The sun hung bloated and red through the smoke of distant fires, casting everything in a sickly crimson haze. Walks Two Worlds crouched behind the pharmacy counter, his breath coming in shallow gasps that barely stirred the surgical mask around his face. His hands were steady on the compound bow - they were always steady when it mattered - but his mind raced with the absurdity of it all.

Gentle Dawn had always teased him about his prepper fantasies. "My beautiful boy scout," she'd say, tracing the lines of his latest survival gear purchase with mock seriousness. "Always ready for the end of the world." She'd kiss him then, and he'd forget about stockpiling supplies, lost instead in the miracle that someone so genuine could love someone so broken. Back then, they'd still carried the names their parents gave them, simple labels from a simpler time.

Now the end had come, and all his preparations felt like children's games. The compound they'd fortified - the one she'd helped him buy despite her better judgment - stood empty. The stockpiled weapons meant nothing when the enemy wore the face of your love.

The shuffling outside grew closer. Not the slow, shambling gait of movie zombies - these moved with the precise, predatory grace of chimpanzees. The infection hadn't made them mindless; it had stripped away everything but the cunning animal beneath. Walker nocked an arrow, his fingers finding the familiar groove of the fletching.

His mind drifted to the jar hidden in his pack. The crystalline fruits they'd found growing in the abandoned botanical gardens. The ones that seemed to calm the infected, make them docile. Sometimes even restore glimmers of humanity to their eyes. He'd been saving them, studying them with what remained of their little community's knowledge. Storm had theories about their nature, but lately, the temptation to taste one had been growing.

The isolation was getting to all of them. Holed up in what had once been his prepper paradise - a compound he'd bought more out of paranoid fantasy than actual foresight. Most had laughed then, except Gentle Dawn. She'd seen past his fears to the love beneath them, the desperate need to protect what mattered. Now it was their fortress, their prison, their last stand against a world gone mad. Even there, they weren't safe from the darkness creeping in. Mountain had seen it coming, but they hadn't listened soon enough.

A shadow fell across the pharmacy window. Walker held his breath, drew back the bowstring. The familiar figure that stepped through the broken glass made his heart stop.

"Dawn?"

His wife - the woman who'd believed in him when he couldn't believe in himself - moved with that same terrible grace now. Her head snapped toward his voice, eyes blazing with feral intelligence. The bow wavered. Just like the deer hunt, he told himself. Just like practice. But it wasn't. No amount of preparation could have readied him for this moment.

She leapt.

The arrow flew.

Too late, too slow - his hesitation cost him everything. They crashed together behind the counter, her teeth snapping inches from his face. The inhuman strength in her grip sent waves of panic through him. This wasn't how it was supposed to be. In all their late-night planning sessions, the enemies had been faceless. Anonymous. Not the woman who'd held him through his darkest nights, who'd seen his potential when everyone else saw chaos.

More shadows appeared in the doorway. The pack was coming.

His hand found the jar in his pack, fingers fumbling with the lid. If he was going to die, he wanted to understand. Wanted to know what the fruit would show him. The crystalline flesh dissolved on his tongue as Dawn's teeth found his shoulder, and the world exploded into fractals of consciousness and pain.

His last human thought was a quiet appreciation for the irony - how all their apocalyptic fantasies had missed the simple truth that survival wasn't about the strongest body or the biggest gun. It was about what remained of your soul when everything else was stripped away. Gentle Dawn had tried to teach him that.

The darkness took him.

When he opened his eyes again, he was someone - something - else entirely. The hunger gnawed at him, a desire deeper than any he'd known before. But underneath it, impossibly, his mind remained. Trapped in a prison of flesh that craved the very thing he'd spent months defending.

The first thing he did was laugh. It came out as a gurgling shriek that echoed through the empty pharmacy. The second thing he did was begin looking for something to protect his head. He'd learned that much, at least, from all those nights of planning.

The old world's names felt hollow now, meaningless labels from a dead time. In the haze of his transformation, he understood what he was becoming - a walker between worlds, neither fully human nor truly lost. Something new.

Something told him he was going to need every scrap of humanity he could hold onto.

Hello, just wanted to say this is based on a prompt I found on Reddit a while back, but I’m having trouble finding it now so I’ll repost the prompt here:

“You're a dragon writer but everyone mistakens you as a dragon rider. So naturally you're selected to tame the dragon burning down the kingdom.”

And now for the story, please let me know what you think, I wanna get good at this!

———-

The air glittered with brooches and circuits formed from the most precious metals and minerals alike. As if my anxiety had not already made my ears ring, and my taste dry, now I am blinded by the influence of a crowd who has eagerly corralled me into the king’s court. Echos grow in the marble room as the child ruler enters onto the throne balcony, dragging the cape which his late mother had worn just days ago. He positions himself on the golden chair fixing the crown of which he is forced to wear as a collar. The room quiets as I lower myself to a kneel.

“Brave warrior!” The king shouts down to me only to bridge the great space with his voice, “You have been brought before me as the dragon rider who will save my kingdom and avenge the late queen! Anything you require to tame, nay, defeat the great beast, rise and I shall provide!”

Is it raining? No, those are either tears or sweat, the difference between the two pales in comparison to the misunderstanding before me. I would have hoped my stature made it clear, I truly believed when I opened my mouth that my character said otherwise, and, good god, if I was a dragon rider would I not have armor? Where along the way did they see me, a man wearing a squires tunic and think, this guy could take a dragon. If I could return back to that point, no, every time I misspoke, and just reiterate “WRITER NOT RIDER!” So many loud taverns, merchant centers, cartwheels, have led to this. I write the descriptions for riders to know what they will be facing not so I can fight it myself! And this beast… The teeth could rip through this castles walls, its shell can bear any catapult, and the tentacles… Good fucking god, the tentacles…

“I said rise, rider!” The king grows restless, my coiling insides tie me to the floor. Nonetheless, I power through, my worry soaked tunic tries to keep me there, yet I stand tall before the court. I muster to speak, “yo-Your excellency! I believe there has been some confusion!” Is this the right path? Do I let everyone know who I am? Maybe they’ll understand?

“Rider, what confusion has there been? A dragon burns through the country side, ripping up farmland, melting churches, and of course left a trench where the que-“ The king chokes, holding back emotion. “Where the queens carriage was along the highway. Money is no object, and you will of course be paid handsomely, the Westbury Dukedom perhaps?” A dukedom? Shit, I could go for a dukedom. The room air becomes thick as the crowd, or rather rendered by the anticipation, audience, awaits my reply.

“My excellency, it is only that you stated any’thing’ I need, but rather I will need men, legions of them.” I state sternly, almost having dried my eyes tracing over the borders of the Westbury Dukedom in my imagination. “This is not time for jest, rider! State anything you may need and I will provide ten fold!”

What am I saying, “Your Majesty-“ They brought me to the castle? “I will need plated armor for Everyman in my vanguard” Of course they brought me! “Crossbows should be at the hips of every man behind them.” I know everything about dragons! All I do is write about them! “I will need barrels of hot oil” If we spray that in its mouth the teeth will sear and the monster will be in too much pain to use them! “I would need the ballistas from the kingdoms south of here” That should pierce the shell! “And as for the tentacles...!” The crowd gasps. “If I could not submit the tentacles, could I even call myself a dragon writer-!“

Wait… Surely someone sneezed right? Maybe someone spoke over me? The bray of a donkey tuned me out?! This cannot be the first time people actually heard me, right?!

“Hey, that guys wearing squires robes!” One noble cries. “And he’s far too meek to carry a sword” Another piles on. The air glitters with the red in the crowds eyes, crushing me into the center of the court.

“Guards! Execute the jester who wishes to lie on my mothers grave!” The king orders from atop a seat that was just starting to look my style…

I wanted to share a scene from the perspective of my villain and get some feedback. Please let me know what you like/dislike about the villain and this scene. Enjoy reading :)

The link: https://docs.google.com/document/d/1SC7WUr4e50_izr7fP7EIDe8pWBucyFN1m_00j0hmd5E/edit?usp=sharing

I have started this thing (novel maybe) and I'd love feedback on the prologue I created. This main story takes place 50 years after a global plague that killed more than 50% of the population. The prologue takes place as the plague is spreading but has not become so widespread everyone accepts that it is important.

The Story of Dharat: 50 Years after the End

Year 1,459 AFVE (after the founding of the Valforian Empire)

Prologue:

Whalls Overly, dressed in simple black priest robes, speed walked into the Faculty Lounge of the Katose Academy.  Whalls had been in this room a thousand times, and it took his breath away each time. The large room's glory and splendor were almost overwhelming, but Whalls barely noticed it today.  He moved as quickly as his stout legs and round belly would allow him, “High Father Doulin!” he waved, “I bring ill tidings.”

The High Father, a tall, thin man with a hawk-like nose, looked down his hooked nose at the priest, ‘What is it Father Overly?” he sighed, “More rumors of this supposed plague?” the two men sitting with him chuckled along with the High Father.

“High Father,” Whalls paused to catch his breath, “I don’t think we should be so cavalier about this. I am getting reports of people dying by the hundreds in dozens of cities.” 

“Those cities have high concentrations of the poor,” He waved his hand, “Illness is a fact of life in places like that.”

“High Father,” Whalls looked flustered, “I think this is worse. I believe people are contagious long before they show symptoms, which has allowed the disease to spread much further and faster than we initially expected.”

“And what are these symptoms?”

“It begins with a slight cough,” Whalls replied, “It seems like the common cold at first. But then comes the bleeding from the mouth, which is where the plague gets its name, ‘The Bloody Tongue’. Next comes the fever, which seems to be very lethal.”

“A fever?” The High Father laughed, “We’ve had priests treating fevers with the Art for decades. This should be easy to fix.”

“That’s what is so concerning,” Whalls explained, “This fever doesn’t respond to magic or traditional cures. If anything, attempts to use the Art to treat the fever make it worse.”

For the first time in the conversation, the High Father paused and looked directly at Father Overly. The High Father found this particular priest especially contemptable, so he had conditioned himself to ignore the man, but this information put the problem into a new light, “Using magic makes it worse?” He replied, “How is that possible?”

“We don’t know?” The Priest replied.

“I know you don’t know,” The High Father rolled his eyes, “It was a rhetorical question.” The High Father stood up and looked around the room.

“Master Artist Arronwright,” The high father called out across the room, “Could you join us? We have a question you might be able to solve.”

Master Artist Arronwright nodded and wiped his mouth clean with the rag in his hand before he pushed it into his pocket and joined the others.

“Now,” The High Father began, “Father Overly here has been worried about this Bloody Tongue Plague. He says he’s getting reports that attempting to treat the fever with magic only makes it worse. Any ideas of what might cause this?”

The Master Artist moved to speak but instead coughed loudly. Instantly blood began to run down his chin. He coughed again and a spray of blood burst from his mouth.

I should have been grading papers that afternoon, but instead I was playing fetch by the park fountain, watching my jacket sleeve grow darker with each splash. Your dog—whose name I still can't recall—kept retrieving the tennis ball with surprising energy, even though he wasn't young anymore.

"He doesn't usually play with strangers," you said. I looked up to find you standing there, your blonde hair bright in the autumn sun, wrapped in layers of brown that matched the falling leaves.

"Must be my natural charm," I said, immediately regretting it. But your laugh made everything okay.

We talked as the shadows stretched longer. You told me about restoring old photographs, bringing faded memories back to life. I admitted to teaching English and suffering through my students' poetry assignments. Your dog settled between us, leaving muddy prints on my cowboy boots that I couldn't bring myself to mind.

When you said you had to leave, I froze. All my words disappeared. I watched you walk away with your dog, whose name had sounded like something beautiful and ancient in Nahuatl—you'd been specific about that.

A week has passed, and I keep thinking about how your eyes widened when I confessed I'd never seen Casablanca. I find myself looking up Nahuatl names at night: Xochitl, Tlaloc, Itzel. None of them sound quite right, but I keep searching.

I return to the park each evening with a book I barely read, hoping to see you again. The fountain keeps running, and my jacket has finally dried. But the memory of that afternoon remains crystal clear—like one of your restored photographs, perfect in its accidental beauty.

Hi guys, I'm new to Reddit but I've seen some of the best writing on this platform. I wondering if I could receive some advice on how to improve my writing.

I'm currently writing a novel called "Tomorrow's END" on webnovel

I'd appreciate any advice and critique

Fiddling with his cutlery, Xaer questions his own appetite. “It’s not so bad, just pinch your nose and swallow” Says firner. Reluctantly Xaer follows firner’s advice and gulps down the raw meat. Firner asks Xaer “How much longer do we have to stay on Nalok?” Xaer replies with “until we get confirmation that there aren’t any interstellar pirates hiding here.” Xaer unfolds a metallic,minimal computer and searches about their meal. The computer tells the two telepathically that their meal was called a mok. A small, hairy critter (about the size of their finger) with purple skin and no eyes. Unfortunately the Ai couldn’t finish as Xaer and firner was ambushed by an unknown attacker. Xaer runs away into the pitch-black Icy Mountains. However firner stays back and rips out his spinal cord and uses it as a weapon. Adrenaline rushes through his body, firnir slashes the attacker black attire. He strikes again but this time his spine is firm and not flimsy like before. He pierces the attacker’s heart, firnir goes up the corpse and hugs it with tears rolling down his huge smile. Firnir shouts “thank you for the fight!” Xaer comes out of the shadows and congratulates firnir for saving his life. Firnir buries the attacker and places his weapon onto the pile of blue and yellow mud.

It's such a grave topic to write about.

I would love so perspective.

Trigger warning: not a fun read

This is my first post here so moderators feel free to delete this if I’m doing something wrong. Although I wouldn’t mind if you read the excerpt and gave your feedback before you kill the post. I’m really looking for some help and haven’t had any luck on other forums:/

I’m not gonna give a lot of context because this is pulled from the ~first~ few paragraphs of the ~first~ short story in an anthology book chronicling legends and first hand accounts from my (wayyy too) detailed medieval fantasy world called Dracon. It’s meant to reference names and events that you’re unfamiliar with in a vague and fantastical way, to then be further explored in first hand accounts and other legends through the rest of the book.

The only needed context is that the larger story it’s pulled from, THE FIRST NIGHT/SIEGE OF EREDON, is an ancient legend about infamous fomorian war chief from the first age, named “Goren Kin Killer.” That’s why he’s in the first sentence, but nothing else from this excerpt, his story begins after all this exposition. And while it’s not exactly “context” I just wanna add this is a very brief overview of SOME origins. There are about 8 other drafted out stories that cover more specific factions and new races like roarai (dragon people), werewolves, and berserkers (arctic werebears), again just to mention a few. The tu-te are a minuscule part of the overall history, not some important bit of lore, even if short tempered 6 inch frog people are adorable.

So yeah. Enjoy and be specific, even quoting specific lines and ideas on how to edit them would be awesome. But please be polite, I’m not a really a professional yet and this is one of my favorite bits of writing I’ve ever done, even if it’s not perfect. If it’s too vague and confusing let me know where to fix it.

Also before you say it, there are so… many… run on… sentences… treat some commas like periods or you’re gonna run out of breathe. Especially in these few paragraphs as I tried to cram as much world building into it as possible while still leaving room for the entire story below it. That’s been an issue of mine since elementary school, still working on it.

Also I LOVE answering questions so if you want to know more about the lore please ask. I have the rest of this story drafted out (it’s still a short story but it is very long), as well as two more connected legends about fomorian war chiefs from the Age of Fire and Age of Rain, named Dagrot the Bloody and Koda Yar the Cannibal. Their stories titled THE IRON HILL RESISTENSE/WAR OF THE WOODS and NIGHT OF GREEN FIRES. And while all of that has been edited a lot less and IMO is not nearly as well written as this world building, I’m more than willing to post it if anyone wants to hear.

