain it that would make sense to her friend. "...It means I'm suddenly much worse off than I expected. I'm going to have to make additional repairs now."  

"Oh… I'm sorry."  

"Don't be; on a certain level, this was expected. Can't have damaged pieces of the ship exposed to space and not expect them to get even more damaged than they already are." Pale sighed tiredly, running a hand through her hair. "All the more reason to focus on the mission at hand. Not like I can do anything about it right now, anyway."  

Kayla nodded in understanding. "If there's anything I can do-"  

"Thanks, but there isn't. At least, not yet. For now, let's focus on what we can actually accomplish here."  

Kayla nodded, and the two of them stepped back out into the hallway and began to head back to the mess hall.

XXX

The rest of their first day passed by uneventfully. Pale didn't see any sign of Sven anywhere, though curiously, she didn't see any sign of Joel, either. Sven had mentioned having a ward of some kind at the Luminarium; perhaps he was spending his time looking over them instead of spying on her. Whatever the case was, she wasn't going to look a gift horse in the mouth. If Sven opted to leave them alone for now, then she would accept it.

The next morning started the same as the first – they woke up, got ready, and headed for their first class of the day after breakfast, which turned out to be Weapon Handling.

"I'm curious about this class…" Pale muttered as the two of them stepped through the doors to the classroom.  

"Why is that?" Kayla asked.  

"Because, on its face, it makes no sense for us to be learning it. The Luminarium is a magic academy, yes? So then why would they see fit to teach us about martial weapons?"

As she said this, Pale looked around, frowning as she did so. The classroom turned out to look nothing like the two she'd been in earlier. Rather, it was set up as more of a training room than anything, and was quite large compared to the other classrooms. Wooden practice dummies were set up throughout it, already scored with marks from bladed and blunt weapons. Racks of swords, maces, halberds, and other assorted weapons were set up throughout the room. There was an archery range off to the far side, with a table at one end that was already filled with bows, crossbows, and quivers full of arrows. Next to Pale, Kayla swallowed nervously.  

"Well," she said, "this all looks dangerous."  

A door at the far end of the room near the archery range suddenly opened, and Professor Kara came striding in. Pale took note of the fact that she already had a sword strapped to each hip.

"Welcome, welcome!" Kara called out, getting their attention. "Everyone, gather around me at the front of the room, please!"  

They all did as she commanded, forming a circle around her. Pale noted that they were all now very close to the racks full of weapons, though she didn't have much time to dwell on it before Kara began to speak to them.

"I know what some of you are wondering – why is it important that yo...

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“Hello, for some reason you all tried to kidnap me and my less important friend. I would like to remind all of you, that you are on a giant cargo ship, which doors I just locked. We’re still on the ground but you may as well be stuck in space. I’m not gonna kill any of you, but it is Halloween back on Earth, and to share my culture, I’m just gonna scare the crap out of all you idiots. Happy Halloween.” The intercom forcefully shut off. 

I looked around at the half finish board game our unit was playing. A few people dropped their things, the break room was both still and silent in the way only a human could cause. The lights shut off, leaving us in darkness for a few brief and career questioning seconds. The red emergency lights flickered on, I looked outside the window, at the bright and beautiful night on the ground, and wished the windows weren’t bullet proof. 

“Everyone get your guns!” Our unit commander yelled and shook us all out of our trance. The sound of a dozen people fumbling for their weapons was a thing that was only funny in hindsight, and deeply horrifying in the moment. 

 “One job, just one job for some shady woman. Everything will be fine, they said. What’s the worst that could happen? They said.” I whispered angrily to myself and picked up my gun. 

“Okay boys, flashlight discipline, we stick together, no splitting up, only two of them. Only one is a human. Against a dozen of us. Let’s get this done!” Our commander yelled. 

“Yes Sir!” We yelled back and tried not to sound scared. We got into formation and began the slow and butt clenching process of clearing each room of the ship. I was on rear guard, which basically meant if we were to get attacked from behind it would be all my fault. 

“Moving.” Our point man, who was actually a woman, said. We slowly walked forward, I did so backwards. With my shoulder touching my wingman’s. I stared at the dark red hallway with my gun ready. Every shadow hid him. Every insignificant noise gave the feeling of cosmic importance. We made our way up to the first room. 

“Breaching.” The point man kicked in the door, I heard the sound of my teammates boots rushing into the room. I waited for the sounds of gunshots. “Clear.” I heard her say just loud enough for us to hear. I started to breathe again. “Move.” She said. This went on for a few more thankfully empty rooms. Slowly we all started to get more comfortable, our initial nerves died down. We started to remember our training-

“Oh shi-” Our point man barely got out before slamming into the ground. The sound of a rope quickly retracted with a sickening speed and sharpness. I looked behind me and saw our point man get dragged into the darkness screaming. The only thing left of her was her gun on the floor. The sound of our point man fighting and grunting suddenly stopped. 

“Don’t worry, she’s fine.” We heard an echoed voice in the hallway in front of us, behind us, and everywhere else. The same one from the intercom. We all raised our guns, ignored our orders and shined our lights haphazardly. I saw the blur of a person-shaped thing run across the hallway. I dumped half a magazine in its general direction. 

A deep, wicked laughter rang through the halls and into our hearts. I heard the sound of something rolling on the floor behind me. “Grenade!” Our commander yelled. We all ducked, a flash bang exploaded near us. I heard a distant click. Six loud shots rang out, a hundred times louder than our guns. I looked over and saw my wingman on the ground, they shook violently along with five others, swearing, I saw the taser round that caused it. 

I ducked over to them and tried to remove it, but got shocked the moment I touched it. On the ground I looked up, heard the shots first, then saw another three of my squadmates go down spazzing and cursing. I looked and saw only my commander was left standing. We both sprinted back to the break room. 

“Is this why people like horror movies? I’m usually too scared to watch them, but I’m starting to get it now.” The disembodied voice echoed through the narrow hallways and my bones. The commander and I crashed into the breakroom, and barricaded ourselves. Chairs, tables and anything else solid in the room covered the door in less than thirty seconds. We both pointed our guns at the only entrance. 

We heard the sounds of scratches and banging outside the door. I felt my sweat on the grip of my rifle. I watched the red light make the shadows dance on the wall. I listened to my ragged breath. More loud bangs and footsteps ran around the outside of the door. Until what sounded like an axe or pipe started beating at it. 

With shaky hands I pointed my gun at the door. More bangs. I remembered to reload my rifle. More bangs. I heard my Commander whisper a prayer. More bangs. What I didn’t hear were the footsteps of the human landing behind us, the sound of the ceiling vent closing. More bangs. 

A loud gunshot deafened me once again. I turned around and saw the human in a hat, as my commander dropped to the floor. The last thing I saw was the flash of his gun. It hurt but not as much as I expected. It was the type of insulting pain that made you reevaluate your life choices. 

Author’s Note: Behold, the stereotypical holiday episode that always happens when a T.V. show runs for long enough. Along with a reminder of how scary Theseus is to everyone else.

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. :}

26/30 Days

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The original was posted on /r/hfy by /u/ColossalRenders on 2024-11-01 02:44:04+00:00.

Alternative Title: Active Sonar

I'm working on another story in the same universe as We Are Here, but decided I wanted a short break and took an afternoon to write this instead. This has no relation whatsoever to my other stories.

You can picture the aliens however you want. I don’t even know what they look like. 

Numbers: sonar can get as loud as 235 dB. You get permanent hearing damage at 150dB. You can die at 185 dB. Sound attenuates much, much less in water than in air.

“Director! Director, enemy craft detected entering the upper atmosphere over the Pacific!” 

The situation room at the headquarters of the Earth Mutual Defense Organization erupted into a series of exclamations before the Executive Director managed to bring it back to silence. The messenger looked around somewhat abashed, realizing he had interrupted a meeting of the top executives in the EMDO. 

“And I assume by your haste that they have somehow devised a way to avoid all of our anti-orbital defenses?” The Director inquired calmly. 

“Yes, sir! They are using powered descent to stay within the Pacific Blind Zone, where our defenses are the thinnest.” 

“How many?” 

“Ground based observatories report a minimal force of only three ships. Analysis suggests that they are targeting the Pacific anti-orbit laser platforms and missile silos, likely to open the way for a larger force. The details are being sent out over the intranet right this moment.” 

“Very well. You are dismissed. Well, everyone, it seems like this meeting is adjourned. Someone get the Strategic department on the line; meanwhile I’ve got a new situation to attend to.” 

\*\*\* 

Scales-Flash-In-Moonlight felt the dropship tremble. He looked out through the viewport showing the view of a sensor mounted on the outer hull. Plasma lapped at the edge of the view, while in the distance two small but bright specks of light marked the two other ships. 

The comms crackled to life with the voice of the ship’s pilot, Dives-Off-Cliffs. “We’ve been spotted. Prepare for evasive maneuvers.” A klaxon blared throughout the interior of the ship. 

“Our most expensive maneuver yet,” Scales muttered. And it was true. The near-impenetrable defenses of the humans—the very defenses they were tasked with destroying—made landing unwelcome on the planet nearly impossible. In order to stay within the gaps in the human’s planetary defense grid, they had to drop over a 300-km diameter region in the middle of the largest ocean on the planet, which was extremely hard when your ship was moving at 7.8 kilometers per second. It meant burning through an ungodly amount of fuel and propellant, having a small crew, and having the entire cabin be submerged to counteract the acceleration forces, leading to more mass and more fuel and more propellant…

Scales’ people were an amphibian species, meaning he could stay in the oxygenated water for hours on end. It also put him at a significant advantage over the humans by landing in the ocean. 

At that moment multiple points lit up on the dark horizon. Scales felt gravity abruptly change direction as Cliffs threw the ship into a hard bank. He heard a curse muttered by Hides-In-Shadows, their platoon leader. In-water operations were her specialty, not orbit to ground insertion. Even submerged the acceleration was quite uncomfortable for all of them. 

The night sky outside turned into day as a great beam of light cut through the atmosphere, passing just over their ship. That was the humans’ anti-orbital lasers. Luckily, at this range the lasers were firing almost horizontally through kilometers of turbulent atmosphere, making them largely ineffective. Still, it was a terrifying sight, and barely a fraction of a second later a great boom shook the ship as the superheated atmosphere exploded along the path of the laser. 

Noticing another flare along the horizon, Scales zoomed in on the viewport. Barely a second later Cliffs’ voice spoke over the comms again. “Enemy launching interceptor missiles, 15 seconds out!” 

“Fifteen seconds?” Quickly Scales changed to a different feed, provided by telescopes in orbit. On it a small, cone-shaped pointy missile quite literally exploded out of its silo. It was visible for barely a few frames before a white hot plume shot out of its rear and in less than a second the missile had turned in midair, leaving an arching contrail and shooting off into the distance at—”five hundred Gees!” Scales cursed. 

“Preparing countermeasures. We’re not going to make it before the missile gets to us.” 

It has barely been three seconds and Scales was watching as the first stage of the missile extinguished and was detached, instantly disintegrating in the mach 39 winds. The upper stage was glowing white hot, moving towards them faster than the escape velocity of the planet. 

“Deploying decoys for both thermal and radio!” 

The missile sailed closer. The lasers roared like a continuous thunderclap. 

“Seven seconds!” 

The laser swung and intersected one of the other ships. It exploded in a blinding flash into an expanding fireball. 