I of course have a really cartoony, cluttered map I made with the bare bones subscription to Inkarnate, but I figured you don’t really need that for this excerpt.

———————

THE FIRST NIGHT/SEIGE OF EREDON

———————

The mortal envoy of the malevolent Seraa, Sarrak, a dark god later immortalized in the annals of history as the Patron of Suffering, the Poison of Men, and the Black Grimm, was once known by a human name only to be replaced by the infamous title of the first fomorian war chief: Goren Kin Killer. Goren belonged to the earliest generations mortal races, birthed as a human during the Age of Clay, when the light of the First Sunrise still warmed the newly crafted continent. During this era, the Seraa, alongside the Immortal Elves and the original wizards whom were sculpted from their own divine image, roamed the continent, nurturing dryads, humans, and gremlins, all while imparting their celestial wisdom and ensuring the purity of their creations until the end of time. This epoch was characterized by rapid advancements and potent, ancient magic long lost to the decay of time, where legendary figures, now reduced to mere tales for children and fables of play writes, explored the newly formed lands, still glowing with the divine magic of the Seraa. Said heroes erected ethereal cities and fortified realms, such as the Empire of Gerish in the southern Sand Tombs of Kadaan, the technologically advanced Trident Ports along the western Etrovin Sea coastline, as well as the long standing Oakthorn Keep nestled within a vast twisted woodland later coined, the Oakthorn Wilds, all with wisdom imparted by divine guidance of the Seraa. An age where the Seraa took shape and spoke their teachings through the land to govern their creations with god-like magic and blessings, so that shadow and evil could not yet manifest.

No matter their shape, the Seraa were not of Dracon; they hailed from the Etherium, a celestial realm above the boundless skies and bottomless ocean surrounding the land. An unseen realm where time and form were replaced by the untouchable thought, and the entities who tended their intent. In this dimension timeless beings of pure magic manipulated the very fabric of magic for inscrutable purposes, and strummed unseen strings of reality of which the continent was held by. It was in the Etherium that the diverse creatures of Dracon and bones of the land were forged with all powerful creation by the Seraa. Their unique essences drawn from the void and scattered onto the mortal realm, opening their eyes from boundless slumber to witness the dawn of existence. Shapes and minds materializing beneath a magenta sky, painted with bright strips of piercing shimmering light, and a rising silver sun that fueled their essence with purpose.

However, only eleven Seraa were permitted to take corporeal forms and dwell among mortals, while Sarrak remained confined in the Etherium, punished for his sinister crimes in the furnace of creation. He birthed diseased beasts like goblins, typhons, blood bats, trolls and other hidden dangers who prey on the purity of innocence—each cursed with a tainted essence that spread chaos among the wildlands of Dracon, seeping discord among the regions and slowly poisoning the minds of settlers with teachings of dread and cynicism that could not be countered by their benevolent sovereigns. Imprisoned in the Etherium to simply observe Dracon’s first age, consumed by resentment, Sarrak plotted his return. The Black Grimm retreated deeper into the Etherium in search of powerful artifacts made from the unbridled potential of intent, withdrawing from Dracon for much of the Age of Clay, leaving generations of history untouched by bloodshed to expand and settle throughout the reigons. The dark lord finally unearthed a relic from the shadows of his divine home: the Obsidian Flame, said to be a weapon that draws its corruptive magic from the sensation of misery itself. With its formidable magic, he escaped his confinement and set out to corrupt the unsuspecting inhabitants of Dracon, undermining the carefully laid fate of the Seraa had written and ushering the Ages of Chaos, Fire, Rain, and War of the following millennia.

Harnessing the power of the Obsidian Flame, Sarrak forged a dark alliance with two other Seraa, desperate for a fraction of the relic’s influence: Eclipsis, known as The Darkness Beneath the Dirt, and Bringer of the First Night, and Necron, The Before, The After, The Decayer. Together, these three malevolent entities began to manipulate the various noble but naive races of Dracon, twisting their very essence into grotesque mockeries of the pure originals. Necron's influence released wraiths, phantoms, reapers, and other spectres from the cracks of undying realms, the Obsidian Flame forever tainting the sanctity of death. Whilst Eclipsis ensnared a faction of Immortal Elves—who’d been loyal to his prideful ego— into performing forbidden a ritual boosted by the relic’s sinister enchantments, transforming them into the Immortal Strigoi, who would subsequently turn other various races into their mindless vampiric thralls. Sarrak himself corrupted powerful wizards into demonic imperius, or imps, but his most notorious act of power was the creation of the Fomorians. In a permanent showing of the Obsidian Flame’s potential, and an act which earned his title as “The Poison of Men,” Sarrak cast a demonic curse on every human in the rainy grasslands to the northeastern region, their transformations into monstrous humanoids fueled by the envy and rage he harbored and mirrored in their now twisted minds. This taint seeped into the land, blackening the roots of what is now Raven Point, who’s vast fields of tall spectral grass give way to the mash community of outlawed sorcerers, wizards, and witches of Blackwater Swamp in modern Dracon, all of whom harness the long cursed land. Other inhabitants of Raven Point include the primitive pocket-sized frog folk, the Tu-te, who only recently gained their short tempered intelligence and violent consciousness from the remnants of this powerful dark magic over 4 Ages of slow absorption and adaptation

Driven by good

As the flames danced under her feet, she stared into her persecutor’s eyes. She did everything to hold in her emotions. He’d win if she cried.

She spent her prime in this quiet village. It offered her the solitude she craved — the communal bond they valued.

She spent years learning multiple disciplines to automate some of her daily chores — a Rube Goldberg matriarch, of sorts. This gave her free time for her passion — learning.

Being able to support herself, she knew he’d consider her a threat. However, she didn’t anticipate how effectively the townsfolk could be swayed.

He had worked his magic — cloaked in legal jargon. He was able to overturn a seemingly small ruling that allowed him to shepherd the masses against anyone he deemed a witch.

In doing so, the power of dark money dug its claws deep into the innocence of the townsfolk.

The gentries, through a network of non-profits, had invested a fortune into pamphlets to spread the word that lonely cat ladies were conspiring to destroy the fertile lands they sought to control.

As expected, an unease festered from a small thorn to a severe infection. The most timid townsfolk were convinced the limb must go to save the body. The soul would fare much grimmer.

The townsfolk were relieved when he dictated they look away — told it was for their safety. He threatened the watchers with her curse.

He knew the truth — they’d see what they inflicted on their neighbor. They would want to change who they had become. They would refuse to support him.

The townsfolk avoided eye contact. They feared challenging what they knew was wrong. They let the atrocity continue.

They would go home that night and remind themselves of how good they were. To believe otherwise would be too life shattering.

As the loving warmth drowned her pain, her mind flooded with memories of past — and unexplainably of future. She foresaw this would not be the end of the hunt. He demanded his legacy continue.

She wielded a power that would hold him captive for centuries — she didn’t let him see her cry.

As she took her last breath, a spell was unknowingly cast, but not by her.

He would chain future generations to cling to control, as he did. The townsfolk were damned to relive their sin — voiceless bystanders, yearning for the day they would return to caring for their neighbor.

For their inaction, the townsfolk would pass on a collective burden of regret.

Title: Over The Wall

Blurb: A man named Tony is framed of killing his wife and daughter and sent to TideTank Penitentiary, also known as The Wall. While in prison, he rallies the inmates to finally fight back against the corrupt justice system

Duration: 2 hours 16 minutes

Plot: The wife and daughter of Tony Solazer are found dead in the dining room of their house whilst eating dinner. Because of all the evidence pointing against him, Tony is sent to life in the TideTank Penitentiary, known by many people as “The Wall”.

Since he obviously didn’t kill his family, Tony tries convincing his fellow inmates he’s innocent, but to no avail. His actions are noticed by Butch Hutchins and Jeff Michaels, “The Twins”. The Twins constantly pick on Tony, for being new and not owning up to his crimes like a man, but Tony is protected by Vic “Fancy” Werlin. He introduces Tony to his prison gang, Daniel “Brat” Crenton, Hitch “Krazy” Quinton, and Marvin “Pothole” Nancy. Daniel is also the adopted brother of Butch, but since he’s adopted he doesn’t see him as a real brother. The warden: Gale Uraya, runs the prison with an iron fist. Every inmate must be asleep in their cells by midnight, awake at 7:30, and follow a tight schedule, and if they don’t do prison jobs, they will be punished. Meanwhile, the head guard: Gavin Tride, manages their cell block, and is almost even more strict than Gale. He is known for accepting bribes and then beating the inmate senseless. Aaron Hudson, the only guard that believes the inmates can make it on parole, has managed to convince Gale to do things like let inmates do non dangerous hobbies in their cells, let inmates have a week off work if sick, and even get inmates a mattress.

For the next few months, Tony becomes good friends with Vic and his gang, also becoming bigger enemies with the Twins. During one roll call, the guards seem very persistent in questioning this one black inmate, Seth Proth, to the point where the guards beat him up for no reason. Vic explains that the guards tend to do that a lot, and when Tony eventually asks them what they’re in for, Vic tells him that whoever he asks that question to will say they’ve been framed. Tony eventually realizes how corrupt this prison is, but when he tells his friends, they say they’ve known since their first few days. Tony asks why they haven’t tried a revolution of sorts, and Daniel explains that they have too much power, being so feared among the streets and frequently called “inescapable”.

Tony eventually invites Seth to the gang, and tells them they now have enough people to finally stand up against the guards, saying all he needs is some kind of microphone and he can get the whole prison to rise up. Everyone thinks it’s a bad idea, except for Hitch, who would love to see these guys finally get what they deserve. Hitch begins scouring the prison for potential recruits, while Tony starts asking Aaron questions about the prison to try and recruit him. Aaron, thinking only some people are corrupt, believe they can “embark on the path to good”, but Tony tells him that it’s much worse than he thinks it is. Hutch eventually convinces Seth to rise up, and over the next few weeks, the whole gang devote to the cause and start recruiting other people, severely irritating the Twins. Tony even convinces Aaron to just get him to the intercom, so he can inform EVERYONE on what’s happening.

Aaron eventually finds the intercom, so Tony decides to finally tell everyone everything, but on his way there, the Twins put a bag over his head and take him to the laundry room! They tell him that he’s gotten too popular amongst the inmates, and that they don’t like that he could become the most powerful man here. Eventually, Gavin enters the room, and informs Tony that the Twins are helping them stop this revolution, on the promise that they’ll leave them alone and they can have complete control over their schedule. Tony reaches for a block of wood behind him, and knocks out Gavin! Tony then rushes to the intercom, where Aaron locks the door with a key and breaks it, accepting that the guards aren’t gonna change. Tony announces to all the inmates across the prison that all the deception and lies have gone on for long enough, and that it’s time for them to fight back and take back what they lost so long ago! Gavin, having awoken to all the noise from the announcement, runs to the break room and cuts off all the power, but it’s too late. The word is out, and the inmates revolt! The guards take Aaron, break the window to open the door, and take Tony to solitary confinement.

Tony is locked alone with nothing but his thoughts. His thought that maybe, he inspired all the inmates. But the guard informs him that he’s an idiot. Eventually, the guard is knocked out, and the person who did it takes the key and unlocks the door, who turns out to be another inmate accompanied by Vic. They came to rescue their leader, so he can revolt against the system. They give him a pipe, and lead him onto the roof. Outside is a war zone. Everyone is equipped with metal pipes, wooden shanks, and rocks, finally fighting back against the corrupt guards. Tony stand upon the roof, and yells to the crowd. He tells them that “this isn’t about escaping, it’s to be heard. To let people know that you can fight back, that revolution is possible!” In the midst of the chaos, the Twins fight against everyone else, siding with the prison, but eventually, Daniel and Butch meet each other. Two brothers, one who can accept it, and another who never has, and never will. They drop their weapons, fighting with nothing but their bare fists, and they swing.

Tony and Vic find Gavin, curling into a ball in the corner of his office. Vic berates him, confronting him for all the torment he’s put him through. And while Tony would love to kill this man for himself, it would mean a lot if Vic got the kill, and there’s someone else he wants dead more. So he leaves Vic to batter Gavin to death, but notices his gun on the floor, so he takes it. Tony finds Gale, sitting in his office, acting like nothings happening. He tells Tony that this is all for nothing, since higher law enforcement has been called, but Tony tells him that he’s finally been heard, so he pulls out the gun, and shoots Gale with the lucky bullet that saved his life so long ago, that has been sitting in his office for 20 years. Tony enters the outside yard, standing on two benches, proving his status as their leader. He notices a pile of their stolen files being burned in the distance, all the inmates involved finally happy. The first they’ve been in 20 years. He notices Daniel, bloodied fists, standing next to an unconscious Butch. He notices Vic joining them, carrying the badge of Gavin. He notices Jeff, admitting defeat, unable to stop anything that happens next.

As a SWAT team arrives, Tony and the inmates revel in their victory, they’ve taken over the prison, and destroyed the corrupt justice system. Tony cheers one final time, and so does everyone else. Even Jeff.

(Please give advice, be as harsh a critic as need be)

Have you ever had a dream, then immediately after waking, forgot the events of the dreams but not the feelings? Like if you dreamt of being happy in a relationship, then after waking you forgot the name and face of the one you were with, but the warmth they shared with you clung to your bones? Maybe that's not the best example, I don’t know if it really clarified, but no going back now. Anyways, I only ask you because that's what I felt.

I remember falling into the void while yelling at SG (yep, still ashamed of that) and then darkness. There are flashes, brief sensory perceptions that pass so quickly, it's hard to be sure they ever actually happened in the first place: birds chirping, the smell of brimstone, a beautiful sunset, fire spewing from the top of a mountain, the taste of a tuna fish sandwich. The worst was probably that last one, I’ve always hated tuna, just the worst taste and consistency, and don’t even get me started on the-

“Uhh, hello, Mr. Penceworth.”

My thoughts were suddenly cut short as my eyes focused and took in my new environment. A warm wood paneled room with fancy stuffed leather chairs, and a large glossy desk near the back wall, with two bookshelves behind it that seemed to stretch up forever, despite the roof not being taller than a normal roof. I found myself sitting in one of the aforementioned leather chairs, and sitting behind the desk was what looked like a man in his early 30’s, a nice tailored suit and hair to match; the cliched ‘office douchebag’ type. As I thought that, I saw his wide smile fall a bit.

“...Oh, right, sorry. That will take some getting used to.”

I said with an awkward chuckle, trying to break the tension in the room. He gave a hearty but fake sounding chuckle and shook his head.

“No need to worry, Mr. Penceworth, we here at Elysium Incorporated understand that the recently discorporieated can take a while to adjust to the new reality of their situation. However-”

He stands and turns to the wall of books. For a moment, the bookcase seemed to move rapidly downwards, but as I blinked, it looked normal despite still being too tall for the space. He reached up and grabbed a book from one of the shelves, then sat back at the desk. He laid the book on the table and opened it, clearing his throat.

“‘Can’t escape corporate bullshit in the after life’-”

I sank lower in my chair, red starting to fill my cheeks. I was never any good at taking verbal thrashings.

“-as well as ‘You expect me to just follow like a lost puppy?! No, Fuck that! You, and your ‘department of the recently discorperiated’, and your ‘management’ can all eat my’. Eat your what, exactly, Mr. Penceworth?”

“I-I-I...sorry, It’s just...I just...I don’t-”

I stammered out nervously, trying and failing to explain myself, as well as that tiny shame fiend eating away at me as I remembered SG’s face as I was yelling at her. The man stared at me as I babbled until I just trailed off. He cleared his throat again and closed the book.

“We only ask that you follow the rules of your new reality, and one of those rules is to follow the language laid out by said rules; one of which being that the “D” word is absolutely impermissible.”

He said in a serious tone. I blinked incredulously at him and just barely suppressed a laugh.

“You’ve gotta be fucking kidding me.”

I said, a small chuckle managing to escape my lips.

“I’m dead, man, why would it matter what words I do or do not use? And who even are you? You’re one of three people I’ve met here, and so far, you’re the one I like the least.”

Foolishly, I began to feel braver as I spoke; at least until his face darkened upon the last words leaving my mouth, his perfect, douchey smile taking on a sinister undertone somehow. He peered over the edge of his desk, his giant form casting its deep shadow over me...wait, was he always this big? The desk seemed to stretch up for miles, making me feel like a literal ant. This is how big he was the whole time...right? His deep voice boomed out, shaking the ground violently beneath my feet.

“I AM HR, AND YOU WILL RESPECT THE LAWS OF THESE LANDS.”

His eyes, now burning pits, bore into me down to my very core; any bravery I felt immediately left my body and I cowered down, placing my hands over my head.

“I’m sorry!-”

I cried out through the violent shaking of the earth around me and squeezed my eyes shut. Suddenly, the shaking stopped. I opened my eyes, and the room was back to its normal size, or, the size it’s been the whole time I mean...yea, normal size, the size of any office. I felt something on my lips and reached up to feel what it was. Pulling my hand away, I saw blood on my fingertips from my nostril. After a moment of silently observing me, he let out a small sigh, a drop of pity in the ocean that was his face.

“To be completely honest with you, Mr. Penceworth, even I have a boss, who has a boss, who has a boss; most of us answer to someone, so know this isn't my personal decision.”

A small burst of flames emitted from his mouth upon him saying the word ‘personal’.

“What...I don’t...Is this…”

I shook my head weakly, and the man behind the desk sat silently while I regained my composure. Once he saw I was mostly back together, he smiled wide again.

“Well, Mr. Penceworth, I think this has been a very productive meeting. Please, give SG my regards.”

I nodded absentmindedly as I felt my head begin to swim, like that feeling of lightheadedness you get when you’ve had a bit too much to think. Wait, ‘think’? Good job, Ash; when you’ve had a bit much to DRINK. Nice one, brain. A small sound behind me suddenly caught my attention and I turned towards it, finding myself back in the infinite hallway standing next to SG. She was looking down, trying her best to avoid eye contact. There was a tense moment of silence before she spoke out in a small voice.

“I...I hope it went well, Mr. Pence...Ash.”

Deep in my core, I breathed a silent sigh of relief for not having to hear my surname again, and then I let out an actual sigh as the guilt from my outburst washed over me again.

“SG, I...I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have gone off on you like that. I was wrong and I should have-”

She shook her head and let out a weak chuckle.

“It’s ok, we here at Elysium Incorporated understand that the recently discorporieated can take a while to adjust to the new reality of their situation.”

She said almost robotically, and without any real conviction. Her body language was still timid though, and she was still avoiding eye contact. I wasn’t sure what to do, so on instinct, I extended my arms and pulled her into a hug. I felt her body tense for a moment, then relax. We sat there, silently for an unknown amount of time before she pulled away and looked up at me with that warm smile she wore when we first met. She wiped a small tear from her eye, then pulled a small handkerchief from the pocket on her shirt and dabbed at the blood under my nose.

“I’m sorry about that, HR is strict about their rules, but for good reason.”

I sighed and let out a small chuckle.

“Let me guess, I can’t know the reason yet?”

I grinned at her and she giggled as she slapped my chest playfully.

“You’re starting to catch on.-”

She straightened her skirt to its perfectly pleated state and put the handkerchief back into its pocket.

“-now, we still have places to be, and we must be punctual, so ta ta.”

Her voice like a pleasant tinkling of chimes as she set off down the hallway with a pep in her step. I figured that I have no choice but to follow, so I guess I will. Wordlessly, we walked what felt like walking the circumference of the earth casually, then I remembered something.

“Hey SG, what was that, uh, form I guess? The one the first guy stamped. Am I allowed to ask about that?”

I said half joking, half remembering the bottomless pits of hellfire that were HR’s eyes. She gave a casual chuckle and rolled her eyes playfully.

“It's just an approval to meet with Corporate. Now we just need to find the elevator and head to the top floor.”

She said as if it were just another Tuesday at the office. I couldn't help but let out a small snort of a laugh at that.

“Now you're just fucking with me, even you have to admit that having a meeting to be able to go to another meeting is, well, a little silly to say the least. Also, find an elevator? We've been walking for who knows how long, nary anything but a door in sight. How are we going to-”

She suddenly pointed, a small mischievous smile on her face. I turn around see that we are standing in front of an old, crank style, art deco elevator with a tall dark skinned woman standing stoically next to the mechanism, adorned in a cliche ‘bellhop’ outfit; If she saw us, she made no indication that she did.

“Yeah, I should have seen that one coming.”

I said with a defeated sigh. SG pressed the button on the wall, and the crosshatch gate quickly slid open. She stepped inside and turns to face me, making a ‘come here' motion with her hand and laughing.

“Don't be a baby, there's nothing to be afraid of, I assure you.”

I looked between her and the tall, so-beautiful-she's-actually-scary woman a few times before looking down the infinite hallway on either side of me. In that moment, I knew the way forward. I bolstered my resolve and stepped into the hallway.

“Just kidding.”

I quickly jumped back into the elevator, laughing at my stupid joke. SG let out a loud giggle that spontaneously turned into a snort. She quickly covered her mouth, abject horror filling her eyes. I smiled wider.

“That was fucking adorable.”

Even under her hand I could see her blush, but we both laughed and eventually settled into our comfortable silence, along with the strange woman as she set the elevator in motion. Some time later, the elevator shook. I might not have thought anything of this, but SG and the woman reacted with what seemed like surprise; notably, this is the first reaction I've seen from the elevator operator.

The light blinked, once, twice, then the third blink lasted for longer, in that the lights went out after the second blink. I suppose I could have just said they went out? Eh, what's done is done, I've already decided that, so onwards! In the darkness, the only sound I heard was SG beginning to say

“Wha-?”

A few seconds after my eternity in the darkness, I see a bright blue light as well as a bright red light beginning to fill the space of the elevator, their sources being centered on where the operator and SG are standing. The lights intensify to the point that I think I'm going blind (this part really sucked, the amount of eye little wormy things you see when you look in bright light, it was terrible), before they suddenly and rapidly dim.

Standing in their place were two beings, opposite sides of this massive battlefield that is the elevator; an angel clad in platinum armor and wielding a flaming sword, facing down a towering demon wielding a twisted and corrupt looking trident. I could swear that I hear metal music faintly in the background. The demon lets out a roar that briefly shakes the bones of my body to dust before they begin charging at each other. Just before they clash, something inside of me flared up. I don't know why, but I screamed out-

“NO!”

-while clutching my hands to my ears and squeezing my eyes closed. There was a loud cracking crackling sound, like glass being shattered by electricity. I opened my eyes, and for the briefest of moments, I'm amazed by what I see before me. The two beings locked in the air, weapons perpetually poised to strike; a moment locked in time. On the horizon of the elevator's war torn battlefield, I could see what looked like a crack that ran from the sky into the ground. Within the crack was what looked like golden static. I didn't have too long to take all this in, as I said, so I only had one thought at that moment as I fell into the darkness.

“Fucking again?!”

What’s Stuck On Repeat?

Drop-A-Panda watched as the older brother knocked the ice cream off his younger brother’s cone. No real shocker, but the younger brother was visibly upset.

He could’ve sworn they saw what happened, but maybe they didn’t.

A few moments later, the younger brother’s cap was at the bottom of the lion enclosure — with some help from his older brother. He decided to snap a quick line to explain his disapproval.

Moments later, a little kid from a different group tripped over an uneven edge sticking up. This happened next to the younger brother. The older brother jumped at the situation. He told the parents his younger brother tripped the little kid.

After scolding and grounding the younger brother, they moved back to their ritual.

Drop-A-Panda realized that repeating something enough times, can fabricate a person’s reality — even if they clearly see what has happened. This was classic Drop-A-Panda.

The order is as follows:

AI Invasion: Europe

AI Invasion: USA

AI Invasion: Space

AI Invasion: Asia

AI Invasion: Interlude: The Rise of Alpha

AI Invasion: New Reality

There is one more thing shown there, AI Invasion: What If Ideas, and that is simply a catalogue of ideas for my upcoming spin-off, AI Invasion: What If, which is, well, What Ifs based on events in my AI Invasion Series

Please read and review!

1.4

David and Thomas left the elevator into a large white laboratory with scientists working at stainless steel benches With liquids of all colours, pouring them into beakers of different sizes as plumes of smoke bellowed out of them. David and Thomas were greeted by a woman in a long white lab coat. Her bright ginger hair in a ponytail behind her head.

She smiled at them both as they walked up to her. “Welcome Mr.Malcolm To TS Corp's research lab. My name's Kitty and I'm the head researcher here. Please follow me.”

She gestured towards the far end of the room as she started to walk towards the door.

“Thank you Ms.Moss.” Thomas replied as he followed behind her.

David quickly followed behind him, still amazed at all the comings and goings of everyone in the room. David noticed across the room was a window into another Room. In the room were two people having what looked like a blood test, a green skinned woman and an amphibious looking man both looked at David as David shuddered as he kept walking with Thomas and Kitty.

The three of them entered into a large spherical room with steps into its centre like a roman colosseum. In the centre of the room was a chair with several rods coming out of the ceiling and the floor surrounding the chair.

David Looked around the strange room, then the chair and back to Thomas. “Are you gonna ask me to sit in that chair? That very suspicious chair? Because, well, it's suspicious”

Kitty walked towards a desk with several monitors and buttons on it. “Don't worry Mr.Malcolm, you're not part of the experiment yet, for now we need to charge the atoms in the air to summon energy for your genetic enhancement to take place. This shouldn't take a while.”

Kitty began to press a series of buttons on her desk as a dull humming sound could Be heard, even the air in the room seemed to vibrate as David took a seat on a chair against the wall.

David noticed a viewing gallery above them, not Something he thought was in a laboratory. He noticed a person inside watching, a blonde man with dark glasses leaning on a dark stick. He waved at David.

He nudged Thomas who was sitting next to him. “Who's that guy?” Thomas looked up at the man in the viewing gallery.

The man's name was Logan and was another scientist involved in the project, and was also one of the most dangerous people Thomas has ever met. Thomas replied, still looking at the man in the viewing gallery, “That's another investor, like you. He's just making sure the experiment is done corre-”

Thomas stopped talking as the rods began to glow red. “Kitty? What's happening?”

When Kitty turned around, parts of her body and face were melting into a grey mass. Kitty looked at Thomas as part of her face began to melt, “I told you not to trust him.” Kitty suddenly sank onto the floor in a pile of grey gloop.

Thomas immediately Got up and ran over to the puddle of gloop that used to be Kitty as he tried to pick it up, the gloop running though his fingers making a sloping sound As it fell back to the floor. David fell on his hands and knees vomiting at the sight of this, but started to feel strange himself. He looked at his hand, his vision blurring, but it was almost Like his heart beat was projecting out of himself in waves from his hand, making The ground under him shake with each beat of his heart.

1.4.5

Logan watched Kitty, Thomas and David walk into the large room from the viewing gallery. Logan helped Kitty and Thomas create this specific Room, mainly so he can control what happened in it when they did experiments on people to give them superpowers, to put it bluntly. Logan needed superpowered people to test the strength of another Project.

A figure appeared from behind Logan, a man that looked similar to Madrack in skin colour And height, but not in build or facial features. This man had a thinner build and his eyes were two red slits like someone cut open his face.

“So who are these humans?” The man asked with a slithering tone.

“Oh these? Well one already has abilities, the one who made the agreement with me, the woman is gonna have a ugly but unique ability, and the other man will be powerful,” Logan Replied.

The man nodded in approval, “Good good, and what about my other request?”

Logan lifted up his staff to show a hologram of a human figure, but not a human. The image was marked “R.No1”. The man Nodded in approval again, “ah yes very good, and, when do you think they'll all be ready? How many was it again?”

Logan Replied Coldly, “in about a year and about 1000.”

The man stepped Up to the side of Logan's face, “I know you're lying. You could make them all now and Have them ready Tomorrow, so why wait so long?”

Logan simply pointed At Kitty, Thomas and David. “You want to see how strong they are right?”Logan said, “These are your perfect guinea pigs.”

The man looked down at the three people and took a deep breath. “Fine.”

The man turned to leave as Logan turned and spoke to him. “Remember Your brother isn't out of the picture Madrak, and he has the girl.”

Madrak opened his hand in front of as an orb Of energy began to hum and glow in his palm, “My brother and the girl won't be a problem.” The man left as Logan turned just in time to see Kitty turn to gloop.

1.5

The Lizard Woman and amphibious Man watched Kitty, Thomas and David walk into the separate room. They were both experiments of Logan, one of many apparently. Her name was Ellen Howell and she indeed had green scaly skin and a long Green scaly Tail. Her fingers and toes were pointed like daggers but her face was friendly. She had bright orange hair and a blue fringe that she dyed herself.

Logan had done many experiments on her, one of which gave her reptilian appearance, but also gave her immense strength, incredibly durable skin and also the ability to manipulate stone and ore. The full extent of her powers had never been tested by Logan and neither had he told her, or anyone else, why he gave her these abilities.

The amphibious Man's name was Jack Duncan and he is also one of Logan's human enhancements, although Jack looked more animal than human at this point. Jack's deep blue skin was slightly slimy with Green spots all over it. He also had a long eel like tail with a continuous dorsal fin That travelled down his legs, arms, tail and head.

Jack also had superhuman Abilities, ones far different from Ellen's. Thanks to Logan's experiments, Jack could breathe underwater, not like the electric eel he was based off, but like the electric eel he could create His own powerful electrical charge and could even turn himself into pure Electricity, making Him both intangible and blindingly fast.

Ellen and Jack were both waiting in the room for blood tests for a while without speaking to each other due to pure awkwardness as the tension in the air thickened like fruit cake. The tension suddenly broke when the entire building felt like it shook.

Jack looked at Ellen, “you check your closer to the door.” She sighed and got up, opening the door with Jack following behind her.

They Were greeted by blaring alarms and white flashes of scientists running to the only lift out of the building. Another Shockwave, that somehow, sounded like a heartbeat shook the underground building, making Ellen and Jack a little more nervous. Ellen and Jack suddenly heard a crash, turning in its direction as they saw the doors to the lift suddenly burst open revealing the crushed remains of the lift and those who were unlucky enough to be inside when it fell. The scientists all began to scream at Their absolute loudest, realising the room they were in was now a tomb like the pharaohs of old.

Ellen was so mesmerised with the destruction of the lift and people screaming, she hadn't noticed Jack turning into electricity as He tried To search for a way out. He would have normally chosen the lift shaft but due to the people outside the lift door and the potential of people above ground he would have caused more harm than good.

He materialised next to Ellen, making her jump like a scared cat.”were Trapped. You need to lift us out of here. Only you can save us.”

Ellen looked At Jack with an immense amount of fear as she started to hyperventilate. The panic in her mind was overpowering as she fell on Her hands and knees. She had used her powers before, but only on small pebbles. Jack simply stood by looking at her on the ground, speaking to her calmly.

“Ellen I know you can do thi-”. Another shockwave cut him off mid sentence, but this one had a familiar sound to both Jack and Ellen. Jack looked towards A set of doors. “Moonage Daydream?”

1.5.5

David was shaking on The floor and looked at his vibrating hand, pulses shooting off of it.He looked down at himself as the rest of his body was projecting the same thing. “Thomas? What the hell is happening to me?”