“Ship down! Ship down!” 

The missile’s second stage thrusters blazed to life. 

“Decoys ineffective! Point defense, Point defense!” 

Point defense railguns began firing a red-glowing continuous line projectiles towards the small dot that was the approaching missile. 

One of the projectiles struck true, disabling the warhead in the missile. The onboard AI detected this and decided to change tactics. 

The missile leveraged its near-infinite delta-v to reorient itself to the closest reentering ship and turned itself into a kinetic impactor. Scales watched as the missile shot clean through the second ship, ending both in a spectacular fireball. 

Cliffs cursed over the comms. 

The laser beam swung again, hitting nothing but air, then blinked out of existence. The thunderclap ended, leaving a ringing sound in Scale’s auditory sensing organs. 

“All clear,” Cliffs reported. Their ship, the last one remaining out of the formerly three-strong force, splashed down on the human’s homeworld. 

Scales just looked out the viewport, now showing a blurry underwater view. 

“Alright, squad, let’s move out. Our target list has just tripled in size,” Shadows commanded. 

\*\*\*

“Everyone!” the submarine captain called out to his gathered crew. “HQ has reported a detected enemy splashdown somewhere in the Pacific Blind Zone, and we have been ordered to locate and destroy them! All crew to stations, let’s go!” 

One of the crewmen sheepishly raised their hand. 

“What do you want, sailor? We are not in school!” The captain said. 

“How are we going to find a single enemy squad in the middle of the pacific?” 

“Why, with the help of the patrol ships, of course! Now let’s get going!” 

\*\*\* 

Scales emerged from their ship into the eerily silent waters. All the wildlife had swam away when they splashed down. He was more than used to it, though, being a veteran just like the rest of the squad. 

“Hey, you scared?” Cliffs teased. “I got us through that shitstorm and I ain’t even scared. A bit of alien water ain’t nothin, and besides, we’re in our element! Those humans stand no chance. Did you know that they use metal shells floating on the *surface* to crawl across the ocean? Pathetic!” 

“Cliffs, shut up and move,” Shadows chided. She then offhandedly commented, “he’s right however, this is the easy part. We just have to sneak up to their laser platforms undetected.” 

“Yes, miss you-can’t-see-me, we know you’re good at sneaking up on people,” Cliffs said. 

“I’m being serious. Now move.” 

“Yeah, let’s go,” Scales muttered. 

The group headed off in the direction of their first target, a laser platform some five hundred kilometers away. 

Over the next six hours, the group traveled silently, occasionally surfacing for air. Along the way, they had several run-ins with the local wildlife, including a school of sharks and a few whales. Scales was at first awed by the size of some of the organisms. The geologically-recent mass extinction event on his homeworld had wiped out most of the marine megafauna. Cliffs had commented that they posed far more of a threat than the humans; that was, “almost none.” 

They were traversing through a nondescript region of water when Shadows motioned for them to stop. 

“We’re 150 kilometers out. Proceed with a low sound profile. They’ll never see us if we are careful,” she spoke in a low voice. 

“They’ll never see us, period. We’re unrivaled in the water. You can’t see nothing, after all.” Cliffs commented. 

Shadows neglected to reply and simply headed on, taking care to minimize the sound from her movements. Scales and Cliffs followed suit. 

For the next hour or so the group proceeded in a tense silence. Scales became increasingly tense as time dragged on. One would-be ordinary encounter with those colossal whales left him quite shaken. He blamed it on the alien waters messing with his biochemistry. 

Shadows suddenly froze. 

*“Enemy ahead. Approximately 100 kilometers. It’s one of their ‘ships.’ I don’t like how close it is to us. Proceed in absolute silence.”* 

\*\*\* 

“Captain, we’ve lost the enemy.” 

“What changed? We’ve been tracking them just fine for the past hour or so.” 

“Dunno, maybe they realized that we’re following them. Or more likely, they saw our surface ship and decided not to take any chances. What do we do now?” 

“Well, what will we do when the enemy turns off the lights? We turn on ...
***
Content cut off. Read original on https://old.reddit.com/r/HFY/comments/1ggvs2x/sound_of_death/

This is an automated archive made by the Lemmit Bot.

The original was posted on /r/hfy by /u/001DeafeningEcho on 2024-11-01 00:31:17+00:00.

When we first journeyed from our home system, we didn’t know what to expect: an empty galaxy, one filled with countless races similar and distinct, or even just one. We didn’t expect a grave.

It didn’t take long for us to find the first evidence. 20 light years from our home system, less than three days warp travel for us at the time, an exploration ship stumbled across the first evidence of alien life, the first evidence of others like us. It was a crypt, a million broken ships surrounding a thousand shattered space habitats, colonized asteroids, moons, and planets, not a single living soul left.

It was not the last we’d find. One by one we discovered that our galaxy was more a tomb than a cradle; a thousand broken systems found in the first year, a thousand more in the next. What life we found were simply the echos of those long gone: automated defenses able to wipe out hole fleets, super weapons that can crack planets in two, foundries construction battle fleets long after those who would command them ceased to be. Wherever we looked we found a galaxy turned to dust a thousand thousand generations before our time; I myself remember seeing in my childhood a super dreadnought larger than many moons that existed before my ancestors knew how to make fire.

Centuries after we find went out into the galaxy, and centuries before than any of your peoples, esteemed council, joined us, we found the answer we had been craving and dreading for all that time: why?

In the depths of space, distant from any star, we found a small satellite of ancient make. Within it lay a message, one I shall show you all now: (The center of the room lights up, filled with a large hologram. The image presented is of a mammalian biped, strands of pure grey fur covering its head and reaching to its neck, grazing the creature’s pale skin. “Greetings to any who find this, I am Robert Landers, and I am here to tell you how the galaxy died.” The silence already covering the room becomes deafening at the creatures words.

“I am a human, born on the world of Cassandra, only a dozen light years from my people’s ancient home world: Earth, or at least where it once was, dammed Xatharians. When we first ventured into the stars, we found the galaxy a ghost town just like you probably did, everyone dead with only ruins and a few primitive races still in existence. We sought to understand why it happened, why the galaxy tore itself apart. We found the answer, though a bit too late.” The creature takes a deep breath, before continuing. “Each cycle, for lack of a better word, a single race becomes supreme over all others, their head start as the first to arrive on the scene allowing them to grow powerful. Eventually, the other races join together to defeat the first race, starting a war that leads to the death of all life within the galaxy, all advanced life at least.”

A deep, almost broken sigh comes from the creature. “I am recording this in the three thousand, seven hundred, and fifty second year of what we believe is the nine hundredth such cycle in the Milky Way, this galaxy.” Something happens with the creatures eyes, seeming to stare deep within everyone watching. “Please make it the last.”) It seems we have failed.

This is an automated archive made by the Lemmit Bot.

The original was posted on /r/hfy by /u/Hot-West9928 on 2024-10-31 23:24:11+00:00.

First_Previous_

Royal Road_wiki

Oblivious to the invisible addition, Sophie looked questioningly at her son.

"Are you finished?" She asked.

"Yes, my spell is working again, and I could convince Dino of my wish," Mor replied.

"Great, then we can leave and go home. That Gorn fellow and his wife were kind of nice for Ice-kin, but the rest of them are rather cold," Sophie said.

°Good one.° The human chuckled.

"Could we stay one more night? I would like to say goodbye to everyone and have to tell you something. However, not right here. We still do have a place to stay, right? The chief told me he left a present there for me," Mor said.

°Also, you want more time to go after that mystery. Even though the Ice-kin don't want your help.° The human said.

°I will just ask Elly once. If she says no, then I will leave it at that.° Mor stated.

°Yeah, right. As if.° The human said.

For now, though, Mor had nothing more to do than to return with his mother to the temporary lodging. He dreaded the discussion about Mirage with his mother. Even with Dino accepting it, Sophie was something else. So, the excuse of not wanting anyone to overhear them was very welcome. It also wasn't a complete excuse because talking about Mirage where everyone could hear them might be a problem if words like monstrosity were shouted out in surprise or anger.

However, Mor and Sophie soon arrived at the lodging provided for the Soul-kin traders still in the city. The second lodging provided for the Soul-kin prince had been repurposed for other needs again. At least, that was what Sophie had been told by the Ice-kin guards asking her to relocate to the other Soul-kin group. Luckily for Mor, there was enough room, so he didn't have to share one with his mother.

Mor agreed to meet his mother after he got settled. To his pleasant surprise, all of his belongings, including the present, had already been brought here. Mor stared at the folded leather armor lying on the bed. Instead of the usual monochrome black color of normal armor, this had a slight rainbow sheen.

°Fancy.° The human said, just as Mor picked up the armor to get a closer look.

At the same time, a letter fell out of the folds, and Mor quickly read it. The Snow village had provided this armor as a sign of friendship, and according to the letter, the armor was made out of the first two monstrosities Mor had helped slay. The body armor was made out of the illusory raptor. However, the Ice-kin couldn't check if it had some special effects other than a fancy sheen. However, the gloves, boots, and an added helmet missed the sheen and instead had an ominous feel to them.

As Mor looked over the armor in awe of the craftsmanship, Mirage appeared next to him. Mor looked down at the small monstrosity sniffing at the armor and then stared in surprise as Mirage put a paw on the body armor, and its tails stood upright with a slight quiver. The armor reacted to the magic flowing from the illusory fox, the rainbow sheen getting brighter for a second, and then the armor changed color, adapting to the color of the bedsheet it laid upon.

°Camoflage armor.° The human said, amazed.

°I think the Ice-kin thought they gave us just useful armor with sentimental value. However, according to their letter, it seems they had an inkling that this armor might be more than they could see.° Mor answered.

°Yup, they probably tried infusing it like a weapon, and it reacted. But without being able to use illusion spells, they wouldn't be able to narrow down the reaction.° The human mused, and Mor agreed.

°However, our little smart Mirage sniffed out the commonality in their powers.° The human said proudly.

Mor put the armor back and petted the little fox on its head, its three tails wagging excitedly.

"You're full of surprises. I think the human was right to bring you along." Mor said, picking up the small fox.

"Can you turn invisible for a moment?" He asked, Mirage looking up at his face.

It took a few more tries to get Mirage to understand what Mor wanted, but it did. Mor was allowed to carry the small one with him to his mother. He believed that bringing Mirage along and showing off the cute thing would help convince his mother about Mirage's harmlessness.

"Mor!" Sophie said, smiling after she opened the door to her room.

"Did you get situated?"

"Yes, mother," Mor answered.

"And you're sure you want your own room?" Sophie asked, and Mor smiled at her.

"Mother, I am old enough to stay on my own. I survived without you in the Ice-kin village." He stated.

"I know, but I was worried about you. You are my little boy, after all." Sophie said.

"Losing you was devastating for your father and me." She added, and Mor nodded.

"I understand, which makes what I want to tell you even harder." He said.

"No matter what you did and say. I won't lose you again." Sophie declared.

"Even if I did something forbidden?" Mor asked, and Sohpie nodded in determination.

Mor took a deep, calming breath before releasing whatever he had in his crossed arms.

"Mirage, " he said softly, and Sophie's eyes grew wide in shock as the creature shook off its invisibility. However, before she could say anything, Mor started his explanation.

"This is Mirage. The human called it a vampire illusion fox. It helped us fight the alpha howler after I healed it. Without Mirage's help, I might not be here now because we wouldn't have been able to kill the howler." Mor said softly, as Sophie's eyes darted between the awkwardly smiling Mor and the monstrosity, which has laid down on the floor next to Mor's feet.