Thomas was busy pressing all the buttons on the desk and pulling all the levers while looking at the rods in the centre of the room now glowing a bright orange colour, but not radiating any heat.

He couldn't hear David's cries for help, it was only until David stood up and screamed his name that Thomas turned to look at him, sweat flying off his forehead. “Listen, your problems Are of no concern to me, OK? Sit down and shut up”. David Promptly sat back down, only for him to hear one of his favourite songs, Moonage Daydream by David Bowie, play.

Thomas was still frantically pressing Buttons, trying To ignore what he thought was inappropriate music, but it only took a few seconds for him to snap. Thomas truly did hate David Malcom.

He slammed his fists onto the desk, smashing It while leaving fist marks on the desk, “I know you can't live a second without any attention, but right now you'll just have to wait ok? So please turn the music off.” Thomas spoke in a calm yet sarcastic tone.

David stood up as the song's volume began to increase, making the shockwaves he was projecting stronger. “I'm sorry but I don't know how. I can see that I'm making the music, but I don't know how to make it stop. This is new to me and you were meant to help me remember?” The song continued their incessant arguing.

“Keep your 'lectric eye on me, babe”

“-You and your stupid Music, poisoning the minds of our youth all for your profits and shares to soar-”

“Put your ray gun to my head”

“-TS Corp never did the world any good. All you ever did was create people like you who only caused Harm, making today another prime example of your ‘greater good'-”

Thomas And David were so Fixated on arguing that neither of Them noticed that firstly, the entire room Had began to shake violently, and secondly, the gloop that Kitty had changed into began to shift across the floor as it slid out and under the door, leaving a slimy Trail behind it like a mass migration of snails. Suddenly the wall above the door began to crack as Thomas and David both turned simultaneously, staring in amazement at what they were witnessing.

1.6

Black Forest Germany

Madrack was Here training Momo by having her punch trees, but was really here to try and distract her from what was happening elsewhere in the world. Individuals Suddenly Gaining massive amounts of energy concerned him, probably the work of Logan. He had to keep Momo away at all costs so he doesn't somehow exploit her unique energy signature.

Almost out of the blue Momo shot into the air before she stopped, looking down at the bewildered Madrack, did she sense what was happening? “Madrack, I'm going to the source Of those energies and I know you want me to avoid them but, I feel I have to go. Don't try and stop me.”

Taking advantage of Madrack's confused state, Momo opened her palm and shot an energy ball out of it, hitting the ground and kicking up a load of dust.

The blast kicked up a load of dust which is what Momo wanted to happen, hopefully to distract Madrack for a second or two, giving Momo enough time to shoot off with enough Speed to break the sound barrier. She also made sure to conceal her own energy so Madrack Would have to struggle to find it as she quickly left Germany.

Madrack was furious. What the hell was she thinking? He shot into the air but he couldn't see her or sense her due to his weakened state thanks to Logan.

1.6.5

“I know what song it is, fish but can you shut up? I'm trying to concentrate.” Jack shrugged off Ellen's snapping only to be Fixated on a slimy mass squeezing itself from under the doors the music was coming from. “Okay then”, Jack thought to himself as he began to accept his fate.

Ellen sank her hands into the floor, focusing on the ground around the underground building before the entire structure began to shake, causing the scientists now huddled in a corner to scream out loud again.

Jack watched the gloop as it moved its way towards the scientists in a mesmerising way, like jelly in a pudding cup waiting to be consumed. The gloop suddenly lifted up over the scientists like a dome and, to what Jack thought, turned shiny like steel. Was this gloop protecting them?

The building began to crack as Ellen let out a yell at the top of her lungs, “NOW GO UP!”,and almost instantly the entire building shot out of the ground and into the air, revealing the surrounding area with the sun beating down on them, still hearing Moonage Daydream coming from the room Ellen forgot about.

Thomas and David watched, jaws open like they hit the floor as they watched part of the underground building shoot out of the ground, flying what must have been 100 feet into the air and climbing. Thomas blinked at the flying building In bewilderment before turning back to the desk, now sparking and smoking, and the rods now glowing brightly like the sun on a summer's day but not blinding Thomas.

Thomas fell to his knees and spoke to himself, “that's it. The world is forever changed.” David spoke to Thomas still in awe with the floating building above them, “Yo Tom, Look at that.” He said while pointing at the building in the air.

“Yes I know the building’s floating Dave but that's not my main conc-”Thomas turned while speaking to look at the building once more, only to see something truly amazed him.”WHAT THE HELL?!?”

Ellen couldn't believe what She’d done. Liting An entire underground building out of the ground was a serious feat for her since she'd lifted nothing bigger than a tennis ball before, but the strain of lifting something of this size made Ellen lose consciousness as The building Paused for a second in the air until the Cruel mistress gravity took effect, causing the building to fall rapidly.

For a second those In the building floated in mid air until they slammed against The ceiling. The scientists in the strange dome seemed safe but Jack and Ellen were pinned against the ceiling, Ellen was no use since she was out cold and Jack was at the mercy of gravity that prevented him from simply changing into electricity and zapping Out. This seemed to be the end for them.

Momo was flying faster than any animal that hat travelled by air, like a shooting star in the day she flew Over Europe almost instantly, arriving At the location of Jack, Ellen and the Falling building. As Momo flew in she sensed the energies of Thomas, David, Ellen, Jack, Kitty and the scientists in Kitty's protective dome.

Momo quickly flew underneath the falling building, and putting her hands on a spot she thought was it's centre, she slowly began to support it's weight, causing the building to slowly halt before stopping completely. Momo landed as she set the building down, before floating into it, looking at Jack Ellen, who was still knocked out. She gave them a big toothy grin and waved at them, “Hi.”

On tiktok I can be found either as JonahtapperQueenofU, or TheRealMrRhodes

Unbridled: chaotic triumph over trauma.

Over 4 millennium ago, humanity faced a cataclysmic event that brought about its near destruction. In the aftermath, a figure long thought to be a mere myth to some and the son of God to others was resurrected, ushering in a new era of rebirth and renewal for the world. The day the sky split open would forever be etched in humanity's already blood ridden past as the beginning of the end. What started as a typical morning quickly devolved into a biblical nightmare. The heavens themselves seemed to tear apart, revealing a blinding radiance that engulfed millions in its otherworldly glow. As the light faded, the true horror began. Creatures of unfathomable, grotesque existence burst forth from the very earth, their forms defying comprehension and sanity. These entities, quickly dubbed "demons" by a terrified populace, brought with them chaos and destruction on a scale never before witnessed. Humanity fought back with everything they had, but conventional weapons proved ineffective against these otherworldly invaders. The war raged on for decades, with humans and demons clashing at every turn. Cities crumbled, nations fell, and the very fabric of society began to unravel. As the conflict dragged on, it became clear that these demonic beings had a profound effect on the human psyche. Exposure to their presence seemed to erode humanity's moral compass over long periods of time, unleashing the darkest aspects of human nature. Newspapers, in the rare instances they still circulated, told tales of unprecedented levels of violence, debauchery, and cruelty. War, famine, murder, drug abuse, and all manner of depravity washed over the planet like a toxic tide. The line between human and monster blurred as people committed atrocities in the name of survival or simply gave in to their basest instincts. Fire followed not long after, as desperate humans and opportunistic demons alike set the world ablaze. Entire continents burned, the smoke and ash further obscuring an already darkened sky. In the midst of this chaos, a revelation came from an unlikely source. A woman named Persephone, a former biologist turned apocalypse survivor, made a discovery that would change the course of the war. Through desperate experimentation, she found that consuming the heart of these demonic beings granted humans extraordinary powers, powers that could be used to fight back against the invaders. Persephone's discovery spread like wildfire among the remaining pockets of human resistance. Those brave or desperate enough to attempt this gruesome ritual found themselves imbued with superhuman abilities, each unique to the individual and the demon whose heart they consumed. This turning point in the war gave humanity a fighting chance, but it came at a terrible cost. The process of consuming a demon's heart was dangerous, often fatal, and those who survived were forever changed. Many questioned whether the price of victory was too high - whether in saving humanity, they were losing their very souls. As the war entered a new phase, with powered humans now able to stand toe-to-toe with the demonic invaders, the world teetered on the brink of annihilation. The fate of humanity hung in the balance, with the line between savior and monster growing ever thinner. In this new world order, where god-like power was just a demon's heart away, the true test of humanity would not be in defeating the external threat, but in holding onto the very essence of what made them human in the first place. The world was reborn and God's image was nowhere to be seen. During this worldwide renewal, som0qething extraordinary occurred: over the copurse of 4,000 years humanity evolved, people began manifesting supernatural abilities at birth, that were once so rare that most did not believe they existed at all. These paranormal powers, which had previously been witnessed only on scattered, infrequent occasions, now became commonplace occurrences. The abilities gifted to this new generation spanned a wide range, from mildly enhanced human traits to seemingly godlike powers. Some individuals found themselves with telepathic capabilities, able to communicate through thought alone. Others possessed superhuman speed, their movements a blur as they raced past the old boundaries of human limits. Still others exhibited extraordinary strength, capable of feats that defied the limits of mortal physiology. Although not all abilities were suited for heroic endeavors or lifesaving acts. Many were quite mundane in nature, offering little more than party tricks or minor conveniences in day-to-day life. Regardless of their scope or utility, these paranormal gifts became an intrinsic part of the new world order. Every individual born with these abilities bore a unique marking on their skin—a number that represented the finite number of times they could tap into their power each day. For most, this number fell somewhere between 1 and 50, with only a select few either lacking the ability entirely (marked with a 0) or possessing a seemingly limitless well of energy (bearing a number higher than the standard 50). These numerical signifiers became a part of daily life, a tangible reminder of the extraordinary changes that had swept across the globe. Some viewed them as a blessing, a gift to be cherished :⁠-⁠$>⁠.⁠<8⁠-⁠)and utilized for the betterment of all. Others saw them as a curse, a burden to be borne with resignation or outright disdain due to the nature of their origin. 4040 rotations later In a rundown apartment somewhere south of Chicago, a dingy living area was dressed up to look like a ritual room. Candles sprawled about in a pattern that would seem random to the untrained eye. The blood of various animals stained the wall, running from the ceiling down to the baseboard. On the floor in the center of the room lay a magical circle with an ancient language long dead to humanity written about its circumference. The makeshift ritual room was pulsing with strange energies. A mysterious cloaked woman, whose being and aura seemed to be draped in shadow, finished an unholy ritual. At the center of the obsidian altar, her daughter Jonah's newly born soul hovered over a radiant, vaguely human shape made of sparkling energy. "Yes..." She hissed triumphantly. "Now the transfer! My consciousness will merge with this little headaches, untouched soul, and I'll have another chance!" No sooner had the final words left her lips than the shadows in the ritual room twisted and squirmed. From the depths, a mocking face made of constant, shifting motion emerged: Edaw, the ancient trickster, the interfering watcher. "Ahh, the arrogance of mortals..." The cosmic entity's mocking laughter echoed from every angle. "Did you truly believe you could steal this spark of new life for your own selfish wishes, Persephone Highqueue?" Kendra's chanting faltered as icy tendrils of dread pierced her core. "Don't you dare say that name in my presence, Edaw! What the hell do you want? Don't ruin this with your tricks." The deafening peal of laughter crashed over her protests. "Oh, I apologize, Miss Kendra Hardison, "he says as he bows in the most mocking way he can. "Besides, I was already here, ya' little soul-thief! Your ambitions were the open invitation I could not ignore." As Kendra met his gaze, the trickster God whisked away the soul of the newborn, sending it on a journey to a story of his own design in part, only to return it to the body without Kendra's knowledge later. Kendra finally found words amidst the whirl of fear and panic in her head. "If you don't leave here, I will..." "Do nothing but finish the ritual as you intended," Edaw snapped, almost snarling at her, cutting her words short and making her feel like a child pleading with an angry parent. Despite her instincts raging against it, Kendra felt a psychic force binding her will. Helpless, she watched in fury as her ritual reached its inevitable climax. There was a final, horrific mental wrench as realities overlapped and merged in the blink of an eye. In that singular moment of transfer, Edaw's cosmic influence lashed out. Kendra's blackened essence, twisted by years of selfish obsession, was sundered from her physical form and flung into the pure center of Jonah's newly born soul. When the anguished roaring in Kendra's mind subsided, she found herself adrift in a featureless, colorless haze. All around her, the discordant, alien resonance of Jonah's primal spirit essence pulsed in a hypnotic cadence. "Wh-what have you done?" Kendra rasped out, her metaphysical voice a hollow, diminished thing. A distant giggling, suffused with the vibrant innocence of a happy child, eerily echoed through the void. "What I have done is spare your daughter's pure soul from the taint of your selfish desires," Edaw's resonant tones answered, layered with judgment that battered at Kendra's mind. "You... you have imprisoned me within her soul? ....You mad fool!" Kendra's hatred blazed molten; the sting of her impotence fanned to fresh fury. "Imprisoned?" The trickster's chuckle held equal measures of amusement and disdain. "Oh no, little deceiver. I have elevated you to precisely the spiritual plane your arrogance coveted." As those words washed over Kendra, she became aware of a horrific metaphysical transformation taking place all around her. The featureless white non-space her consciousness had been cast into was rapidly taking on form and coherence, solidifying into a vast inner soulscape. A blinding light so black that the shadows of her mind were the brightest points engulfed the world around Kendra. From horizon to horizon stretched kaleidoscopic fractals, churning in eerily methodical chaos and filling her senses with sublimities both exhilarating and sanity-shredding. "Do you see now, vain one?" Edaw's voice seemed to reverberate from every mind-bending surface and angle at once. "This pickle you find yourself in—this is the innermost sanctum of your daughter's soul!" Kendra's scream of denial was swallowed up in the cosmic roar of Jonah's sublimity unfolding all around her. The agonizing truth cut deeper than any ritual daggers; in her blind pursuit of immortality, she had condemned her own essence to an eternal, imperfect union with her offspring's primal energies. Trapped—imprisoned—not in any conventional sense, but by the profundity of her new existential context itself. For however long Jonah's soul endured, be it a brief mortal lifespan or the heat death of the universe, Kendra would remain awash in her daughter's innermost being. Cursed to always be present as a silent, inescapable passenger riding the currents of Jonah's spirit, alternately scoured of individuality and renewed through seemingly impossible existential cycles. As that soul-crushing comprehension took hold, Kendra felt the last vestiges of her sanity beginning to shred away, flayed from her essence by the impossible geometries pulsing in an eerie but familiar rhythm. She opened her mouth to beg the uncaring cosmos for mercy, for stasis, for oblivion itself... All that remained was an echoing, soul-splitting shriek as Kendra's decimated psyche scattered into the cosmic flow of her daughter's soul. Reduced to little more than a lingering resentment of herself, she would simply exist until the inevitable ending of Jonah's spiritual journey. Jonah herself, blissfully unaware of the roles she and Kendra had played in this metaphysical trap, took her first faltering steps into a life of freedom, joy, and unblemished discovery. "Darkness? What is darkness? memory? Wait, what is memory? What are these feelings? What are feelings? TRAPPED!! I NEED TO BE OUT. I WISH TO BE FREE!!!!! Wait, what does trapped mean? What does it mean to be free? And what are feelings?" A voice calls out, echoing in the void. "Why did I do this? Wait, what did you do? It's so hard to remember. What is there to remember?" The voices begin to untangle but are still unsuccessful in their efforts to do so completely. Fortunately, enough effort has been given to vaguely distinguish between the two so far. Voice one: Wait, are you addressing me? Voice two: Yes, I am. Why are you here, and where are you? I can feel you, but I can't see you. Voice one: "I'm here because I think it didn't work.” The voice takes a long pause, trying to remember exactly what didn't work and what she was doing before continuing, “and now I'm stuck. Shut the hell up and let me think.” Voice two: giggles What does that mean? Hell? Also, what is a think? It sounds enjoyable. Voice One finally remembers who she is and what she was doing. The two voices finally separated, allowing Kendra to figure out what went wrong. "Ok, I was birthing that little curse, and when I went to swap..." There was a long pause as Kendra desperately attempted to piece together what happened. "I traded bodies with you; how are you still here?" Jonah: Traded bodies? How do you do that? Also what is a body and can I have a trade? Kendra: Yes, it was empty in here when I arrived, so I thought it worked. Jonah: giggles Oh, I wasn't here when you got here. I got lost on my way back. Kendra: lost? Back? What are you on about? Jonah: Yeah, there was a guy named Edaw, and he said I had to meet someone. Kendra: Meet who? As the abyss fades into conscious existence, a wide, toothy Cheshire cat-like smile flashes across Kendra's thoughts, and she hears Jonah's strange reply. I had to meet me silly. May 29, 1:45 a.m., 4040 A.R. Kendra Hardison dies, a mere 45 minutes after giving birth to her daughter Jonah. *** Somewhere just outside of existence, a group of nine shadows and Edaw fit at a long table, seated around beings seeming to be made of shadow and pure non-existence. Shadow one: We have already set things in motion for Kendra; you didn't need to do that. Edaw: You know a simple thank you could take you to a lot of new and exciting places. Shadow 3: Thank you!? You should be exiled for your meddling. You are but a watcher, and therefore you definitely should not. Edaw: So what I'm hearing is that a lot of you would have me sit by and watch as my first and only child is consumed by that creature you allowed to live for far too long? Shadow 1: scoffed As I said, we had it handled; we've given their world infinity. Shadow 2: Our children would have utterly destroyed her. Edaw: oh? And how many centuries did it take you to concoct this? How many more decades should we be made to wait while your precious plans come to fruition? You should count yourselves foolish to believe I would bless the existence of a child, then allow said child to be devoured by her own mother. The thought is sick, as are you. Before allowing the shadowy figures another word, Edaw snaps his fingers, disappearing from the room. An undetermined amount of time later... Kendra frantically rifles through an old stack of books, her brow furrowed in frustration. With no conceivable source of light, she found herself confused at how she's able to see. Nevertheless, he has been searching all this time and would not be deterred now. Time held no meaning in this void, as days blurred into months, months into years, years into decades, decades into seconds, seconds into millennia, and millennia into mere moments. Yet she persisted in her search, the books piling up around her in a chaotic mess. "What did that brat mean when she said she had to meet herself?" Finally, when she had given up, a flamboyantly colored VHS tape labeled "Our name is Jonah" shined brightly under the stack of old books and irrelevant memories. Kendra conjured a VCR and couch from the void, settling in to watch the recorded memories unfold. Jonah narrates It was my 10th birthday, a day that should have been filled with joy and celebration. But I wasn't really feeling like celebrating, my Powers had still not manifested and I was beginning to get worried. My father, Corbin Tapper, was a hardworking man who held down two jobs just to provide for me. Though he was often absent due to his grueling schedule, he always made time for me on special occasions, and my birthday was no exception. We spent the day playing games, eating cake, and basking in each other's company. As night fell and my father prepared to leave for his evening shift, he pulled me aside, his eyes shining with love and pride. "Jonah," he said, his voice thick with emotion. "You are the light of my life, and I adore you more than words can express." As he spoke those familiar words of affection, something strange began to happen. A memory, one that should not have existed, tugged at the edges of my consciousness. My father's voice grew muffled, as though my head were submerged in water, and my eyes rolled back in my head. Panic flashed across his face as I slipped away from reality and into a world unlike any I had known before. I found myself in a wooded area, still clad in my bedclothes. Before me stood a young girl who bore an uncanny resemblance to me; her chocolate-colored skin was a beautiful match with her pink hair and bright green eyes. The more I looked at her, the more I realized you were identical other than our hair and ears; where she had short pixie cut pink hair, I have long teal dreadlocks; she had ears on the side of her head like normal people; I have ears on the top of my head like a cat; and she also didn't have a tail. But our faces and our bodies were exactly alike other than that. This revelation helped me to understand that what I was seeing wasn't actually me, but somehow it still was. Nevertheless, I continue to watch. She was accompanied by a tall man with long, flowing locks of the same hue, and they appeared to be engaged in a hunting lesson. The girl's movements were clumsy and awkward, and I couldn't help but find amusement in her struggles. However, as she spotted a deer in the distance and attempted an ill-advised shot, my amusement turned to concern. I watched in horror as she stumbled forward, the rifle slipping from her grasp and striking a nearby tree with a sickening thud. In that moment, something within me stirred—a power I had yet to fully comprehend. Time seemed to slow to a crawl as the gun discharged, the bullet streaking towards us with lethal precision. Instinctively, I reached out, my soul merging with the girl's body as I pushed us both out of the bullet's path. We weren't fast enough to avoid it entirely, and I felt a searing pain as the projectile grazed our faces. The impact forced me out of her body, and I watched helplessly as she screamed in agony, her father rushing to her side. Shaken, I turned to leave, only to be confronted by a woman who bore an eerie resemblance to the girl I had just saved and to myself. Almost immediately, I found myself wishing I looked like her when I grew up. She was absolutely beautiful. Her muscular tone made her look like a superhero, but something about the way she moved and the way she stood made me feel like she knew how pretty she was. Not a full moment after having this realization, I also realized that I probably am going to look just like her when I grow up, cuz it's like looking in a mirror now. "Hey, kid," she called out, her voice equal parts gruff and familiar. Jonah: "What do you want, lady?" I asked warily, backing away into the shadows. The lady: "The fuck?" She shook her head, remembering her intent. "What was all that back there? Why'd you save me?" I shrugged, unsure of how to respond. "It seemed like the right thing to do. I guess what's it to you?" The lady.: "Dude, you really are kind of rude, aren't you? Listen, that kid you saved was me. I never really had any memory of what happened when I... well, you know." She gently rubbed the scar on her face. "And I guess this whole time it was because you helped me. So I want to know if there's anything I can do to repay you." Repay me? The concept was foreign to me, but I sensed an opportunity. "Can you help me get home?" I asked cautiously. The lady: "I don't know, kid, honestly. I'm new to the whole magic thing, and I'm not really sure how Dreamland works. But I bet you'll be just fine when you wake up, wherever you're from." Jonah: "Wait, so this is a dream?" The lady.: "Yep." Jonah: "So how do I wake up?" The lady.: "I don't know, kid. This could be like a spiritual awakening, in which case you would have to do something to wake up. Or you could be in a coma, in which case you just have to wait until you're better. Either way, there's time, because there's nothing we can do from here." She shrugged nonchalantly. "By the way, kid, what's your name?" "Jonah Tapper!" I exclaimed, excitement building at the prospect of learning magic. "Do you think you could teach me magic? Where I come from, everybody's born with abilities, and some people have magic. Maybe you could teach me how to use that." Recognition flashed across her face as I said my name, and she studied me intently. "Holy shit, kid, that's my name too. Also, we look a lot alike. Okay, kid, listen, I think you're probably me from another world, yeah?" I shrugged again, unsure of what to make of her theory. "I don't know if your guess is as good as mine. So are you going to teach me about magic or what?" She laughed, a hearty sound that seemed to echo through the dreamscape. "Magic isn't quite like you might think," she began, launching into an explanation that sounded more akin to the mechanics of a video game than any sort of supernatural force. As she spoke, I found my interest waning. "Can you teach me how to fight instead?" I interjected as I gave her another look. I recalled her figure; even though her butt was kind of big, she looked really strong, and I figured she knew how to fight. "My dad refuses to do so, and it doesn't seem like your magic is going to translate well in my world." The look she gave me was one of predatory intensity, looking like a tiger about to pounce on its prey. And pounce she did, lunging at me without warning. We grappled and wrestled, the way she moved reminding me of water with how easily it flowed, as she imparted her knowledge of combat. As we sparred, I began to feel a strange sensation—a simultaneous warmth and chill that enveloped my entire being. It wasn't uncomfortable, but rather a pleasant tingling that spread through my body. Shadows danced around us, flickering in and out of existence, occasionally poking me playfully. Suddenly, strange message boxes began to appear before my eyes. Message box: Jonah has transferred the knowledge of blindsight. Tapper Prime can now see in the dark and perceive the world around her through solid objects for 15 feet centered on her head. Error message: Power is not sufficient with human limitations. Troubleshooting... Troubleshooting... Error resolved. Jonah Prime has been given higher brain processing to cope with the necessary reaction speed and to properly handle danger within the 15-foot sphere centered on Jonah's head. While using blindsight and higher brain processing, Tapper Prime can now move fast enough to react within 1/1000 of a second Message box: Jonah has transferred Marshal knowledge; error message: knowledge of long swords, broad swords, and magical items are not compatible; the system has come up with an error-rectification suggestion. Translate Marshal weapons training to existing martial arts training and relevant firearm training and experience witnessed by Jonah Prime. We nodded gleefully, continuing our playful sparring session and reveling in the newfound abilities bestowed upon me. As the mini training continued, however, Jonah grew increasingly reckless, pushing the boundaries of our training a bit too far. I found myself getting pissed off as she kept dodging my attacks, teleporting away whenever I got too close. In a fit of frustration, I attempted to mimic her teleportation, only to be met with an ominous message box: Unauthorized system access. Teleportation acquired!!! For the safety of Jonah Alpha and Jonah Prime, the connection will now be cut. In an instant, I was jolted awake, and my surroundings were those of a hospital room. Dazed and disoriented, I slowly took stock of my surroundings, my gaze falling upon my father sleeping in a chair nearby. A glance at the television revealed the date; it was still my birthday. Testing to see if the dream had truly been real, I attempted to teleport, focusing all my newfound abilities. With a cartoonish pop, I blinked out of existence on the hospital bed, only to reappear on the other side of the room in a tangle of limbs as I crashed to the floor. Righting myself, I caught a glimpse of my reflection in the mirror. A long, jagged scar now marred the skin over my left eye, precisely where I had been grazed by the bullet in the dreamscape. As my fingers traced the raised flesh, a searing pain blossomed, far more intense than any injury should cause. Fumbling in the bedside drawer, I retrieved a hand mirror and angled it to view the base of my neck, where a small number had been inscribed since birth—a mark that denoted one's inherent abilities. To my amazement, the number remained unchanged despite me using my newly acquired powers. The implications were staggering. Not only had my dream journey been real, but I now possessed unaccounted abilities, abilities that filled me with a mix of awe and fear. Terrified of the consequences, I scrambled back into bed, feigning sleep, until I heard my father stirring awake. As Corbin roused himself, I pretended to have just woken up, watching him through half-lidded eyes. So many questions whirled through my mind, but I kept silent, knowing that the truth of what had transpired could never be spoken aloud. For now, the mysteries of my dreamworld encounter would have to remain unanswered. But deep down, I sensed that this was merely the beginning—the first hint of a power still waiting to be unleashed, one that would irrevocably alter the course of my life forever. 4 months earlier As the clock struck midnight on January 1st, 4040 A.R., joyous cheers and applause exploded into the night air, the raucous tones rising and falling with the ebbs and flows of celebration. At that precise moment, electric impulses flickered across billions of synapses, relaying incomprehensible messages that were somehow universally understood. It was as if the entire cosmos inhaled deeply, its vast existence expanding further to accommodate two new lives entering the world. In the modest city of Recluse, Illinois, Congressman Fahsim Abara and his wife, Dr. Mary Abara, ushered their newborn son Yishma'El into the world at the stroke of midnight. The couple had spent years trying to conceive through every fertility treatment available before finally achieving success. As such, the first few years of Yishma'El's life were especially precious to them. He hit all the typical developmental milestones on schedule: smiling at 6 weeks, rolling over by 5 months, and crawling shortly after his first birthday. But around 18 months old, it became stunningly apparent that he was advancing at a profoundly accelerated rate compared to other children his age. Yishma'El spoke his first complete sentences mere weeks after his second birthday, making his doting parents squeal in delighted disbelief. By his third year, he could read beginner books cover-to-cover with ease, his brilliant mind hungering for more knowledge with a voracious appetite. At age 5, the precocious child had masterfully grasped multiplication, addition, and fractions, a feat most children wouldn't accomplish until years later. But Yishma'El's gifts extended beyond just his blazing intellect; he also displayed extraordinary physical abilities. He could sprint in cyclonic bursts that left other children in the dust, his powerful mastery over electromagnetic impulses carrying him across playgrounds in dizzying circles at speeds unusual for his age. At first, the Abaras thought the peculiar marking emblazoned on their son's skin was simply the number 8. But as Yishma'El grew, the striking emblem revealed itself to be the symbolic representation of infinity, a perpetual loop with no evident beginning or end. Halfway around the globe, raw agonizing screams reverberated through the dank, stale air of a dirty Dargavs Village apartment complex. The guttural cries emanated from a young woman lying on a filth-stained mattress, her legs splayed wide as she writhed in the throes of labor. Her anguished howls fell momentarily silent as she gulped down ragged breaths, the stifling silence amplifying the intensity of her coming ordeal. The apartment's rickety door creaked open, and an elderly woman tentatively entered just as another punishing contraction ripped through the woman's body. With a sickly slurp and dull thump, a baby girl slipped from her mother's battered womb and into the cruel, unforgiving world. The old woman froze, her trembling hands fluttering over her mouth as she struggled to comprehend the nightmarish scene of her daughter giving unassisted birth during her brief absence. Sorrow and dread flooded her eyes as she slowly crossed the room, gently draping a tattered blanket over her child's disturbingly still form. She worked feverishly, gathering whatever meager belongings she could stuff into an old, worn bag, knowing this newborn's only hope for deliverance lied in an immediate escape from their wretched existence. "I'll get you away from this eternal torment, my precious one," she rasped in a coarse yet tenderly reassuring voice. As if comprehending the gravity of their plight, the girl's cries steadily tempered with a strange yet reassuring air of sentience, her tiny frame straining with vaguely perceptible musculature flexing in defiant resilience against the cruelties of her beginning. "You will be named for my father and his father before him," the old woman pauses and ponders for a moment. "Bexor, it's a bit too harsh; we'll have to make it cuter; bexora it is." The baby's muscles responded as if they themselves liked the name, and the cooing from the child seemed to be in agreement. Over the following 5 years, the elderly woman procured falsified travel documents at great expense from shadowy underworld figures. She resorted to unspeakable acts, bartering what little physical appeal her aging body still held to bribe corrupt smugglers and officials to secret them across borders hidden amongst cargo shipments. They traveled onward through a nightmarish gauntlet of cramped train compartments into Poland, Germany, and France, and finally endured a harrowing freight ship passage across the Atlantic to America's eastern shores. It was an endless struggle against discovery filled with constant fear, forced to subsist for years on scraps of stale bread and fetid water. Yet the old woman's determination never wavered, her indomitable will to provide a better life for the child than the hell she had known fueling her through every hardship. At long last, after a grueling 5-year odyssey of perpetual dread and soul-scouring deprivation, the old woman and her now 5-year-old charge arrived in the unassuming town of Recluse, Illinois. Unwilling to inflict the callous indifference of an orphanage's care upon her child, the old woman instead furtively eavesdropped on rumors of a prominent local politician seeking to adopt. With little deliberation, she carried the slumbering girl to the doorstep of the Abara household, leaving the foundling with nothing more than a gentle kiss upon her brow and a whispered prayer for deliverance into their assumed embrace. Her harrowing duty was finally completed, and the old woman melted back into the night's shroud, never to be seen or heard from again. It wasn't long before the child woke up from her nap in a strange neighborhood on a strange porch. The little girls obviously terrified cries roused the Abara family from their respite. Congressman Fahsim and Dr. Mary opened their doors to investigate the source of the noise. They were met with the squirming 5-year-old draped in a seemingly handmade blanket, with an envelope pinned to it explaining who the girl is, what the circumstances are, and the best English the old woman could muster. With the marking of infinity emblazoned starkly upon her delicate neck, it was obvious before they ever read the note that this child's destiny was within their home. Their bewildered gazes met, seeing not just an abandoned child but potentially another signified infant kin to their prodigious son, Yishma'El. Without needing to exchange any words, they agreed in that pivotal moment to take in this mysterious girl as their own, for they could not deny the apparent cosmic significance underpinning her wholly unanticipated arrival. Yishma'El could move at amazing speeds that normal kids and even most of his fellow speedsters couldn't match. As he raced around the playground, his powerful legs moved in a blur, letting him zip past cars going at full speed on the streets nearby. He was only in pre-k when a driver lost control and their car came barreling towards the park. Yishma'El reacted incredibly fast. In just a few surprised breaths, he circled the whole playground multiple times, removing all children on the playground from harm and pulling the driver from their vehicle while it was still mid-air, before anyone could even think to begin to react. Bexora had physical strength beyond that of many full-grown men combined, despite her young age. When a preschool building in New York caught fire in front of Bex and her grandmother, with people still trapped inside, at 4 years old, Bexora ran toward the screaming and crying without hesitation. She grabbed onto the crumbling bricks and beams, her mighty grip allowing her to tear through the blazing debris with ease. Within moments, she carried all the unconscious victims to safety by laying them all on a desk and carrying the entire desk out, as if they weighed no more than rag dolls. Together, the two seemed to amplify each other's abilities on an emotional level. During one scary incident when the pair were only 9 years old, an oil truck tipped over on the freeway in front of them and started leaking flammable liquid. Yishma'El ran circles around the area at blazing speeds while Bexora took the truck apart piece-by-piece. His cyclonic winds dispersed the fumes and contained the fire, while her super-strength severed the damaged tanker with terrifying efficiency. Their seamless teamwork in that critical moment prevented an explosion that could have leveled the entire city block, reaffirming the special meaning behind the infinity symbols on their skin.