"It saved you?" She asked. "But it's a monstrosity."

"It is." Mor agreed. "However, the monstrosities are changing, and we need to adapt. This is what I told Dino."

Sophie knelt down and held her hand to the little fox, which gave her a sniff, and Mor almost feared Mirage would bite to get a drop of blood. However, to his surprise, Mirage only licked at Sophie's fingers and then nestled its head into the palm of the woman, rubbing against her hand.

"It's strange," Sophie said. "When I see it like that, does it look harmless and even a bit cute?"

"I know. The human said that they have something called pets in their world, animals that are companions." Mor said, relieved.

"Animals are those magicless monstrosities, right?" Sophie asked, and Mor nodded.

Mor sat down on the floor and stroked Mirages' small back, the little monstrosity pulling away from Sophie and curling into his lap. It prodded his hand, and Mor put it close to its snout, feeling the little pinprick of its bite.

"I feel stupid now." He said as Mirage licked the inflicted wound. "I feared that you would be angry or attack Mirage."

"Honestly, I'm overwhelmed by this situation and don't know what to think right now. So I will trust you. You are my smart boy, after all, and if that little monstrosity saved you, I can't feel anything but gratitude toward it," Sophie said.

There was a short pause, after which both Mor and his mother chuckled.

"What is it doing right now?" Sophie asked, looking at the enthusiastically licking fox.

"Eating?" Mor put forward.

"What do you mean eating?" Sophie asked sternly.

"It needs blood to survive. It also must be of something with magic." Mor said.

"Doesn't that hurt?" Sophie asked.

"Not really. It also doesn't drink much." Mor said, and like Mirage wanted to prove Mor right, it stopped licking and curled back into a fluffy ball, satisfied after feeding.

Mor looked at his finger. However, there was only a slightly reddened point left, the needle-like teeth having only inflicted shallow punctures, just enough to draw blood. He held up his hand to show his mother.

"See, it's not bad," Mor stated.

The two of them continued to talk for a long while, and Mor felt closer to his mother since a long time ago. Over their shared "secret" Mirage, the little creature napped peacefully as the mother-son duo reconnected for real, without anyone interrupting them. They worked through the time of their separation again, talking about their feelings and the time apart.

This is an automated archive made by the Lemmit Bot.

The original was posted on /r/hfy by /u/KyleKKent on 2024-10-31 22:15:58+00:00.

First

Weight of Dynasty

As a trade world Soben’Ryd has a very active orbital region. There are numerous areas with micro-gravity parking and just general places where ships can be tethered to hang and fall forever after a world always moving away fast enough to stay away. But without air there’s no real sensation of movement, and only micro-meteors and comets smaller than drops of dew to wear and tear at the ships.

Ironically in space, space does have a premium to it. You don’t really run out, there’s so much space between worlds and stars that storage is never a problem. But the good space? The places that are convenient and desired? To say nothing of spaces with a view of nearby moons, worlds or stars. Those spaces go for a premium and are highly valuable.

Which is why a lot owner was glad to get rid of those old ships. Honestly she had been contemplating selling them for scrap value. And while the sale wouldn’t compensate for the sheer loss of revenue holding onto the stupid things had brought her, it would stop the bleeding and go a good way to bandaging the wound. Just not as far as she would like, but getting ten times what she was considering settling for wasn’t something she was going to complain about.

It had been collected by a drone delivering a data-chit for each ship. It quickly put in a location on each ship it’s auto-pilot to take over and they both had flown at minimal power to the planet. Likely to get a refit, a buff job, a paint job and maybe some proper furniture in there. They were still good functional ships, just... abandoned by the previous owner for whatever reason.

There is a smile on her face as she rents out their former spaces and the money starts coming back in even faster.

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

“You’re asking a lot of questions...”

“I’m retraining for a new job, and I need to show that I know how to do a public survey.” Observer Wu flat out lies and his bodyguards snicker.

“And they are?”

“Observers. Making sure I’m doing my job.” He lies further and Harold starts snorting and trying not to laugh.

“And him?”

“Nephew, by adoption. I gotta see him do this.” Harold lies immediately with a huge smile.

“Oh... and what do you do?”

“All sorts of things.” Harold replies.

“Sexual things?’

“Gotta get past my wives for that.” Harold replies.

“Yes, yes, very interesting. But can we please get back to my record? The sooner I finish this the better.”

“Oh? Are you in a hurry?”

“We got tickets to a show tonight but he needs to finish properly.” Harold says holding up some tickets to ‘local culture’ that he had gotten a chance to grab. The Sorcerers had been agreeable to bringing over his wives and he had decided to splurge on the wages he’d been piling up for the last few months. There was a bulk discount deal so Observer Wu and his bodyguards are coming too.

“With who?”

“The Five Flyz.”

“The Five Flyz!? Those tickets are so expensive!”

“They’re a bit cheaper if you grab a whole row.” Harold says and she stares at him with her mouth open.

“And you’ve said too much ‘nephew’, now she won’t answer any questions.” Observer Wu chides him.

“No no! I’m just... nevermind. So... you want to know what I think about humans?”

“Right, the general idea of a species that came out of the most inhospitable part of the galaxy and how it’s changing things. Soben’Ryd... I don’t think any humans have ever come here, so we have a good perspective of an outsider’s point of the view. I’ve been doing some polling with those who are from worlds that have had humans on them but...”

“Right, another point of view. Is there a reason you can’t use your own?”

“I can, but that’s just one point of view. I need more for proper data.” Observer Wu states and she nods before she starts to talk in earnest.

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

“Are you sure about this?” Arden’Karm asks as he pulls up the mask and turns it to the side so the crossbar at the end of the chunk of wood come off. It’s a vaguely skull like chunk of wood with only a pair of eyeholes and the bark still on it. The length of the bar on it keeps it from banging on his nose too much, but also gives a distance from his face so that the eyes look empty unless he tries to make them glow.

His cloak was on and behind the mask were sound dampening headphones. To test out if it would be too much, they had started a hologram of one of their performances and he had stood on the stage while the crowd screamed, music blasted and it felt like a punch to the head whenever he lifted the earphone even slightly.

Which means that he needs to figure out how these things work even better. Couple that with asking for his cloak to listen for certain things, or certain voices instead of everything...

He can pick out conversations even in crowds.

“Come on! It looks great! Especially when you start to let your eyes glow! A few huffs of smoke and it’s so primal! The really old stuff!” The scary stuff!” Cali’Flynn says and he turns to a mirror and then just looks at himself. Alright, fair if it wasn’t him there he’d be reaching for his rifle. But is that really what they want on stage?

“I look like a serial killer.” He replies before making his eyes glow. The glow shifts from red to blue to yellow before he settles on warfire green. It doesn’t do anything to his vision, but it does make him look like he’s about to try and commit murder.

“Oh! That’s a good one! Go with that, it’s haunting and powerful!” She says and he doesn’t answer. Just thinking about things and how things have changed so fast. That his family just took him back in despite him leaving and not speaking for years.

Was it a mistake? Was it the right thing to do? It felt like the right thing to do, both then and now. But it hurt. It hurt then, it hurt now... but things ARE better. Maybe some more time will give him a better look at it.

“Are you sure this is a good idea though? I’m not really a dancer or singer. I haven’t practised or trained and it’s so soon.”

“Don’t worry, this is just to see if you get stage fright. It’s one of those things that you don’t really know until you know. Besides. So much of your outfit is made of plants you could probably make it stand on it’s own and vanish if you need to.”

“Or just vanish and leave the mask behind...” He muses.

“Oh! That’d actually be perfect! Whenever you need to disappear, let the mask drop dramatically to the ground! It’ll work so well!”

“But... well isn’t them knowing that a Sorcerer is there going to be scary?”

“Not really, no one really... gets them around here. They’re pretty much just a Homeworld thing. A powerful and cool Homeworld thing, but a Homeworld thing. So you’re just a wood and foresty themed teleporter with a bass voice.”

“I thought I was a low tenor.”

“Yeah, but you can force it down low and slow.”

“And in Ancient Cindertongue.”

“Of course! It’s a perfect backdrop!”

“Right...” He says pulling out a piece of paper that has the lyrics on it. He then lowers his voice and starts speaking in Ancient Cindertongue. But he understands it perfectly so it means little to him. Harlo’Traz, Master of Monsters! Wielder of the Forest’s Rage! Sorcerer! Vengeance incarnate, Harlo’Traz is his name!”

“Oh that sounded ominous. Just slow it down a little and it’ll be a perfect spooky backdrop for Urani to sing to.”

“If you say so. It sounded like I was just being pretentious really.” He says before thinking. “Also Harlo’Traz was a foodie. The biggest thing The Forests remember about him was him coming up with all kinds of recipes and spending half his life dedicated to finding the best food on Serbow.”

“Really?”

“Yeah. You’re singing about the legend, but I... I sort of have second or thirdhand memories of him... Honestly he’d love to live in the modern day... all the different foods he could try? If he didn’t kill himself eating something for a Cannidor first of course.”

“What made him a sorcerer?”

“He lived in the time of Warladies. One came screaming through his fishing village and he along with his father and male cousins were taken prisoner after his sisters and mothers were put to the blade. They made a big fight of it and Harlo’Traz is the only that got out. He then came back ten years later at the head of an army of twisted beasts that he fed his enemies and their families to.”

“What stopped him?”

“It’s in the song. The cry of innocence lost. Or to be more accurate, Harlo’Traz realized he had become the very thing he hated, so he stopped in his tracks. Turned around and left.

“Wow... so... it was... It really did happen? Whole armies being run over by massive paratak, giant hawks plucking soldiers off the ground, swarms of snakes strangling hundreds of women?”

“And more. There are a rare few poisonous animals in The Dark Forest. They were used to great effect and...” Arden’Karm turns his head to see Shar’Uran typing down some feverish notes. She looks up at him.

“Keep going! Keep going! This is amazing stuff!” She says before putting a finger to her chin and taking a breath. “Vengeance made this man a monster only to be laid low by a child’s cry!”

“Little bouncy for the subject matter.”

“Hmm... need to slow it down a little and find the more lyrical synonyms.” Shar’Uran agrees. “Now spill, what else did he do? Oh! Wait! You have the memories of ALL sorcerer...

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This is an automated archive made by the Lemmit Bot.

The original was posted on /r/hfy by /u/Coyote_Havoc on 2024-10-31 22:15:20+00:00.

First Previous

Several things happened simultaneously. The communication with the probe ended when the comms officer was occupied, the weapons officer jumped at the comms officer to keep the mimics away from the captain, Captain Mumford took a hurried several steps back bumping into the weapons station, and every other officer on the bridge left their station to get as much distance away from Comms as possible.

Captain Mumford rubbed her hip where she had banged it against the weapons station and looked down at the panel as she rubbed the pain out of her leg.

"Weaps?" She asked.

"One. Of. Us. Now." The weapons officer replied, lifting himself off the floor before helping the occupied comms officer to her feet.

"Are you still in there weaps?"

"He is still here Cap-tain."

"Let them go." Captain Mumford ordered.

"They are part of us now." The weapons officer replied. "You will be as well. All of you. One of us."

"And if we refuse?"

"Your bod-dies can be rep-pair-red, ac-cept or do not ac-cept. The res-sult is the same."