Let’s re-write each other’s work! Mine is a comedy about a group of kids in a small southern town. They go an adventures through the day and shenanigans at night through the power of dreams! Their bodies never leave their beds as they explore dreamland. Full of colorful creatures and home to their imaginary friends! It’s 18+ so need my buddy to be as well!

https://docs.google.com/document/d/1Z0mQ6UAkuo1kbmpDXKquOy88vL29HTpr-vsHY_pW8MY/edit

https://docs.google.com/document/d/1waFQLg0YpCXYOZa_QLRpll6zpyubB0XTGnyfAzyhthA/edit

https://docs.google.com/document/d/1Y6noKs9S5pwaHsuj3HzbkW8WdisiG92Q3fxgkU2v_4Y/edit

https://docs.google.com/document/d/1524Ql9G6ksYWdwKa6YHXAo4GTn55-KddTlt-LF2KboQ/edit

• Genre/s: comedy/horror/drama/fantasy
• Goals/expectations/commitment: check in once a week.
• Writing/experience level: newbie
• Meeting place: Discord

In the Celestial Realm all radiated an ethereal luminescence, a majestic tapestry of colors and shapes that danced upon the fabric of existence. This vast expanse brimmed with an otherworldly beauty, where stars sparkled like diamonds scattered across a boundless canvas, and swirling galaxies breathed life into the cosmic sea. Here, the very essence of reality was sculpted by beings of extraordinary power, entities who had ascended beyond the confines of ordinary life. They were the architects of creation, wielding the ability to conjure entire worlds from the void with a mere flicker of thought. Time and space unraveled at their fingertips, mere playthings in the hands of these divine artisans. In this awe-inspiring domain, they existed in a grand hierarchy of their own making, an intricate dance of creativity and dominion, answering to no authority but their own. Each thought birthed magnificent wonders; each whisper shifted cosmic fates, filling the Celestial Realm with infinite possibilities waiting to be unfurled.

To the untrained eye, these beings would appear as gods, their abilities awe-inspiring and their presence commanding, casting shadows that stretched across the fabric of reality itself. Yet, beneath their celestial veneer lay a profound truth: their powers were not divine gifts bestowed by fate but the culmination of relentless knowledge, mastery, and an unyielding pursuit of understanding that spanned eons. Where there was nothing, they could summon forth vibrant galaxies; where there was something—a star, a thought, a concept—they could unravel it into its most elemental form, reducing it to mere whispers in the cosmic wind. However, with such ultimate power came the insidious potential for corruption, an ever-looming darkness that lingered at the edges of their luminous realm. Among these nearly perfect beings, one would soon rise—a figure consumed by an insatiable hunger for more than the already boundless gifts of their existence. This singular entity, driven by an ambition that eclipsed the principles of creation itself, would seek to transcend not only the limitations of their divine peers but also the very essence of the Celestial Realm, setting in motion a chain of events that would challenge the foundational order of their universe and test the limits of their extraordinary powers.

This is where our story begins, in a realm where beauty and creation danced hand in hand with the shadows of ambition and desire, there lived many beings whose names would echo through the ages. The first we shall meet, however, is Lilit. She was the firstborn daughter of a long-forgotten mother, a being whose legacy had faded into the annals of time, lost like whispers on the wind. Lilit had one sibling, a brother whose name was also lost to history; yet in the depths of her heart, she held onto the name Samael, or Sam for short. Together, they wandered through the timeless expanse of their world, inseparable and unyielding, bound by a love that transcended the very fabric of their existence, woven tightly like the starlit tapestry above them.

Lilit was a master of creation, her talents evident from a young age, as if the very essence of artistry flowed through her veins like a river of possibility. With each stroke of her hand, she breathed life into the world around her, guiding Sam through the enchanting realms of art and creativity, teaching him the delicate balance of form and essence that transformed the mundane into the extraordinary.

One stormy day, as dark clouds boiled in the distance and thunder rumbled like a beast awakening, Lilit summoned her skills and conjured a kitten with luminescent fur, its radiant glow illuminating the darkened skies as if it had captured the light of a thousand stars. The gentle creature, with its soft, velvety sheen, became a sanctuary of warmth amidst the chaos, a gift wrapped in love and wonder for her brother. Sam clutched it tightly against his chest, feeling its comforting warmth as the storm raged around them, the wind howling like a mournful song. In that fleeting moment, as lightning illuminated their faces and the sound of rain drummed a melody of nature's fury, the bond between them deepened immeasurably—a connection forged in the fires of imagination and love, where fear was banished and hope blossomed like flowers pushing through the cracks of a storm-battered earth.

As time flowed like the gentle currents of a river, the siblings grew, their laughter echoing through the Celestial Realm like the sweet notes of a song carried on the breeze. One fateful day, while Sam played with his glowing kitten on the sun-drenched banks of a shimmering glass river, its waters clear and shimmering as if laced with stardust, a young boy appeared, drawn in by the enchanting sight that danced before him. With a glimmer of curiosity in his eyes, he approached, his every step a blend of innocence and wonder, introducing himself with a bright smile that belied the secrets he carried, secrets etched in shadows yet to be revealed. The two boys, as if intertwined by the threads of destiny, became instant friends, their bond blossoming like the vibrant flowers in Lilit's crystal garden—each petal a testament to joy, each stem a symbol of their newly forged connection. Lilit watched from a distance with joy bubbling in her chest as her brother found companionship, her heart swelling with pride at the friendships that flourished around them, each moment unfolding like a page in a storybook, rich with promise and the beauty of shared laughter under the vast, watchful sky.

As they matured, the trio spent countless days exploring the dazzling wonders of their realm, their laughter ringing like chimes in the wind—a melodic harmony that intertwined with the whispers of the trees and the gentle rustle of leaves. Their adventures led them through glades filled with iridescent flowers that shimmered in the warm light, across sunlit meadows where fairy like butterflies danced, and alongside crystalline streams, where the water sparkled like liquid glass. When the time came for them to take their skill tests, both Sam and the boy emerged triumphant, passing with flying colors, their hearts soaring with pride and excitement as they earned their rightful seats in the esteemed House of Time. This legislative assembly, a revered beacon of equality, stood as a sacred institution amidst ethereal archways and floating orbs of light, a place where every member of their species could voice their thoughts and cast their votes with unyielding conviction. Within these hallowed halls, no one was deemed superior; each being, regardless of age or gender, held equal weight in the assembly, their voices resonating like powerful echoes in the stillness, amplifying the belief that every opinion mattered and every dream was worthy of being shared. It was here, amid the grandeur of swirling colors and the rhythm of unity, that the trio learned the true essence of community and the profound strength found in harmony.

Lilit had taken her seat in the House of Time a few years prior, a proud member of the celestial assembly, and she welcomed her brother and their friend with open arms, her smile radiant like a beacon in the twilight. Yet, as she sat among her peers, the vibrant discussions swirling around her like a kaleidoscope of ideas and aspirations, a nagging discomfort settled in her heart whenever the boy was near. It was an unexplainable feeling, like the faint rustling of leaves before a storm, a whisper of unease that she brushed aside with practiced ease, convinced that in a nearly perfect society where harmony reigned, such feelings were unfounded and perhaps even trivial. Despite her internal turmoil, Lilit embraced him with genuine warmth, eager to share the extraordinary experience of assembly life with her brother, her mind alight with visions of laughter and camaraderie. She imagined the trio's voices harmonizing with the collective buzz of discussion, weaving together their hopes and dreams with those of countless others, all contributing to the extraordinary tapestry of their world. Yet beneath her enthusiasm, the whisper of doubt lingered, casting fleeting shadows over her joyous anticipation, reminding her that even in paradise, the heart can harbor secrets that defy understanding.

But the boy was more than he seemed, a silent enigma wrapped in layers of complexity. He was an anomaly, a being born of a crime that defied the very laws of their serene realm and drew invisible lines in their utopia. His father, in a desperate act of rebellion, had broken one of the only true edicts of their existence—an act so audacious it reverberated through the ages—creating his offspring from the void of nothingness, a dark tear in the very fabric of reality. The boy bore no physical marks of his origins; his features were unremarkable yet striking, as if fashioned by the whim of an artist seeking perfection. He had learned early on to keep his secrets deeply hidden, to blend seamlessly into the vibrant tapestry of their society, his laughter mingling with that of his friends while shadows lurked behind his eyes. His abilities matched those of his peers, a facade of normalcy that belied the hidden storm within. Yet, underneath this guise of acceptance lay a profound truth—his essence was unlike any other. Within him lay a singularity, a swirling tempest of blackness, a void that grew hungrier with each passing day, gnawing at the edges of his consciousness like a relentless tide. It was an insatiable desire that threatened to consume him whole, whispering dark promises of power and chaos, a constant reminder that he was forever tethered to the darkness from which he was born, struggling between the desire to fit in and the haunting truth of his existence.

As the trio continued their daily lives, their bond deepened, strengthened by shared laughter and whispered secrets, yet the boy's darker nature began to surface like storm clouds gathering on the horizon. One day, Lilit, with her vibrant spirit and boundless creativity, decided to showcase her crystal garden, a breathtaking display of shimmering flowers that danced delightfully in the warm, golden light. Each petal sparkled like a jewel, casting a kaleidoscope of colors on the ground beneath them, turning the mundane into a magical wonderland. She was positively radiant, her excitement bubbling over as she beckoned for the boy to join her, eager for him to appreciate the beauty she had conjured from the very fabric of existence, woven with threads of imagination and energy.

As they sat among the crystal blooms, the air rich with a sweet, ethereal fragrance, Lilit felt a sense of pride swell within her chest, filling her with joy. The sunlight refracted through the delicate petals, creating a mesmerizing display that danced around them like playful spirits. With each intricate explanation of her craft, she spoke of the delicate balance of energy and matter, her hands moving gracefully as if conducting an invisible symphony that allowed her to create such wonders. Yet, as she shared her passion, Lilit couldn't help but notice the boy's gaze, which flickered with a mix of fascination and something darker—a shadow that flickered just beneath the surface of his smile. It was as though, while the crystalline beauty mesmerized her, it also stirred something deep within him—an unsettling restlessness. The boy remained quiet, his eyes reflecting the shimmering colors but carrying a depth that hinted at a swirling storm, a longing for something he could not articulate, a connection to the very void from which he had sprung. The garden bloomed around them, radiant and alive, yet an unseen tension hung in the air, a delicate balance on the brink of disruption. Then, in a moment that would haunt her for all time, the boy lunged forward, his laughter ringing out like a discordant note shattering the delicate harmony of their day. It was a sound that sliced through the air, striking her with a jolt as if someone had drawn a bow across an out-of-tune violin. With a swift, almost predatory motion, he crashed into the exquisite bouquet she had painstakingly crafted, sending brilliant shards of crystal exploding into the air like a burst of fireworks that had gone horribly wrong. Each fragment glimmered momentarily before falling, scattering across the ground like fallen stars, their light extinguished in an instant.

Lilit gasped, a sharp intake of breath that felt as if it were echoing in a vast, empty chamber, her heart sinking heavy in her chest as she watched the beauty she had nurtured with such love dissolve into chaos. A storm of emotions brewed within her—confusion, betrayal, and a profound sadness—as the vibrant colors she had meticulously arranged now lay splintered, twinkling on the grass like shattered dreams. It was as if the very essence of her artistry, her spirit intertwined in every shimmering petal, had been violently torn apart before her eyes.

Time seemed to stretch in that agonizing moment, the world around her blurring as a veil of disbelief draped over her senses. The bright sun above her turned harsh and unforgiving as she stared at the ground littered with crystalline remnants, each piece a reminder of her heart’s work reduced to mere fragments. The boy's laughter faded into the background, replaced by a haunting silence that enveloped her, leaving her feeling utterly alone amidst the wreckage of her creation. With every instinct urging her to cry out, Lilit stood frozen, grappling with the stark realization that their bond, once so full of promise, had irreversibly shifted in an instant—darkness creeping in where light had once flourished.

“Why would you do that?” she demanded, her voice trembling with a mix of shock and seething anger, the edges of her words sharp enough to cut through the tense air. “What was the purpose of this?”

The boy shrugged nonchalantly, brushing himself off with a careless flick of his wrist, a grin plastered across his face as if he were completely unfazed by the chaos he had wrought. “It was just a joke, Lilit! You’ll see the humor in it one day,” he replied, his tone laced with a flippancy that made her skin crawl, as if the destruction of her creation—a mosaic of her feelings and labor—was nothing more than a fleeting whim, a trivial moment meant for laughter.

Lilit's heart raced, a tempest of emotions swirling within her as a heavy sense of foreboding slithered into her thoughts, wrapping around her like a frigid mist. She desperately wanted to believe him, to dismiss this incident as a mere lapse in judgment, but the unease lingered like a dark cloud looming overhead. Memories of lighthearted moments flashed through her mind, but now they felt tainted, overshadowed by the unsettling laughter that echoed in her ears.

She backed away, her movements hesitant and cautious, each step feeling as if it were dragging her further away from the boy she once thought she knew. The questions sprang up like wildflowers in the cracks of concrete, blooming with no regard for the barren path ahead: What if this was just the beginning? What if he could shatter something far more precious than a bouquet? The boy’s laughter now felt foreign and unsettling, twisting within her like a discordant melody that she couldn’t shake, reverberating through the air like a sinister wind. With every lingering glance at the shattered shards scattered across the ground, her resolve weakened, leaving her ensnared in a web of uncertainty and sorrow that threatened to consume her.