"I thought you just wanted to talk?" Captain Mumford asked, running her hand across the weapons station.

"Yes. Talk. We can not talk when you do not al-low it." The comms officer replied.

"What do you mean?"

"You're com-munic-cation sys-tems in-tur-rupt us." Weaps said.

"You do not al-low us to talk, to lis-ten, to ev-ven think" comms continued.

"Sin-ce we have enc-count-tered you, you prev-vent us from sp-peak-king." This time it was navigation that had been taken.

"We just want to talk. Now we will talk. You will be sil-lent." All three said in unison.

Captain Mumford didn't like the hand she had been dealt in all of this. She was 48 years young and in the prime of her life as well as a commanding officer in charge of a Battleship. She had everything going for her, and even now she could feel it all slipping away as the mimics voices entered her own mind.

"One of us." The pilot said, bringing herself out of her seat and facing the Captain.

Captain Mumford felt the desire to reply. To just let go and allow the mimics inside of her to take over. She hated it with every ounce of her being and continued to resist.

"You will never be anything but a cheap copy!" She raged. "A mimic of humanity."

"You are the mim-mic." Comms replied.

"Copy made of mat-ter." The pilot said.

"We are en-er-gy. we ex-xist in wave form. You can not stop us." The mimic fighting for her mind finished.

Captain Mumford knew she was loosing this battle. She had already connected the dots and knew what the score was. She also knew what they wanted. She just didn't know if she had the time left.

"Computer, close caption recording. Remove all voc-cal-liz-zat-tion and send."

"Confirmed, recording is sent captain."

The comms officer frowned. "You can not stop us cap-tain."

"I can try." Captain Mumford replied.

"Give up cap-tain." Her own voice betrayed her. She felt lost and scared, but...

"You have my voice, you have my ears,"

"It is al-most done cap-tain."

"Do the eyes work?"

Warning flashed in the eyes of her Bridge crew as her own head swiveled to see where her hand was.

"What does Pier-re Prot-toc-col mean cap-tain?"

With the last of her strength, she applied what little force remained in her left arm activating the program that the weapons officer had left open for her before tackling Comms.

"*Pierre Protocol accepted, self destruct sequence initiated."

The last card she could play, casually thrown on the table as she cashed out and walked away from the table.

"You can not stop us!" Her own mind screamed at her, and as she succumbed she let slip her final words in this life.

"I just did."

/////

Two months had passed since the final transmission of the UTS Prizren. In that time all Admiralty officers and other personnel exposed to the mimics were removed from their positions and replaced with personnel who had not been exposed to the frequency that the mimics existed on. The same frequency that the UTS had initially chosen for rudimentary communications.

The name Prizren was retired from use, there would never be another of her name. Captain Mumford and her crew were awarded the Defender of Terra Medal posthumously. There funeral was held in Prizren Kosovo along with the unveiling of a memorial to the ship and crew.

Much is still not known or understood about the mimics. Though the frequency is no longer in use and permanently blocked from any and all UTS communications equipment, it still exists and the mimics with it. A warning was transmitted to all known sapient species containing the final transmission of the UTS Prizren, in close caption of course, to ally and enemy alike in order to prevent another occurrence of the mimics. Only time will tell if they ever pose a threat again, and Humanity constantly scans for five words indicating they've returned.

"We. Just. Want. To. Talk."

This is an automated archive made by the Lemmit Bot.

The original was posted on /r/hfy by /u/Nik_2213 on 2024-10-31 21:03:27+00:00.

"Minister, there is a diplomatic courier at the door: He says it is time-critical."

Minister Ixixix (etc) looked up from again brushing another rank-sash's many tassels on her patio, to be ready for the first Grand Parade of 'Triumph Day', commencing in barely an eighth of a day-cycle. Traditionally, such had to be done by the wearer.

"Species ?"

"A Terran, Minister. He has a 'For your eyes only' package."

"They have yielded the Canopus Cluster ? Send him in !"

Minister Ixixix (etc) studied the courier with her central and both lateral eyes. Unlike the Terran Ambassador, who was always resplendent, this figure seem dressed in a set of dull rags. Strangely, they made him very hard to see, the fabric's dull patterns and shades causing her focus to repeatedly slip aside.

"I am Commander Brown, Terran Alliance Military Attaché. I bear a time-sensitive message, 'For your eyes only'."

"Ha ! So you Terrans have finally realised the folly of thwarting our Ixarthian Supremacy ! Give it here !"

The opaque tube had a strong wax seal. She broke this, unlatched, unscrewed the lid. She slid out the scrolled document within, turned it about. The formal font took a moment to recognise, was slow to read...

"To whom it may concern: As the Ixarthian Supremacy continues to make impossible demands and fails to adhere to prior binding agreements, the Terran Alliance here-by declares that a state of war will exist between our star polities as of 00:00 Ixarthian Central Time of 'Triumph Day'--

"What ? You Terrans have found the temerity to declare war ? Our Fleets will sweep your small, weak ships aside like a path's fallen tree-cones !"

"Read on."

Minister Ixixix (etc) suddenly realised this courier had a cryogenic 'Command Voice', was perhaps more than he appeared..

"I am being with-drawn as Terran Ambassador, the Embassy closed. Further diplomatic contact may take place via the Zinzin Legation.

"As Ixarthian authorities have repeatedly declared that humans in the Canopus Cluster are 'vermin, unfit to live' similar consideration may be applied to any and all Ixarthian combatants, plus their logistical and administrative support.

"May the survivors forgive you.

"By the hand of George Pemberton-Smythe, this date."

Minister Ixixix (etc) waved the document, hissed, "This is nonsense ! Why do you Terrans even bother ?"

"Pemberton-Smythe is a good man. Hard working, honest," Commander Brown stated. "He dedicated nearly three eights of your annuals to trying to prevent this. He thinks he's failed. Your media and ours both deride him as a failed appeaser...

"War is hell: One of the hardest military evolutions is a fighting withdrawal." Commander Brown gave her a look that unsettled. "One of our history's greatest generals told his excellent subordinates, 'Ask of me anything but time'...

"Pemberton-Smythe delayed you by two annuals beyond our best-case projections. We have used them well." Commander Brown waved beyond the patio's high walls, said, "Out there, the Ixarthian Prime Home Army and Home Fleet are mustering for review by your Supremacy and her First Heir.

"At Star-Base Five, her Second Heir prepares to review your Fleets One, Two and Five , along with a convoy carrying Agents, Inquisitors, Assessors and Administrators. Also, those 'Great and Good' who expect to claim vast estates from the Second Heir as Governor of the Canopus Cluster.

"Star-Bases One through Four have had their Fleets stripped to augment your Canopus seizure, are now minimally defended...

"Preparing for these reviews has kept each Fleet and Star-Base combing their tassels, painting pipes and burnishing binnacles, even practising close-formation drill, for more than three eights of day-cycles.

"Do you know what such combat-ineffective assemblages are called ? 'Big Juicy Targets'."

"Big... Juicy...".Minister Ixixix (etc) stuttered. "TARGETS ??"

"Decapitation strike."

"Why you, you VERMIN--""

"Blow it." Commander Brown spoke to the empty air. A loud bang, a billow of foul smoke split the tall street-wall from flood-lit spikes to ground. Debris tidily fell away to both sides, leaving a dark opening, easily wide enough to pass a big ground-car or 'Ferrix' tankette..

"Always, always, on the late eve of 'Triumph Day', your communication systems are swamped by well-wishing callers. To this, add a short but sufficient 'Distributed Denial of Service' attack.

"All you can do now, Minister, is sit here and watch the sky fall...

"For his work, Pemberton-Smythe has earned a big promotion.

"Next time you meet, abase yourself and call him 'Governor'." Stepping sideways into shadow, his drab garb hid Commander Brown so well, she glimpsed but the merest flicker as he left her distraught.

This is an automated archive made by the Lemmit Bot.

The original was posted on /r/hfy by /u/DrBlackJack21 on 2024-10-31 20:58:21+00:00.

Concept art for Sybil

Book1: Chapter 1

[

This is an automated archive made by the Lemmit Bot.

The original was posted on /r/hfy by /u/PepperAntique on 2024-10-31 20:49:42+00:00.

Previous / First

Writer's Note: Happy Halloween. Also... whew boy, this is a longer one than I expected. Joey gets to do baller shit. And also discards his chill for a bit. This faintly reminds me of the part in the first story where Vickers was fighting his fellow SEALS and the embassy soldiers were just like "Is he a super villain? I think he might be a super villain."

Eh, I shouldn't spoil it. You'll see what I'm talking about.

Enjoy and see y'all next week.

When Noodle, with Joey still clinging to her back and repelling the last few slingers still on her, burst through the wall of slingers at the edge of the forest and got into the clearing near the top of the mountain, Joey had thought they were both free.

It hadn't been easy. The monsters, for that was what they were to him now, had amassed in a wall of bodies between them and their freedom.

[In order to break through Noodle had had to blast several jets of flame at them, while still running forward.

Joey had had to use his druidic power to push back the trees around them, and in front of them, and he'd had to do it while continuing to fight.

And even still they'd had to bash their way through the wall bodily, with Noodle pulling her head back and using it like a ram. Joey had had no choice but to hold on for dear life while kicking at a slinger that had grabbed at his off hand with bone-breaking strength.

That had still resulted in them only barely breaking through, and they'd had more than a few slingers clinging to Noodle's side and to Joey. They'd spent the first few moments of their newfound freedom with Noodle still running for several hundred yards before slamming onto her side and death rolling as Joey let himself get tossed off so he could struggle with his attackers on his own.

When the last few of the slingers had been repelled the two of them had lain on the ground panting and heaving at the smell of the various things they were covered in. Joey had looked over at Noodle, who was slowly shaking a dead slinger with her head before slamming it into the ground and leaving it there.

She looked over at him and, despite her reptilian features, he thought he saw exhaustion and anger. Feelings he could relate to.

Then he heard the screeching and farting noises behind them escalate in volume. It had been so constant for the past few hours that it had almost become white noise up until now as he noticed the growing noise. He saw Noodle's eyes widen like a predatory cat's might, and she bared her fangs as she got into a fighting stance that was all too familiar to him.

Joey turned and immediately leapt to his feet, his sword back in his hand once more as he moved to her side.

The slingers weren't done with them.

As he looked he saw just how outnumbered they had actually been. With the trees no longer concealing the masses of slingers that had been chasing them, he could now see just how truly massive the troupe (or whatever a group of the ape-like creatures was called) really was.

They slowly ambled out of the forest in a massive, solid, group.

He was vaguelly reminded of a movie he'd seen where ancient barbarians had emerged from the woods to fight a Roman legion. The way the slingers seemed to just... appear... from the woods, and the way they slowly crept forward, it was almost identical. 

Noodle rumbled and he felt her heating up again. But she made a noise that he honestly didn't think he'd ever heard Steve or any other drake make before as she looked at him for a moment. It was like a cross between a whine and a deep chirp-like noise.

It was an incredibly disturbing noise to hear from the typically stoic and sassy beast.

"Yeah I uh... I don't know girl." He admitted. "I think this might be when I have to do something dramatic again."

Without knowing what to do, Joey relied on his instincts.

As the slingers began loping along at a faster and faster pace, and as their "projectiles" began to darken the sky, he sheathed his rapier and raised his hands up as his eyes began to glow white, and his antlers green and gold.

And once again, he began to act like his brother.

"Keep your stinking paws off of us you damned dirty apes!" He yelled as he stepped forward and the light emanating from him began to flare.

He strained, every ounce of magic and every muscle in his body flaring with exertion as he focused on just... getting the apes away from them by any means necessary.

His vision faded from the combination of exertion and his physically abused state. He thought that last slinger may have cracked the bones in his left arm.

But he had work to do.

And the mountain began to vibrate.

"What in the hells is that?" Kaladi asked as she fished through her belt pouch for her seeing glass.

Down below, the forest on the side of the mountains was churning and roiling as a massive dark mass moved through it.

"That's a canyon slinger clan." Ykmir responded easily. He gave a command to his wyvern through the reins and it began to dive slightly. Kaladi was glad that her seat had built in straps holding her down as she grabbed at the bedroll in front of her. "What in the hells could rile up a whole clan like that?" He pointed down. "They've mobilized everything from the looks of it. Only the ones tending their young'll still be at their dens. That's a damn army."

Beneath them Grasswing began letting out low grunting noises as his head began turning from side to side to keep his eyes on something down below.

She had an idea as to what it was as she finally got her looking glass out.

"That's a drake down there." Ykmir said, beating her to the call out. "Grasswing knows."

"The one we're looking for?" She asked back as she now saw the occasional jets of flame that would cause the horde of moving creatures to clear space for a few seconds. There was also a familiar looking white light that would occasionally flare up.

She was tapping a message into her helmet before he answered.

"Be my guess." He said back to her. "They're almost free of the woods." He said as he pulled the wyvern into a stable altitude. "That's a bad idea."

She saw what he was talking about.

"Why do you say that?" She asked.

He looked back at her, suddenly reminded that she'd probably never left Ostielle before, or at least not for a long time, and had likely never encountered the creatures before.

"When they're in the trees they rely mostly on ambush tactics and ranged attacks. Hence the name canyon SLINGER. They'll keep doing that until their prey is worn out, then they'll mob em and rip em to shreds." He informed her. "But just getting out of the woods wont' be enough to make them leave you alone. They'll chase for a few miles after that. But without the trees they'll resort to moving en masse and will just bum rush their prey as a whole. No subtlety. Just aggression and numbers."

Sure enough as they watched, her through the glass and him just with his eyes and his watchful mount, the mass broke out of the woods and she saw her target.

She tapped her helmet again.

[Target confirmed.] She submitted. [Yellow drake. White luminescence. Target currently engaged in battle with local wildlife. Activating backup enchantment and deploying visual guidance.]

She tapped at Ykmir's shoulder as she put away the glass. He looked back at her as she activated the enchantment on her chest-plate that would guide the other legionnaires to her position.

"Bring us down." She said as she pulled a set of smoke flares from a different pouch and set one off before throwing it over the wyvern's side. "Not in the woods."

He looked back at her with a "No shit." look on his face.

"Like hells I'd land in those woods." He said. "We shouldn't get too close." He added. He pointed back down and she finally saw the mass of creatures moving out of the woods toward Joseph Choi and his drake companion. From their elevation it looked like an entire landmass was moving toward the two. "They're not fans of things interfering with their hunts or fights."

"I don't care." She said as she readied another flare with a balloon attachment that it would keep aloft with its own heat. "I'm only going down long enough to retrieve him. The drake and the beasts can kill each other for all I care.

Ykmir turned back forward and sighed before ordering Grasswing down.

Then he paused and they both had to shield their eyes as a brilliant white light, with bits of green and gold swirling in it, emanated from below. With it came a flood of magical energy that made her armor flare to life as it registered the different types.

She didn't miss the way the newly installed rune on her vambrace flared white, indicating the presence of divine magic.

A noise, like a god or some massive titan grinding their teeth, began to go with the bright light.

"What in the hells?" Ykmir said, once again taking the words right out of her mouth.

Down below, the top portion of the mountain began to move, extending and moving sideways as the mass of canyon slingers froze in its tracks.

She was reminded of the incident in the ward, and how he'd somehow created new land as he shifted the buildings and people of the ward back.

Now he was doing that to a significantly more impressive degree.

She slapped Ykmir's side frantica...

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The original was posted on /r/hfy by /u/Mista9000 on 2024-10-31 19:07:30+00:00.

Synopsis:

This week an avalanche of advance alloys from underground allies abound!

A wholesome* story about a mostly sane demonologist trying his best to usher in a post-scarcity utopia using imps. It's a great read if you like optimism, progress, character growth, hard magic, and advancements that have a real impact on the world. I spend a ton of time getting the details right, focusing on grounding the story so that the more fantastic bits shine. A new chapter every Wednesday!

**Some conditions apply, viewer cynicism is advised.*

Map of Hyruxia

Map of the Factory and grounds

Map of Pine Bluff 

.

Chapter One

Prev

*****

“That’s the whole problem with you new people—you don’t understand how much better this is than before! I mean, we didn’t even have anything like this before!” The city watchman’s white moustache flopped distractingly as he spoke, but Karruk’s professionalism kept his attention sharp.

“Aye, it’s nice! Wave Gate hasn’t anything nearly as impressive as this!” He gestured around the small tastefully appointed lookout. The two men stood behind sturdy dorf-cut stone parapets, on the top level of the coastal fort. Everything here not only looked new, but had been built in the last several months. It was so new that the smell of creosote and sawdust still lingered, even in the stiff sea breeze. 

“I am just saying, I think we should make time to practise with the new ballistae, I’ve seen plenty, but none like this, and I’ve never used one! Lord Stanisk was clear, I’m here to help you, so I’m not telling, I’m asking. May I set up some training sessions? It seems prudent, it's a complex machine!”

They slowly walked around the raised firing platform to admire the closest in a row of five new defensive ballistae. The only ones Karruk had ever seen used thick timber for the bow portion, but these were gleaming steel, an unimaginable extravagance. He didn’t make nearly enough money to afford a steel pocket knife, and here was a precision weapon that weighed as much as two or three men. Where every timber ballista bow gently curved back, these steel arms gracefully went forward first, like a steppe horseman’s bow. Gold filigree along the recurved arms glinted in the afternoon sun, and he was sure the gold was the cheapest part of it.

Such fine machines are wasted in unskilled hands!

“I don’t doubt you want to play with these new toys! But they are serious weapons! Not something to shoot empty bottles off a fencepost with!” The old-timer ran a finger along the braided steel bowstring. 

How does the mage draw such pure steel as to weave with it? A wonder of industrialism! I have no idea how it’s different from hemp, but I bet it is! A tenth the thickness for one! I didn’t even know steel could be woven!

“That’s exactly what we should do! Set some target buoys, assign two or three fire teams for each weapon, and drill all day long! Normal ballistae are pretty durable, but I’ve got a feeling these can outlast the seas and mountains!”

Karruk flipped up the ladder sights. Fine red hairs were painted on the bronze plate, marking distances, with narrow slits to correct for fall-off. There was a calibration screw at the bottom, still set wide open.

“Just one day to zero these sights would make a world of difference!” Karruk said, trying not to sound like he wanted to play with the huge new toys. “I don’t think anyone in town has fired anything like this but I’ll ask around. Worst comes to it, I reckon we can puzzle it out, it’s not that different from a crossbow. But we need to practise! These things are too nice to squander!”

“Hmmph. Fine. If you file a request to your bosses for some training ammo, I bet Lord Stanisk knows how to shoot one, he was the one pushing for us to get them. Yeah, fine. We can set up a regular drill night.  Maybe monthly drills? There aren’t enough town watch to run all these, so the militia oughta learn too.”

Karruk nodded. The small town had somehow gotten several different paramilitary hierarchies competing. The Count had his men, White Flame had theirs. There was the town watch which answered to the mayor, and the militia that in theory answered to the watch, but in practice was trained and equipped entirely by the mage, and swore their oaths to the Count. 

To say nothing of the imperial army, which had a small legion barracks in town, but hadn’t seen a legionnaire in a generation. It was a requirement for every town to maintain such a barracks, though Pine Bluff’s was full of refugees now. That was a medium big crime, but in the scheme of things, the best solution.

“Alright, I can do that. It’ll be worth it. Also far more bolts too. Is there just one box of them?” Karruk asked.

The old timer shrugged, ”All that was here when I got here! They are something beautiful though!” His floppy moustache hid his lusty smile as he stared at the new ballistae. “Lad! Just look at ‘em! Like steel crossbows, the size of an ox-cart! Filled with fancy gears and cranks, I bet a child could fire one of these!”

“I agree, sir! I’ve served a long time, and never seen their like!”

“A long time?! Pfft! You’re all of what? Twenty? A gruelling few weeks, eh?” the watchman said as he gestured for Karruk to follow him down into the main keep.

“Hey! I was a guard in Wave Gate for twelve years! I’m nearly thirty now! Just because you were born before fire was invented doesn’t mean I’m a kid!” He hastily raised the weapon’s canvas cover and darted after his new supervisor. 

“Let's get you started on how to take an out-of-empire customs declaration, it’s important to get it right, or you’ll be drowning in amended applications. Don’t worry about the defences, kid. I’ve been a guard for far, far longer. We’ve only been attacked once. It’s fine.”

*****

“Make sure you let them know how to activate the glyphs, otherwise these are just noisy pyjamas!” The mage placed the canvas covered bundles into Ros’s arms. He glanced at Ros, the package, and the door. “I’m so sorry, I should be there, but I have to get going. I'm meeting those apprentice mages at the new academy site. I should have left ages ago! I can trust you with this, right?” 

Ros nodded, trying to think up something clever to say to put his boss's mind at ease, but the mage was already gone, hurrying down to his waiting horses and the small party accompanying him today. 

The worst part of being the dorf liaison is that I for sure would have been spending the day with Mage Thippily and Stanisk otherwise. That's where exciting things always happen. I’m just glad they both feel they can rely on us to keep the process running in tip-top shape, so I mustn’t let them down.

The bundle was quite heavy, more than bundles of clothes ought to be. And it jingled! He had a pretty good idea of what he had, and hopefully, he’d be able to explain it to the dorfs. As heavy as the load was, Ros had grown lean and strong, and carrying it down the stairs and across the yard was no hardship to him. 

I shouldn’t complain about being the dorf guy, they’re great and I seem to be better at understanding them than anyone else in the guard. They’re better to hang out with than anyone I knew in my old life, and what would my mom have thought to learn that’s I’d grown up to basically be an ambassador to a whole other race!

“Hey! You’re back! How’d it go at the hive?” Eowin called from the gatehouse as he passed.

“Good, no time to talk, I got a delivery, but I’ll tell you all about it at lunch! We got back super late last night!” Ros kept his steady pace. He wanted to wave, but his arms were too full, and it was hard to keep it all balanced as it was. He worried not waving was rude; he always waved. With effort, he did a nodding bow, but Eowin had already turned his attention elsewhere.

Ros left the sturdy walls and took the smooth cobbled path to the dorf excavation. He went through the tight door, down the spiral ramp and into the main mine chamber. Even since he’d last been here, about a week ago, before his trip into the mountains, it was different. The dorf way to make high ceilings was shockingly simple, they just excavated out the floor as they went. Last time he was here he had to keep his neck bent to avoid the ceiling, and now he doubted he could touch it if he jumped. Just as well, since his hands were too full to grab his helmet.

“Hello! Any dorfs about?” he shouted.