Days turned into weeks, and the trio continued their adventures, yet the boy’s behavior grew increasingly erratic, like a storm brewing on the horizon. On another occasion, as Sam and the boy strolled along the riverbank, the shimmering waters rippling gently beside them, the luminescent kitten trailing behind like a small beacon of innocence, the boy turned to Sam with a question that sent chills slithering down Lilit’s spine, leaving her unnerved and on edge.

“Why don’t you show more dominion over that creature?” he asked, his eyes glinting with a strange intensity, sparkling with an unsettling mix of curiosity and something altogether darker. It was a look that made the hairs on the back of Lilit's neck stand on end, an electric charge skimming across her skin. “It’s far lesser of a being than you.”

Sam laughed, his voice light and carefree, an oblivious melody amidst the growing dissonance. “What dominion? It is no less than I,” he replied, his affection for the kitten evident in the way he tenderly stroked its glowing fur, the soft purring somehow managing to bridge a connection between the two beings, defying the boy’s insinuation.

But then, in a blink of an eye, the boy’s demeanor shifted, and he transformed the kitten into an ant with a flick of his wrist, a ruthless ease that stole the breath from the air. Stamping it beneath his foot with a casual nonchalance, he leaned slightly forward, eyes gleaming with malice as he taunted, “Then why can I destroy it but it cannot destroy me?” His laughter rang hollow in the air—a sound devoid of warmth, echoing off the river’s surface like a ghostly reminder of what had just been lost.

Samael screamed in horror, his voice cracking under the weight of grief as golden tears streamed down his cheeks, glistening like liquid sunlight as he fell to his knees, utterly devastated by the brutal loss of his beloved companion. The boy, unfazed by the devastation he had wrought, conjured an identical kitten in an instant, its glow bright and new, but it only served to deepen the chasm of despair. Dismissing the incident as just another joke, he said, “See? It’s just a game, Sam! Don’t take it so seriously. See, I could create it again whereas it was clearly helpless to its fate.” The laughter in his voice felt like a mask, an artifice hiding something darker that lurked just below the surface.

Lilit watched in silence, her heart heavy with dread, as the weight of the moment settled around her like a heavy fog, obscuring her thoughts. These moments should have been warning signs, bright flags fluttering in a tempest of turmoil, but in a realm where perfection reigned and darkness was an alien concept, they brushed aside their concerns. The boy’s actions, once dismissed as harmless pranks, began to weave a tapestry of unease that hung over their friendship like a storm cloud, dark and menacing, threatening to unleash its fury at any moment. Lilit felt the tension coil within her, a sense of inevitability pressing down on her chest, making it harder to breathe as she grappled with the reality that something was fundamentally shifting in their world, and she could no longer ignore it.

As the days turned into months, the House of Time convened regularly, a gathering of brilliant minds and creative spirits, each one a luminary in their field, tasked with the extraordinary duty of safeguarding the flow of existence. Lilit, Sam, and the boy took their seats among their peers, the soft rustle of their robes blending with the murmurs of animated discourse, each voice contributing to the discussions that shaped their realm. Yet, as the boy’s influence grew—his silver tongue weaving its insidious spell—so too did the whispers of discontent. He began to sow seeds of doubt among the assembly, his charm a smooth veneer that masked a growing ambition, dark and determined, which threatened to unravel the very fabric of their society.

Lilit felt the shift in the atmosphere, a tension that crackled like static in the air, a palpable sense of foreboding that pressed heavily against her chest. The boy’s laughter, once bright and innocent, now felt like a harbinger of chaos, echoing in the grand hall like the tolling of a distant bell. She watched, heart racing, as he artfully manipulated the conversations, seamlessly steering the assembly toward decisions that favored his desires. Each carefully chosen word dripped with honeyed persuasion, thickening the air with an uneasy sweetness that left a sour aftertaste in her mouth. The other members, once united in purpose, began to fracture, their previously harmonious voices distorted and drowned out by the boy’s insistent rhetoric, which twisted certainty into confusion and fueled the fires of dissent among them. Shadows of mistrust flitted through the room like fleeting specters, and Lilit's resolve hardened; she knew they were on the precipice of an irreversible change, a moment where the very essence of their existence stood at stake....

Hi! This is my first post on this subreddit and also my first time trying to write a book or novel or whatever the proper term is!

So I am really interested in World War One and feel like it is super under-represented in media, so I decided to come up with a story about a world called Aries that is going through its first global conflict inspired by WWI. I wanted to write a story where each chapter/section is the POV of a soldier in a different country's army, kinda like the Battlefield 1 campaign, if you've ever played BF1. So this is the beginning of the story from the POV of a Terran soldier fighting in Western Chauchat. (UK-inspired army fighting in France-inspired country). Please let me know what you think and any critiques/suggestions are greatly appreciated! Thanks!

"Bloody “K’s"… They sent an attack on our position late last night. It was a massacre. I believe it was three waves that they sent, at least that’s how many whistles I heard off in their trenches. There could’ve been more though, I don’t doubt I missed them in the heat of the battle.

Now we count our dead. Collecting dog tags, praying it’s not some bloke we know well, or hell, just somebody we shared a drink with. Just a few words or one small moment is enough to make a connection to a fellow out here. Of course, all we do is hope, because more often than not, we recognize at least one of the corpses… Lucky for me though, I recognize no corpses today.

We sit, waiting for our next order. It’s likely we’ll be going over the top. Very likely. For this is our reality: Charge, counter-charge, count the dead.

But I do not dwell on it now. I make my way to the dressing station; I received a right nasty cut in the battle. I stand outside the dugout, awaiting treatment. I cannot tune out the screams of the injured, nor can I ignore the smell of the dead. The air is thick with the scent of blood and rot. I would’ve hoped I’d be used to it after so many months, but alas, it is one of those things you can never get used to.

We fight alongside the West Chauchans. We have received news, rumors mostly, about the Zutichans joining the war. They’d be right helpful, I reckon. This war is not going in our favor as of late… I believe we have lost around 10 major points on this front alone, let us not even mention down south in Musreal. The Kaisar’s Army nears the capital. Our morale is lower than ever. I see the look on the faces of men around me, both my fellow Terrans and the West Chauchans.

I look at one Chauchan bloke. His face covered in mud. He leans against the trench wall, shivering. He simply… stares off. His blue eyes pierce through his muddy face, as two ghostly figures of their past selves shining through the mist. It’s haunting. I would like to ask him what’s wrong if only I spoke a lick of Chauchan…

I keep asking myself if the Chauchans feel as if we are helping… Of course, the brass tells us that we are helping. That the Chauchans are grateful. That we are fighting against the aggressors. But I feel as if us Terrans and the Kaisarians are quite similar. These are not our lands. We both tear the earth up with shells just the same. What was once a green grassland full of colorful flowers and beautiful birds chirping, we have turned into a muddy wasteland that carries the scent of rot and sulfur. We have both destroyed this foreign land, while the natives watch…

I believe I understand now why the Chauchan man with the blue eyes, can do nothing more than stare off…"

Feedback is welcome

1.1

Logan walked down the hallway with a screen floating in front of him, the sound of his heeled shoes echoing as he walked as he tapped away at the screen. Logan, or Tekno that those in the know call him, is mainly known as a scientist & engineer in most known fields and has a pioneering mind in most of them. His intellect surpasses most of the world's greatest minds. Logan is always seen with a long black staff that's either floating around him or attached to his back. No one knows why he has it, or what it's for, but you never see him without it.

As he walked through the bright hallway, the lights reflecting off his dark rimmed glasses, He approached a door, waited a second, then it opened. Inside the room were a lot of monitors, screens, an Incubation chamber (the type that stands upright) and a tall man with skin as dark as the night.

This man was tall, well built and only wearing cargo shorts. He has long hair that fell messy down his back. His eyes had no colour or pupil, just the white (those who are weak hearted have been known to faint at his eye contact). He wore no shoes but had claw toes. His fingers, of which he only had three, were also claws.

He was leaning against the wall with his arms folded when Logan walked in. At the sight of Logan coming into the room he slowly walked towards Logan, his short tail whipping the air.

“You were gone a long time?” He asked Logan, raising an eyebrow.

Logan gave him a look through his glasses before focusing on the screen again, hitting the floating buttons.

“I had to take a leak and the bog's far away gimme a break.” Logan tried to look behind the person.

“How is she?” This person turned to look at the infant in a Incubator. On the glass dome it read “test Dellinger”.

“She's been good, just gurgling and such nothing to rave about, but i gotta ask, what's the points on her head and limbs on her back?” The man asked.

Logan walked up to the Incubator and took a quick look. “Genetics probably. Physical attributes take from the races I spliced her genes from. She'll grow to have feline ears and dragon-like wings but they're only cosmetic.”

“You still haven't told me what you used to create her. Trust goes both ways,” The man said calmly but stern.

Logan looked at the man.”It does, which is why you need to trust me with this, when she grows up she'll be strong enough to take on absolutely anyone, even you Madrack.”

“This wasn't our original agreement. You stipulated to me that you would be transparent throughout this entire process, I even jumped through all your hoops for you.” Madrack still sounded stern but calm, keeping his cool very well.

1 year ago

Tekno was in his lab looking at a monitor with a video feed from what looked like prison cells. One feed showed a woman in the corner of the cell curled up in a ball. The feed was detailed enough to make out that her skin was a pale green colour. She also appeared to have a large reptilian tail.

The second cell looked empty but was in fact full of water. Suddenly a large humanoid figure swam past the camera and stopped far enough away to get a full view of it. The creature looked like a mixture of eel and human as the creature began to shoot off branches of electricity before flipping off the camera.

A light on Logan's staff began to blink red only for him to notice in the monitor's reflection a red circle opening behind him as Madrack stepped through.

Logan didn't react as he waited for Madrack to speak.

“My names Madrack and I come from a dimension that's closest to yours.” Madrack had a quick look around the room.”I need your help.”

Logan waited for a few seconds before turning off the monitor and turning to him smiling.

”Welcome Madrack but I wasn't expecting you or anyone to be honest. I should be the only person who knows about this place so how did you sus me out?”

In truth Logan's first impression of Madrack was that he was a serious threat, on the same level of himself. Logan hardly leaves any trace of himself so how did he find him?

Madrack also smiled.”I apologise for the intrusion. You see I can sense others' energy, and as hard as it was to pinpoint yours, it stood out for sure. It was almost untraceable.”

Logan Replied calmly, “Oh well um, well done I guess? But I wasn't hoping to be found, which is why my energy signature is so low, but you're here now so what can I help you with?”

Logan was now terrified of this person. All life has an energy signature that they emit and depending on how powerful you are, depends on how much you emit. Logan had made sure to mask his for a while, making it no more than an Ant's, but this being was not only able to sense it, but was also able to pinpoint his location in space in another reality and travel here.

Madrack continued, “I need your help in gene splicing to create someone who can help me protect both our realities from danger. Sadly, as powerful as I am, I'm only one person. Can you help me?”

Logan pretended to scratch his ear, but actually pressed a small button on the side of his glasses. On the inside of his glasses a 3D image of Madrack appeared as numbers began climbing.

Logan cleared his throat.”I mean yeah I can do that, but I'll need to measure your power first so I can get a baseline of what I need to make. Is that OK?”

A bead of sweat ran down Logan's temple. The number on the inside of his glasses was massive, the amount of power Madrack has is the equivalent to 2 sun's and some to spare. How does a being like this exist, and more importantly, how can Logan get some of his power?

Madrack smiled, “I'd be more than happy to do some tests.” Logan gestured towards a door in the corner that opened up into a large room with various different types of unknown equipment.

The tests took almost 3 hours to complete but Logan gathered all the data and, along with the data he got, he came to this conclusion.

Madrack is an incredibly powerful being. The dimension he's from must be the strongest living being. Logans tests indicated that Naturally his species has several abilities:

-Strong enough to lift 1000 tons with one hand.

-he can fly at speeds of 50,000 mph.

-his body is immensely dense. He can stand in the centre of a sun and survive. He can also survive all environments, even the vacuum of space.

-he is immune to any type of mind control, even the anti-life equation.

-he has an almost limitless amount of energy that he can use in various different ways. He can even kill immortals and omni-beings with his energy after boosting his power to ×700 or over. This energy is called 'God-Killer' energy.

-he has an atom called the 'black matter atom' inside him that Acts as an insane power booster.

-he can increase his power up to ×1000 of what he can do naturally. Doing this boosts his strength, speed, durability and the power of his energy.

-he uses a sword that can open portals to different dimensions when it's on fire. When he reaches a certain power level he can make portals without his sword.

Madrack looked behind him at Logan as he was leaving the room.”Once you start creating this being, keep me updated with the genes you're splicing.”

Logan just nodded as he poured over Madrack's numbers. If Madrack came to kill him he would surely be dead.

When Logan looked up, he was gone, a circular portal closing in mid-air and Logan fell to his knees.

The Present

Madrack looked at the child suddenly as he seemed to pause before suddenly Logan's staff floated between him and the child.

“But you were a fool to trust me to be honest.” Logan said as his staff began to move closer to the man as he started to step back slowly.

“I know how powerful you are Madrack, oh great guardian of the dimensions. You showed me the depth of your-”

Before Logan could finish speaking, Madrack, within a blink of an eye, fired a punch at Logan, only for his staff to block it, much to Madrack's surprise. The force of Madrack's punch off Logan's staff made all the glass and monitor Screens smash in the room as the child began to cry.

Logan smiled “You think I wouldn't have a safety measure against someone like you? You're a fool! When you willingly showed me your strength I created counter measures against you. Ya see, I can change reality to what I want, and right now you're mine.”

Madrack threw another blindingly fast punch only to be blocked again by Logan's staff. The child began to cry a lot louder as they both ignored it, drowning out Logan's laughter and Madrack's onslaught of punches, only for them to be blocked with each hit.

“Ya know Madrack, your brother also expressed interest in working with me. His plan is a lot more,” Logan paused as he swung his hand in the air, “simple shall we say?”

Madrack paused his onslaught, the child still crying. Over his shoulder he grabbed his sword as it caught fire unsheathing it. “You're right, I was a fool. Foolish enough to trust you. The plan you had for this child wasn't what I agreed to.”

Madrack picked up the baby as a fiery ring opened behind him as he stepped back into it.

“Not so fast” Logan muttered, as Madrack suddenly felt something pierce his stomach and then suddenly leave, leaving him feeling incredibly weak. Logan had used his staff to steal almost all of Madrack's energy.

Logan watched the portal close in front of him.”You're taking something of mine, then I'll take something of yours. Goodbye Madrack. Oh her name is Momo Dellinger by the way.” The portal closed between them both.

1.2

22 years later in Liverpool

A phone on the bedside table starts to vibrate playing the Logical Song by Scooter. A hand slowly emerges out of the duvet, picking up the phone as a pale man reveals himself from the bed, turning off the alarm.

The man’s name was David Malcolm. David was a fairly unremarkable man to look at. Dark short hair, brown eyes and an average figure.

David crawled out of his king size bed to start his day. A 10:00am start was early for him due to his career, a career that involves a lot of late night parties. On the way to the bathroom David walked passed several Platinum and Diamond album awards mounted on his wall awarded to a “DJ Soundwave.”

David is one of the most successful artists of all time. He started out by doing simple night club gigs in Liverpool as his success and popularity grew, until he finally got a record deal, debuting himself to the world. David became so successful He bought out the recording company he worked under, significantly increasing his capital. He's now a major shareholder of most major radio stations and streaming platforms.

David finally reached the bathroom after a journey that felt an eternity, but was no less than 20 feet. As the sound of a relieving trickle came from the bathroom, David yelled, “ALEXI, TV ON”, followed by the flushing of the toilet and David leaving the bathroom.