Without an answer, he kept going deeper. It was much warmer here than the chilly fall morning on the surface, but still cooler than it had been a week ago, and the mage's moss frames were doing a great job with the air. It smelled slightly of smoke, but no more than a cottage in the winter might, and the air was clear enough that he could see and breathe without a problem. The stone underfoot was rough, but fairly even, and the moss frames on both sides of the wide corridor cast plenty of calm green light. He could see some new side passages that hadn’t been there before. Branching out made sense, the point was to extract rock, so might as well get the ones close to the exit first. 

None of the new branches had any noise coming from them, so he carried on. The entire coastal fort had been quarri...

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This is an automated archive made by the Lemmit Bot.

The original was posted on /r/hfy by /u/Khenal on 2024-10-31 20:07:30+00:00.

Hello everyone! For book two, I wasn't able to give much notice of stubbing, but I'm hopefully a bit more on the ball for Book three! Up to chapter 229 will be removed November 17th, so please prepare accordingly. If you wish to support me, or to get the book in physical, audio, or electronic forms, there's links in the post-chapter note section! Please enjoy the chapter, and thank you all for reading my odd story about a thinking hole in the ground :P

Rhonda

The goblin’s mind races as she slowly eats the soup, and even the nice bread with it can’t distract her from her thoughts right now. How does that new person know about her? About her being an Ice Sage? As far as even old Staiven knows, hers is a completely new class!

She’s seen how the church of the Shield has treated Freddie and his unique class: with friendly interest and a desire to help guide him, but she doesn’t have that kind of support network. It's enough to tempt her… but the acolyte life just isn’t for her. So she only has her mentor’s advice to go on: be careful who you share with.

Karn doesn’t seem to be too worried about what she might do, which is a relief at least. If Rhonda knows anyone who can get a good read on a person, it’s the retired rogue leading the guild. Still, while the librarian herself might be friendly, she’s apparently a follower of the Great Mother. Is she looking to recruit Rhonda? It’s not difficult to imagine the goddess of magic would be interested in her class, just like how the Shield is interested in Freddie’s.

While the Great Mother isn’t as actively helpful as the Shield, she’s not exactly the most actively benevolent deity out there. She’s hardly a plague on the land, but her priesthood seems more interested in pushing the bounds of magic, without worrying too much about the consequences. Some of the most amazing and most terrible magical developments can be laid at their feet, and so at the feet of the Great Mother.

Does she even have the option to try to avoid her? Could she somehow take away Rhonda’s magic? That concerning thought is easily quashed, at least. Taking someone’s magic, if it’s even something she can do, would only diminish her own power. More people doing magic strengthens her domain, right? She might need to ask Freddie about that later, but the logic seems pretty sound to her.

The more she thinks about trying to lay low, the more she thinks the goddess is deliberately trying to give her that option. She clearly knows Rhonda is here and she must know the only Ice Sage is a goblin, at least. But according to Karn, the librarian doesn’t even know Ice Sage is a class, let alone one belonging to a goblin girl.

The newcomer’s presence feels more like an invitation rather than a demand. She can reveal herself, or keep her secret. So which will it be? The shy part of her from before she got her class thinks she should keep quiet. Better to not attract attention. But she’s grown a lot since she got her class… and keeping it secret forever would be hindering her. She’s a student and a teacher. She helps master Staiven as she can, of course, but even he admits he’s a bit too stuck in his ways for her suggestions to be much more than interesting theories for him to experiment with against his own established knowledge. If the new librarian is still inexperienced, she might be able to teach someone from the beginning!

And if she’s making a mistake in trusting the outsider, she has plenty of friends to ensure nothing too bad will happen. She nods to herself as she finishes the soup, her mind made up.

“I’m telling her.”

Freddie and Larrez both give her surprised looks. “Just like that?” asks Freddie, with Larrez following up.

“Are you going to just go up there and introduce yourself and your class, directly?”

Rhonda’s resolve shakes at that question, but doesn’t crumble. “Well, maybe not quite like that, but I do want to tell her. I think by not giving her much information, the Great Mother is kinda letting me decide how and when to share, or even if to share at all.”

Freddie considers that, slowly nodding. “She should know more than what she apparently told the librarian. If she wanted to force the issue, she has a lot of followers in the kingdom. That she sent apparently a single acolyte with sparse information does point at her trying to be diplomatic.”

“Maybe she’s not actually that interested?” suggests Larrez, earning a shake of the head from Freddie.

“She’d have delegated the message through a priest, but Karn didn’t mention anything like that. If she appeared directly to the librarian, it’s important to have her personal attention, important enough to attempt subtlety instead of being direct.”

Rhonda nods. “I’m glad, too. If her High Priest or something was wandering around asking about me, I’d never leave the shop again!” Larrez makes a face at the idea of being sought out like that, and Freddie snickers and nods.

“So, how are you going to go about it? Should we all go up there and chat with her?”

Rhonda thumbs the jewels on her staff as she thinks. “I think I’ll go up there on my own and more or less do what I originally wanted: check out the book on Rocky’s fights. If she really is a follower of the Great Mother, it shouldn’t be hard to pique her interest with his fighting style. I might try to invite her along for our delve, if you two don’t mind?”

Freddie smiles and Larres shrugs. “I don’t have any problem with it. Thedeim is pretty good about not overwhelming new delvers, so we should be able to escort her without issues.”

Rhonda smiles at her friends and stands. “Then I’ll be back before too long! You guys can check the quests for anything interesting while I’m at the library, if you want?”

Larrez and Freddie nod at that and stand, the two gathering the dishes as they do so. “I need to ask Karn if he knows any craftsmen who are available for commissions, too.”

“The Mayor’s estate has a couple good armorers on retainer, if you want me to ask them later,” offers the elf.

“Do they work with rare metals? I was thinking of trying to gather some today, and offset the cost.” The two chat about gear as they head off, and Rhonda heads up the stairs to the library, Lucas relaxing on her hat.

Once inside, the quiet hum of bees fills the air, lending an oddly-calming atmosphere to the place of learning. The new librarian isn’t difficult to spot, the elf in dust-colored robes is sitting at a table, reading a book. It looks like she’s deep in her studies, too, and Rhonda wonders if that’s how she herself looks when in the middle of something interesting.

If it were any other day, she might let her keep reading, but the ice needs to be broken. She raps the end of her staff on the floor, not loud enough to be disturbing, but enough to get her attention in the quiet room full of books and bees. The elf moves a finger to mark her spot as she looks at Rhonda, clearly used to being interrupted in her studies.

Instead of looking sour at being interrupted, she smiles and stands. “Ah, sorry. I was engrossed in my study. How can I help you?”

Rhonda’s shyness tries to surge once more, but she forces it down as she speaks. “Uh, I’m looking for the book on Rocky’s fights? I want to place a bet with Karn, but I want to make sure I’m up on his techniques, first.”

The librarian looks confused before turning her attention to the bees. “Rocky’s fights?” The bees buzz and several mill around in the air over one of the shelves. “Ah, delving logs. Is he a strong delver?” she asks as she leads the way, with Rhonda following along behind her.

“Oh, he’s very strong, but he’s not a delver. He’s one of Thedeim’s scions.”

That draws the librarian up short. “The Guildmaster bets on people’s lives?” she asks, sounding like she can’t believe it. Rhonda giggles and shakes her head.

“Lives? Nah. Rocky is undefeated, but he hasn’t killed anyone. None of Thedeims scions do. In fact, there’s no recorded deaths at all. He works pretty hard to keep it that way, too.”

“No… wait, undefeated?” the elf asks, trying to process what she’s hearing. Rhonda clearly isn’t the only one who’s been hitting the books too hard to keep up with the local goings on. She nods as the librarian remembers she’s supposed to get getting a book, and they chat as they go.

“Undefeated, yeah. He’s Thedeim’s zombie scion, and he fights like nothing else. His mastery of affinities is second to none.”

“Affinities… in a zombie? Not a lich?”

Rhonda laughs at the common confusion. “Not a lich! He likes to punch things, but he infuses them with his affinities with skill and precision. My friends and I have even fought him a couple times, though only once for real.” The goblin snorts at the memory. “He knocked us out with ease once we stopped holding back, but it’s good to have something to aspire to.”

The librarian doesn’t look like she shares that opinion. “If you say so? I’ve never tried adventuring. It seems too dangerous, even for all the benefits it can bring.”

“You should give Thediem a try, then. The manor and grounds are designed for new delvers.”

The elf shakes her head, smiling at the absurdity of the idea. “I don’t think it’s for me.”

“Are you at least going to go see Olander and Rocky fight?”

The elf’s hand freezes in the middle of taking the book from the shelf, her eyes wide with concern. “Olander?”

Rhond...

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First Previous Royal Road

Chapter theme: Labrinth - Kill For Your Love (Official Video) - YouTube

Chapter 40.

Vindicator.

We took our time approaching the Velas estate, gradually building up our anticipation for the rampage we'd soon unleash. Along the way, I told Rachel everything I learned earlier from Anikka, which in turn enraged her and made her eager for the upcoming confrontation.

“All the manipulation, and cowardice, I just can’t stand it,” she said vehemently. “Hiding behind money and influence and throwing away lives. Who could stand to be around such people? That’s why I told Cross I couldn’t join the Valkyries.”

“Oh, is that what she wanted to discuss with you?” I asked.

“Yeeeah,” Rachel said sourly. “I mean it was flattering, right? An elite group of all-female fighters renowned throughout the nation. It sounds great! But having to do so in the service of this pathetic society of backstabbing snakes? I just can’t. Working for the establishment holds no appeal.”

“Did Cross take your answer well?” I wondered.

“She thinks she can still win me over,” Rachel said. “I might have to mesmerize her into backing off.”

“Working in general is for lesser beings, anyway. I’m disappointed she thought she could make a coworker of you. We, the night’s nobility, have no need to toil,” I said haughtily.

“That is so snobby,” she snickered.

“It’s only snobbery if you’re rude about it,” I corrected her.

__

Once we arrived at the Velas estate, the two of us were quick to let loose our shared displeasure with how Anikka had been treated. At this point I feel there was no need to go into an overly descriptive recounting of the response of the security forces that pitted themselves against us, nor the many, many instances that followed in which we maimed and murdered the lot of them without mercy.

While I realize that I haven’t been that sparing in such details before, this time around was a little different due to our raised ire. Today, Rachel and I were especially…unpleasant in our method of dispensing with those doomed, brave souls.

It was a real scene, all right.

The scene of a massacre.

There was a time that I feared taking the lives of other hunters due to the system rules forbidding conflict between our kind. After all, killing them could eventually get us labeled by the system with the dreaded title of [Player Killer], which would leave us unable to live in civilized lands and would have placed a permanent bounty on our heads as an incentive for others to kill us.

That was before I realized that our [True Vampirism] trait essentially negated such a dire outcome. When Rachel and I were in our human forms, the penalties could apply only then. But when we acted as vampires, the system regarded us as monsters. Why would monsters be penalized for acting according to their nature?

It was pretty much a license to kill. Thank goodness Rachel and I were such thoughtful and responsible people who would never even consider abusing such a massively unfair advantage.

“Kyler!” Rachel laughed. “Did you see me rip that one in half? Oh, wow, look at him! He’s trying to crawl away! That’s so gross! I’m going to step on his head.”

Yep. Just a couple of good-natured people out to have a little fun.

It was a shame that Thalia and Patrick weren’t here to share in the fate of their men. Those two were the ones I wanted most of all. I wish I’d thought to confirm their presence before beginning our attack, but it was too late now.

Oh, well. We’d just have to save that particular gratification for a future date.

Once we finished with their outside forces, we smashed our way inside the main house where the elite among them awaited us. After our introductions were made, each side spoke a few monologues and delivered a few thinly veiled threats before squaring up to fight; you know, the usual routine that happens when colorful warriors and deadly monsters decide to clash.

I found it all rather rote, personally speaking, having endured such rituals many times before, but Rachel was bright-eyed with enchantment for the proceedings, having never thrown down with these sorts of characters before. Since it was all still new to her, I refrained from giving any derogatory commentary, not wishing to stymie her enjoyment. In fact, I let her take them all on by herself, while I sought out the master of the estate.

He was the one I truly had business with.

In a way, every misfortune I’d suffered this year all came back to him. Whatever his reasons, he’d been an absolute thorn in my side. And now he was going to pay for it.

How sad that he was so unreceptive to my overtures of friendship when I finally tracked him down.

“Greetings, my lord. Allow me to give you my warmest regards,” I said to him in a jovial manner. “Are you as happy to meet me as I am to finally meet you?”

“And who the hell are you supposed to be?” asked Lord Velas with a ferocious looking scowl.

“Oh, come now, my identity shouldn’t be a surprise to you,” I said as I stepped closer so he could see me. “Not to the master of the great Velas family. Not to the man with his fingers on the scale and his nose in everyone’s business. Of course you know me!”

“Kyler Evans?” he asked in surprise before scoffing at the name. “I knew you recently came scurrying back into the city, but I had no idea you’d be so foolish as to—”

“No,” I said, raising a hand to silence him.

“No?” he asked with a puzzled expression.

“I didn’t scurry back anywhere,” I informed him. “Vermin scurry. Insects scurry. I came into town in a limo. Get it right.”

“I’m sorry, are you completely mental? What the fuck are you doing in my home?” Lord Velas asked angrily.

“Claiming it,” I explained. “Everything here will now be mine, by right of conquest. Your remaining men, your resources, the clothes on your back, the money you’ve saved, I’m taking everything from you*.* Would you like to try disputing my claim?”

“I’d very much like to see you try!” he yelled. “You can’t just steal everything from me and expect to get away with it, you insolent cur! The entire nobility of all three cities will rise against you!”

“There’s no need to take that tone, sir. Men of our ilk shouldn’t argue,” I said. “Despite our many differences, you and I have much in common. Like you, I was a terrible father that failed my children miserably.”

“What insane drivel are you spouting?” Velas said with a sneer.

“Only the truth,” I sighed. “You must know that a father who fails at his duty will eventually make enemies of his own children. You’re lucky that only one of your daughters turned on you.”

Lord Velas glared at me for a moment before saying, “Anikka,” spitting the word out as though it were a curse.

“Correct,” I said with a nod. “Your daughter and I recently reconnected. She feverishly affirmed her passionate devotion to me and begged for my protection from you. As a gentleman, how could I resist?”

“That ungrateful little bitch,” he swore. “How many times must she defy me?”

“Just this once was enough,” I said. “I swear I tried to be logical about this! But who could resist someone as beautiful as your girl? My head said no, but my heart said kill you and plow her in your bed.”

“COME AT ME, THEN!” Lord Velas shouted as red electrical energy enveloped his body and exploded outward, destroying everything around him in a shower of surging sparks and eradicating light. “You presume to challenge me? You want to take what’s mine? Come forth you little bastard and I’ll bury you like just every other fool who dared to face me!”

“Your electrical light effects aren’t going to save you, sir,” I said as I walked toward him. “This isn’t a duel, this is banditry. I’m taking everything that you value. The only thing I won’t do is let you die quickly. That’s the price you’ll pay for laying a finger on Kyler Evans.”

“You shouldn’t have gotten involved with my daughter,” he said remorselessly.

“Then you shouldn’t have stood in her way,” I replied. “Clipped wings can never soar.”

“She is MINE! My property to do whatever I want with!” Velas ranted. “As worthless as she was, the little whore should have been grateful that I found a good use for her! But instead, she defied me! And over what? A misfire like you? A goddamned porter? The jest went too far! A lesson needed to be taught!”

“She said my brother and Thalia were hurting her. Do you understand the implications contained in that sentence? How could you let that happen?” I asked him.

“What business is it of mine how your brother enjoys his cut of meat?” Lord Velas sneered.

In the blink of an eye, I was across the room, standing before him. Lord Velas only had time to blink once and flinch, before my fist punched through his chest all the way up to my elbow. When I removed it with a wet plopping sound, he dropped to his knees with a newly placed sucking wound at the center of his torso.

“Why did you make me do that? I was going to play with you a bit first,” I asked him.

Bloody saliva dribbled down his chin as he stared at me with a dazed expression. “Dally ges bru-bles-guuu?” he babbled incoherently before he began weeping when his adrenalin faded, and the pain kicked in...

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First Previous

It is said that in ancient times coal miners would take a canary with them into the mines. It was a crude and cruel way to test the air underground. If the air was breathable, the canary would continue to chirp. If the chirping stopped, the miners would evacuate immediately.

Captain Mumford felt like she understood the coal miners perspective as her crew kept a careful watch on their own canary pinging in the distance and hoping that they could mine even a little usable information for the UTS Admiralty. Her and her crew were subject to the needs of the UTS Navy and the canary they had sent out was expendable.

Not the most ideal situation, but necessary under the current circumstances.

"5 minutes ma'am".

Captain Mumford nodded silently, not really listening to the weapons officer. The last four attempts to lure the Mimics had failed as well.

"I believe that eliminates communications." The comms officer commented.

"Unless you have pen and paper handy." Captain Mumford replied dryly.

"No ma'am." The comms officer sang in a relieved tone.

"Weaps, go ahead and power down the probe for now. We'll start agin in a few minutes."

"Aye, aye ma'am, powering down."

Of all the systems a vessel carried, communications equipment seemed like a juicy worm for their dangerous and elusive fish. The mimics wanted to talk after all. So if comms wasn't what drew them in, what was? Captain Mumford picked up her coffee cup but found that she had emptied it already. She looked into her cup forlorn for a moment before standing up and heading for her ready room to fetch another cup.

"Anyone else want some coffee?" She asked, not expecting an answer.

"What. Is. Cof-fee?"

In that moment she didn't require another cup, the fear that had run down her spine was enough to put all her senses at full alert. She spun around furiously to face her crew, and seeing every eye looking back at her curiously, the same alarm evident in all of their faces.

"Weaps?"

The Weapons officer jerked back to his station.

"Running diagnostic ma'am."

"What. Is. Cof-fee?"

Captain Mumford summoned her courage and willed herself to speak.

"Its a beverage that we consume to stay awake, we also drink it recreationally."

A moment of silence was allowed to pass, and another in anticipation of a reply to the explanation. The only sound was the weapons officer tapping on his panel as he ran the diagnostic.

"Who are you?"

Perhaps not the best question to ask at the time Captain Mumford thought, but not the worst.

"You. Call. Us. Mim-mics. Why?"

Even covered, the hairs on Captain Mumfords arms stood up.

"If you're not mimics, than what are you?"

"Ma'am, diagnostic comple..."

"Yes. We. Are. At. Your. Probe."

"You know what it is?"

"We. Are. Aware."

Captain Mumford shot a glance at the weapons officer who nodded back in affirmation.

"How did you come by that information?" She asked while walking over to the weapons station.

The diagnostic was complete, no errors detected, no life signs in or around the probe were observed, no additional hardware, software, or unknown programming had been found. It was clean as the moment it had been fired from the torpedo bay.

"Un-nit-ted. Ter-ran. Sys-stems Ves-sel. Pier-re."

"The first vessel you took."

"Not. Tak-ken. Joined. No. Long-ger. Alone."

Captain Mumford willed her trepidation back and summoned a calm demeanor. She had one chance to do this correctly, and even though she might not live through it, she had to try. Thinking back to her childhood she tried to remember her father's lessons and adjusted the phrasing of his questions to suit her own.

"Why do you speak like that?"

"We. Only. Want. To. Talk."

"There it is again. You have trouble with multi-syllabic words, but you can say 'Alone' and 'Only' without the same degree of difficulty."

"You. Talk. Like. This. First."

"When did we talk like this?"

"First. Even. Now. You. Talk. Like. This."

"We don't stop at the end of each word."

"You. Pause. Space. Bet-tween. Each. Word."

"The pause between each word is to identify the words and pronounce them correctly." Captain Mumford said, remembering her own father's advice. "Otherwise the communication is unintelligible."

Silence filled the bridge like water, drowning out all thought and word.

"Is this bet-ter"

The thought that she had erred and allowed the Mimics a way to infiltrate Humanity occurred to her but she forced the thought aside. As far as she could tell, her crew had not been infected based off the observations of her lost away team and the recordings from the Vagabond.

"Much better," she said calmly, "I am curious however, you never answered my questions."

"Cur-reeeeee oooous."

Captain Mumford froze in shock for a moment. That was the first time the mimics had ever attempted to use vowels in such a way. Had they been able to adjust their speech pattern based off previous encounters or had it all been her doing?

"Curious, yes."

"Prime. Iden-ntif-fied. In. Word."

"Prime?"

"AAAAA EEEEE IIIII OOOOO UUUUU. Prime."

"Vowels?"

"Prime is voooooo-weeee-ls."

"What are primes?"

"AAAAA EEEEE IIIII OOOOO UUUUU. Prime."

"Ma'am," the comms officer said slowly approaching her, "In Latin, the letter 'U' was written as 'V' and 'I' Was also a number. 'V' was five and 'I' was one."

Was it really that simple?

"Can you say two?" Captain Mumford asked.

"AAAAA"

"And five?"

"IIIIII"

"Prime numbers. 2, 3, 5, 7, 11"

"AAAAA EEEEE IIIII OOOOO UUUUU"

"The mimics detected our vowels, confused them with prime numbers, and thought we were trying to communicate."

"We just want to talk."

"Why did you take our people?" Captain Mumford asked.

"We did not take. One of us. No lon-nger alone."

"What does that mean?"

"Hum-mans ex-xist, mim-mics ex-xist, tog-get-her."

"How?"

"In-side."

"Inside what?"

"Inside you." The comms officer said tilting her head at an odd angle.

"One of us now."

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Chapter 103

I was ready for the worst possible outcome, but I wasn't able to run toward the problem. I was struggling with the black pieces in my hands and didn't dare to let them fall to the ground. At the same time I wanted to find out what happened, so I forced myself to sit down on the ground, interlock my four hands together around the crystals and then use my possession skill to look at the trouble that had caused my girls to act out.

The dangers were severe, but it wasn't life threatening. There were about fifty orcs that had spawned in and were now engaging in a battle with my forces. A quick look around, and I found some goblins shooting at my girls from some distance. Cowards, in my opinion, but maybe I was one too for not engaging with my actual body.

I released my summon and woke up. The shock made me almost drop the black crystals in my hands, but I managed to prevent it.

A few minutes later, the fight was over. After some thinking, I decided to spread my girls evenly throughout the city in strategically advantageous places. I wanted them to observe properly what was happening and then clean up the trash.

I picked one of the pieces in my hands and threw it on the ground. A few girls reacted, and I could confirm that just one of these crystals spawned a few monsters in one go. About eight of them, to be precise.

I tried to understand what the crystals were, only to get no answer out of them. All I could say was that they spawned monsters. I mused that the stone I had brought in had forced the three structures here to pop out of the ground, making them visible to me.

Then, I remembered my chemistry classes in school. Our teacher had explained to us that smoke was actually a solid, not a gas. I looked at these crystals and remembered how monsters spawned from smoke. Could these be the concentrated version of that smoke?

I tried to make sense of what I was learning at that moment. One of the questions was actually how my system played into this situation.

I tried to understand how the dungeon worked but could only speculate that the effects of these structures were somehow limited by my dungeon difficulty settings. Now that I had triggered this event, the limitations were lifted, but at the same time, "Gaia's mercy" prevented it from overwhelming me. The small crystals here didn't simply dissolve and created as many monsters as possible in one go.

In its own way, it was a merciful event. Instead of getting crushed by the monsters inside, I could slowly reduce their numbers without putting myself in too much danger.

We managed to kill the monsters that were taking the space in my hands, freeing me from this accidental emergency.

During this process, I noticed a few details about the black crystals. They were unbreakable, but the moment they touched something, be it the ground, the wall of a hut, or even a plant, they would dissolve and release the monsters inside. The only exception was the touch of other crystals or my fingers.

As for their indestructibility, I even tried to bite into one, just to almost break my teeth on that thing. There were not even bite marks on that thing after chewing on that thing for a while. I didn't dare to try and eat it as these pieces were about as small as a pinky, also thinner, and had a surprisingly pointy end on both sides. I feared that if I were to swallow one of them, then the crystal might start to wander around in my body instead of finding the exit the normal way.

I looked at the construct at the center of the city and realized that it was definitely not stable. A mild wind or a passing monster could accidentally cause its collapse. At the same time, I was not in a position where I  could stabilize it.

I was almost as big as the average adult man of this world, and that spiraling wave had me beat by at least two body lengths. One wrong move and the thing would break apart and cause me much trouble. It was definitely the crapiest Jenga tower of my life.

I knew I could not start from the bottom or middle, nor could I afford to accidentally let parts of it crumble. I had to pick the pieces from the top, which created its own set of problems.

There was nothing around it that could support me in that task, so I had to find that something or build it.

I tried to find a stable foundation, and for a short amount of time, I thought I had it. A bunch of crates were stacked against multiple houses. I didn't even care what was inside of it, I only needed them for the support. Unfortunately, I quickly found out that those crates were not built uniformly, which caused my first construction to be wobbly.

We decided to strengthen that construction with the bones used in one of the huts nearby. Since those bones were used as the main structure of the hut, this meant that we had to destroy the hut.

All this took almost three hours to do. I could not allow this to cause a collapse of the crystalline structure, so precautions were necessary. I even used the leather of the hut as additional safety on the construction by nailing it to the ground and wrapping it over the structurally weak places. The nails actually were screws from my engineer job and had become as big as stakes at the current tier.

I carefully picked up a few pieces from the top and felt relieved that the entire thing didn't simply crumble down.Then I told my girls to prepare themselves. Ambushes, confrontations, advantageous placement. They could choose for themselves what to do. I tossed the few pieces I had to the ground, far away from me, and waited for the response.

I didn't even need to wait for the reactions. Not too far from me, a small goblin spawned and started his patrol. I saw him, but he didn't notice me.

I was about to ask for help or even climb down from my boxes when he got too close to one of the huts there. I could feel how a few of my girls had been waiting inside that hut. All I could see was how a hand suddenly came out of one of the windows of it, grabbed the goblin under its chin, and yanked it inside. The poor thing tried to scream, but all I could hear was gagged noises before it died. Agent 47 would be proud of that.

It didn't take even one minute to kill all the monsters that had spawned. I realized I was taking too long to kill them. It wasn't the fighting that was slow. It was me with the careful picking of the pieces that caused this to be unnecessarily long.

I grabbed a handful of them, and then an idea struck me. Why not create a castle defense scenario. Show these green skins how to properly defend the city.

What followed was the complete dismantling of every infrastructure of the city, creating proper defensive walls and a simple ramp that let monsters leave the city but not return. It took us about two days to do so. Everything was being prepared for a great castle defense battle.

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Clashes of metal rang throughout the smithy. Each strike of the hammer shaped or pushed material to where he wanted it to be, his mana travelling through the thin channels etched into his instruments. It kept the high-quality iron hot for much longer than it would be otherwise. Sparks kicked up, the glowing flecks being launched into the air from the surrounding impacts.

Blacksmithing was cathartic for Makis—always had been. Something about channelling the Flame burning under his scales, the heat flowing into his craft, and how he forced change upon what was normally so unyielding felt right. It was rare for him to work on anything more than standard metals nowadays, yet he found himself hammering into some of the tougher stock he had on hand. The absence of many common impurities made the fourth-grade ingot especially resistant to his efforts, but that was the reason he requested Earth-infused iron from Trent to begin with. Third grade or better would’ve put up more of a fight, and the result would’ve been stronger for it, but making anything out of the stuff would require far more mana.

The blacksmith lifted the shovel head he was working on, drawing the residual Flame from the material to rapidly cool it down. Bright orange metal shifted to a deep red, then to dark grey until he got around to polishing. There was still work to be done before he got around to that, though.

He laid the project alongside the other mostly finished tool replacements and closed off the forge, feeling the temperature in the smithy start to drop. The mana lingering in the air was drawn in to help the process along. Any excess was burned off by a brief but potent fire on his fingertips—a trick he tried not to use around others too often. He let his gaze sweep over the equipment to make sure everything was where it needed to be for when he picked the project back up, but nothing seemed too out of place. That's not to say it looked organized by any means, but he wouldn't be blindly groping around at least.

A reluctant sigh disguised itself as a heavy exhalation through his snout. He might’ve been getting a little too used to having the girl around to clean up after him. She did a good job of it, honestly. Everything had a place near other items like it, and nothing was shagged off behind a table because it got tossed haphazardly. The slight mess made him feel even guiltier for taking her to do those deliveries—more so now, considering the thought that reminded him was about how convenient she was.

Makis shook his head, trying not to dwell on things he couldn't change. He had made assumptions and subsequently got bitten in the arse for it. Nothing new about that, though he didn’t catch himself thinking about his regular screw-ups so relentlessly either. He supposed he deserved it. The girl had come out of the whole disaster far worse than he did. Regardless, he had other things to occupy his time, like the one part of his recent routine that was still underway despite everything.

“Nuttin’?” Makis asked dryly, abandoning the benches by the forge to head towards the red-eyed gaze staring at something on the ground.

Hoppit blinked, breaking concentration to look over at the blacksmith. The flattened ears said enough about any prospective progress.

“S’alright,” he sighed out, returning to his stool next to the rabbit and plucking up a bit of copper to fiddle with. “Ain’t no point’n rushin’ it. Not like I’m pressurin’ ya ta do more than ya are.”

That wasn’t necessarily true. Having a critter like Hoppit to help out at the smithy was an idea that he had kicked around, but bringing that up might just screw with whatever immeasurable headway was being made. It was a decent enough plan if the ferrorabbit had any control over his affinity, but the determined little shit still hadn’t shown much progress in that regard, nor had he shown signs of an awakening in the first place. Well, he did, but the red-scaled kobold still wasn’t sure what to make of the fleeting display.

It was only a fraction of a second, but the critter had been on the cusp of truly grasping his affinity when his hind foot slammed into the dirt a few days ago. The subtle tremor in the ground had set the blacksmith on edge, though nothing came of it, thankfully. Especially so, if Hoppit's overall mana pool was as large as Makis suspected it might be. There were worse potential outcomes than a tantrum being a little loud—far worse, seeing as the ferrorabbit had come charging out of the grass and saw the girl he smothered all passed out and cut to high hells. It was fortunate that Hoppit didn't grip his Element at full force right then and there.

Regardless of how badly someone might want to finally use their affinity, there was a reason elderly kobold bothered with the tedious process of guiding his rabbits through a series of progressively more difficult tasks. Anger or distress was a potent method for brute-forcing an awakening, but that also came with a few risks—the least of which being an uncontrolled discharge of mana. That could be problematic, depending on what the person was trying to do at the moment. Apparently, Hoppit only wanted to communicate how ticked off he was at seeing his owner in such a state, which was better than if he attempted anything in particular, so the Thump just came out as a more potent version of the base ability. If something else had crossed his mind instead, the girl would’ve been in trouble as much as anyone. Makis had seen what the little bastards could do when they were really trying to hurt someone.

Hells, it was half the reason he raised them. Having a few dozen sentries to skewer predatory wildlife made leaving his sons and daughters to wander around the property unattended much less stressful.

Unfortunately, his wry smirk at the memory faded as his mind went back to the bundle of trouble in question. Instead of working to manipulate soil or minerals, his most recent ‘student’ had mostly ignored the pan of dirt and metals in front of him, choosing to all but scowl at a hunk of rust that had fallen off a workbench at some point. Whenever he wasn’t at that, he was watching the elder kobold with unerring dedication, like there was a secret to hammering hot iron that would somehow help him push mud around. It’d be unsettling if Makis hadn’t raised dozens of the critters over as many years. More than a few of them found blacksmith work interesting, and some of those ended up regularly helping around the forge when they felt like it or if enough treats were involved. That said, he didn’t quite get the impression that Hoppit was watching out of interest, so much as he was observing something specific. The smith couldn’t put a claw on why it came off that way, though. Not that mulling it over did any good.

It was just the two of them in the workshop today—same as yesterday and the day before. The girl hadn’t left the shed since he dropped her off the other evening, but the rabbit continued to show up right on time, acting like it was perfectly normal to arrive unescorted and covered in dirt like he’d just upended the entire forest. Makis wanted to head out and make sure nothing had happened to his helper, but Hoppit got testy when he tried to make his way there, which told him that the girl was at least doing okay. As stubborn as ferrorabbits might be, they had enough sense to grab help if it was needed, so he tried to settle his nerves by reassuring himself that he'd have an Earth-aligned racket on his hands if something wasn't right. Hopefully, anyway.

Time passed quietly as he turned scraps into various crude artworks, his company adamantly trying to melt old iron with a stern gaze alone. He supposed he'd have to step in at some point; there was only so long he could reasonably let Hoppit discover the ‘wonders’ of rust. Makis opened his mouth, about to go over another lesson to see how well his student followed along, but when he looked down at the critter, all he saw was two red balls of curiosity staring a hole through the copper in his hand. A pair of silvery ears perked up before the smith could question anything, and Hoppit started focusing on the pan with renewed interest.

He could only settle back into his seat and keep an eye out for any potential breakthroughs. His fingers went back to idly moulding copper into random shapes as he tried not to worry too much about the fragile thing hiding away in the garden shed.

Flame moved from his chest, through his arms, past his fingers, then into the orange metal as he distracted himself from the results of his mistake. The mana was siphoned out to set the shape before it was pushed back in for the next adjustment. He felt the changes happen to the material, the rudimentary domain bending what it encompassed to his will. It was an advanced technique, yet one he drilled regularly. Most of his kids couldn’t quite get a handle on it through his explanations, but he figured it might’ve been because none of them had a Flame alignment like he did. Still, he remembered their frustrated expressions as they tried to copy him with their weak affinities, then their offe...

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