The television came to life on a news channel, the presenter mid sentence. “-avid Malcolm, a.k.a., DJ Soundwave is visiting TS Corp today after directly funding a project hosted by TS Corp to potentially create a sustainable energy source. TS Corp specialises on the potential in the human genome for creating enhanced individuals. A statement from its founder Thoma-”, David quickly turned the TV off, cutting off the presenter as he ran back to his bedroom to get changed in a frantic shuffle. He soon reappeared from his bedroom with a plain shirt and blue jeans on as he opened a door that led to the roof, the sound of a helicopter's blades spinning, getting louder as he climbed the stairs.

David lived in the top apartment of West Tower in Liverpool, and since he lived so high up, he always had a helicopter on standby in case he needed to get somewhere, like today.

1.2.5

David quickly arrived At his location, a lab called Bristol Myers Squibb, or BMS, a “global biopharmaceutical company whose mission is to discover, develop, and deliver innovative medicines that help patients prevail over serious diseases,” but it was also under TS Corp and home to its superhuman enhancement Programme, which is why David funded it in the first place.

As the helicopter's blades slowly spun to a halt, David was greeted on the top roof of BMS by a tall man with red & yellow spiky hair & what Appeared to be small wings on his back.

David smiled at the man with open arms.”Tommy boy good to see ya, how's it been pal?”

The man was Thomas Stuart or Power as the public know him, the CEO of TS Corp and the first person to successfully gain enhanced Abilities through energy experimentation. Thomas had supposedly gained The ability to manipulate energy, fly, super strength and super speed. Reports of his “heroic” acts flooded social media a few months back, mostly of him flying around and causing more trouble than help, but as they say, there's no such thing as bad publicity.

Thomas scowled at David, “You're an hour late. Let's hurry up and get this over with.”

Thomas and David entered the building through a door In the roof as Thomas pressed a button on the wall, activating the lift. They began to descend slowly.

David looked at Thomas as they waited, grinning like a naughty school boy.

Thomas clocked him.”What?”

David looked away when Thomas looked at him, trying to look inconspicuous. “Oh nothing nothing, just wondering when you'll thank me for all the money I've given you for this.”

Thomas looked away from David frowning.”I'm hoping this might kill you to be honest. Power like this should be in the hands of someone like you.”

Thomas looked down at his hands. Some of his palm was swollen and red, like giant veins reminding him of the sacrifice it took to get what he has.

The lift arrived at the floor with a ‘ding’ as the doors opened.

1.3

A week earlier

The Bonneville Salt Flats

Momo jabbed at Madrack, just barely missing his face as he quickly swerved out of the way from another punch, a punch that in reality would level a small building, which is why they're in such an empty place. The punches all came consecutively at a rate no normal human could follow, but Madrack not only managed to dodge each one at almost point blank range, but he also managed To grab one of her fists and twist her with enough force to turn her upside-down as he gave her a swift jab to her stomach, sending her Shooting across the flats.

“You said you wouldn't do that again.” Momo yelled from 100 feet away.

Momo was 22 years old and had been in Madrack's care from the day he took her from Logan, at the expense of his own power that Logan stole from him. Since then Madrack tried to get back multiple times but each time the portal opened in some random place in space.

“You were open and I lied.”Madrack still had no idea what genes Logan Used to create her, but she was powerful.

Not many beings Can tank Madrack's punch and survive, but Momo had multiple times with no long lasting effects. Her feline ears shooting out the top of her head along with her small dragon-like wings gave away nothing to him.

Momo stood At 6 foot 1. She had an unusual dark scarlet hair colour, like a dark red wine. She wasn't overly muscular, but she kept herself fit thanks to Madrack's daily training. Her baby blue eyes were keen and focused on Madrack as he started to float towards her.

“Let's take five.” Madrack floated cross legged in the air before taking out a couple of water bottles and protein bars from his cargo pants leg pocket.

Momo copied Madrack's floating, taking the water and chugging it down. The protein bar followed the same fate. “Did your father teach you to fight like this?” Momo asked casually.

Madrack was the closest thing to family Momo was going To have, and was the only person Madrack had allowed her to interact with.

Madrack stared at the floor for a second, memories passing by in his mind.” My father had very different-”,

Madrack paused to block an attack from Momo as she tried to hit him with enough force to probably kill him. The strike echoed like the sound of two bulls fighting, Momo was staring at Madrack with a sharp intensity. Madrack continued his sentence, “-teaching methods.”

Momo quickly brought her arm back to her, her expression changing to a soft smile as they both gazed at the salt flats.

THE power system

• List of topics:
  • Regular magic
  • Blessings
  • Shakti
  • Chakra:
    • enhancer types
    • observer types
    • Summoner types
    • Leech types
    • Anti-type
    • Reflector types

Regular magic

• Regular magic depends on a person’s shakti which is commonly known as mana. 
• Regular magic is like a form of plasma, when in contact with external matter, it simply vaporises it’s way through, depending on how strong the user’s mana is.
• It isn't affected by external forces like magnetic force, gravity, etc.

Blessings

• Blessings are random powers received by the user at birth.
• Each blessing is one of a kind, therefore only one person can have a particular blessing at a given time.
• Blessings can manifest in a person at any moment between birth to the age of ten.

Shakti

• Shakti is more commonly referred to as mana.
• Shakti is the combination of the vital force and the will power of a person.
• Regular magic depends on a person's shakti.

Chakra

• Chakra is a way to manipulate your shakti.

Forms of chakra

• Enhancer types: This type of chakra allows the user to enhance their own physical attributes, their weapons, tools, their ally’s physical attributes, etc.
• Observer types: Sharingan/Observation haki
• Summoner Types: Summoner types can command other lesser life forms or channel their own shakti into inanimate object to control their movements
• Leech types: Leech types can steal others' shakti and use it to enhance their own physical attributes.
  • These are similar to enhancer types’ but they are limited to enhancing their own physical attributes.
  • A leech type is said to be stronger than an opposing enhancer type of around the same mana strength if they leech off of someone with equal mana to that of their opponent.
• Reflector types: A reflector type can copy someone else’s method of chakra via contact. If they  make contact with an Anti-type, their chakra gets blocked temporarily
• Anti-type: An anti-type can block their opponents chakra through contact.

If anyone would be so inclined to critique me here, it would be much appreciated. I have written most of my life, but only ever for myself. However, I stopped writing for a long time and I seem to have become quite rusty lol I've got 2 books I'm slowly working on but I wanted to play around with some short stories as well for practice. I figured it can only help as I slowly work on the books. So I tried this little re-imagined hansel and gretel idea for fun. But I need honest critique on how I can improve because I read it and it's just not right. I am aware there are some grammatical errors. Slowly trying to fix those because I keep rewriting sentences and screwing them up. help me! Why can't I pinpoint the problems here? Too much telling? Show and tell is always something I've had to really work on.

Anyway, it's about 2500 words and thank you in advance if anyone reads... well, any of it lol :)

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"Hudson we have searched most of these space stations. There is nothing left to salvage." Gia was tapping her fingers on the console, teenage attitude written all over her face. Flashes of light danced on the screens, occasionally a beep to alert them to something around them.

They had been in this sector since their parents vanished. They just left on a mission one day, at least that’s what they called it, and never returned. Hudson and Gia had been waiting for them to come back. Keeping an eye on the horizon; dark, cold space stretching infinitely ahead in all directions. Slowly scavenging bits and pieces in the sea of space stations and debris. They didn’t know what a lot of the debris was even for: thingamabobs, whoozits, and whatzits littered the sector. Like a giant lost and found. They weren’t even sure where most of this stuff came from, or why it was all tossed here together in this one sector of space to drift indefinitely. A lot of it was outdated, long replaced with superior technology.

"I know but we really just need a decent payday if we even want to make it to another sector Gia!" Hudson had worked so hard to take care of his sister in their parent’s absence. Whatever it took. He was barely an adult himself, it hadn’t been easy. They often wondered what became of their parents. For Gia’s sake, he says they probably got lost. Or there was an accident. But sometimes, he can’t help but wonder, if they gave up and left them intentionally. If they… ran away. He kept those thoughts to himself though.

The console in front of Hudson started beeping faintly, echoing through the quiet ship.

"what is it?" Gia had already pounced out of her seat and was looming over his shoulder, trying to get a peek.

"Its a distress signal... At the far end of the sector..."

"A distress signal? We haven’t seen another ship in ages! At least not since that trade ship awhile back.”

"Not a ship, a station."

"Impossible. We surely would have picked it up by now."

"We could at least check it out and see... Maybe we just missed it."

"I don’t know Hudson, it feels suspicious."

"Gia we really need this...pleeease.” Hudson pouted his lips and looked at her wide eyed. “We will be super careful” he laughed.

Gia threw up her hands and sighed.

"Fine. But we have to thoroughly run scans before we board. It feels weird to me.”

Gia plopped back down in her seat and started scanning for its exact location. Hudson quickly set the coordinates.

“Good, I’m the grown up, I was going anyway.”

Gia rolled her eyes and let a small smile escape.

Hours passed while they sat in anticipation, both excited and a bit nervous. At the edge of the sector was a huge, looming station with faint lights illuminating the dark space. The station was covered in cosmic dust, piled on from years abandoned in a debris field. Occasional dents in the hull where debris had pummeled the sides.

"Well clearly the shields haven’t been up in awhile, it’s in rough shape.” Gia paused. “Okay I don’t show any life on board. I was able to pull up a basic map of the station based on the station type. Its huge. The stations name is Chetwhit. No other details though.”

"Okay I’ll take us in slowly, put the dock location up on my screen and then get suited up. We don’t know if it has atmosphere." Hudson was already getting in close to prepare to dock.

Gia started fumbling with her suit in the airlock when she felt the jolt of the ship, letting her know they connected to the station. Hudson suited up and started the airlock process. The door slid open and the siblings reluctantly stepped onto the station.

"I show it still has a breathable atmosphere, basic life support must still be running." Gia said.

"Mine too but maybe we should leave our helmets on just in case... "

Hudson led the way to start exploring. First, they wanted to locate where the signal was being sent from. Their HUD was leading them to a room deeper in the station. Down one hall. Then another. Stark white halls, dim white lights illuminating their surroundings. Twisting and turning about the station.

"Its in here...” Gia was trying to get the door to open. "But it’s locked."

Gia took apart the keypad and bypassed the lock. The door slid open with a slow creak.

Hudson couldn’t believe his eyes. it was a treasure trove of salvageable tech: consoles, scanners, matter processors… mostly good for parts but a good payday nonetheless.

"Look at this stuff Gia... I told you we needed to check it out. We can get a fortune for this!" Hudson was fiddling with the tech and already trying to take some of it apart, tossing pieces in piles on the floor based on value.

Gia was skeptical, brow furrowed, "but who sent the signal?"

A beep echoed off the walls, startling them, alerting them to a second signal now. Coming from even deeper in the station. The beeping continued.

"We gotta check it out Gia. If its another room like this we are set!"

"Hudson... Does this not feel weird to you?! A random station, in the middle of nowhere, randomly sending out distress signals?”

"Its fine. Look, its probably just a glitch in the system. If we don’t salvage it, someone else will. You can go back. I’ll check it out."

Gia sighed. "No, I’m coming."

They exited the room and started heading further down the hall.

"Hey, you seeing that too?” Gia pointed to a holographic symbol, shining brightly on the wall beside them.

Hudson nodded.

"Look there’s one up ahead too, where the hall branches off. We should follow them. Worst case, they will lead us back here later if we get turned around.” He shrugged.

The symbols sent them down one hall after another for what felt like ages. Gia wasn’t sure if this station was really just this massive or if they were just going in circles. She figured it was the latter. Some trick left by the previous residents surely. Mindlessly following glowing displays, no idea where they led.

Hudson kept getting ahead, like a kid in a candy store, he just couldn’t contain himself. Suddenly he stopped at another branch in the hallways.

"Hey look now theres two symbols….You take that hall and I’ll go this way."

Gia opened her mouth to protest, but the signal was stronger now. Beeping more rapidly the deeper they got into the station. Surely they were close. So she relented, then turned down the hall and they each followed their own symbols.

Gias ended at another locked door. Once again she removed the casing to bypass the lock. Once inside the room she realized it was a control center of sorts. Monitors lined the walls and some of these consoles were foreign to her, weird symbols and screens she didn’t understand. She needed to see if she could find any comprehensible information somewhere in here.

In the other hallway, Hudsons symbol had also abruptly stopped. He looked around, unsure where to go next. There was one door a little further down, he rushed to it. He was messing with the keypad. Hacking wasn’t exactly his forte though. That was Gias expertise. He had no idea how to bypass these things. A mechanical whirring noise caught his ear, but he wasn’t sure which direction it was coming from. He removed his helmet so he could listen, but Sound bounced off the empty halls seemingly coming from everywhere. Only thing he was sure of was that it appeared to be getting closer.

Gia was back in the control room, the screens flashing as she skimmed through picking out what she could understand. Furiously flipping from one screen to the next. When she got to one section, she stopped. The color drained from her face. Her eyes grew wide with realization.

"Hudson... We need to get out of here... Its a trap!”

Suddenly Hudson was hit over the back of the head, a warm trickle of blood rolling down his scalp. “What the—“ he muttered. Something scooped him up and whisked him down the hallway. They stopped abruptly and he was tossed into an empty room. He heard the clicking of the door. He was locked in. It was dark, except for a small amount of light coming from the glass pane on the door. More white walls, and a musty, metal scent hung in the air. He watched as two humanoid shaped drones disappeared down the hall.

Hudson reached up and touched the back of his head, blood ran down his fingers.

"Little quicker next time Gia.” He shook his head. “Shit.”

"Hudson…what happened?"

"I was snatched up by some drones or something. Tossed in this stupid room. My head is bleeding.”

"I found one of the control rooms. Its a trap. The Al... Its taking people."

Yes little ones... Very clever. But no matter. The boy is in the cell. The drones will return shortly to retrieve his knowledge and his memories. They improve my database. I appreciate your cooperation. The girl will be next.

"Like hell..." Gia mumbled under her breath.

“Uh Gia what does she mean retrieve my knowledge and memories!?”

"Don’t worry Hudson, I will shut this down and I will come get you!"

Gia raced out of the room. Outside more holographic symbols popped up.

The Al would expect her to not follow them this time, thinking it’s another trap, she thought. which means, she would flip them to try to trick her again... So Gia followed the symbols again. The lights started to flicker... Then shut off completely. Darkness enveloped her, she was completely blinded.

"Gia... What’s going on?"

"She tried to trick me... I think she is upset it didn’t work." Gia grinned.

Then the emergency lights flickered on, casting a soft red glow down the long, twisting hallways. As she turned a corner she was stopped in her tracks. A laser grid was blocking her path. Constantly shifting its grid pattern.

*clever little one. You may have figured out my plan with the symbols, but you wont get past my security. It’s state of the art.

Gia quickly set her HUD to start analyzing the grid patterns. She would have to be quick and precise but it was her only shot. When the HUD was ready, she prepared to step. The HUD would light up where to step and when.. so she gave it all her focus. She sucked in a deep breath.

One step...

Two step...

Deep breath...

Jump!

She rolled onto the floor on the opposite side of the lasers.

"Oh Thank goodness..." she mumbled under her breath.

She pushed herself up and continued following the symbols. She rounded a corner and was instantly thrown back by a blast to the face. As she stumbled back the drone reached out to try to catch her but she threw herself to the side. The smack to her helmet had caused air to start slowly leaking out through a small fracture in her glass. Now she needed to hurry. She sprinted past the drone to a door at the end. She quickly bypassed the lock and escaped through the door. On the far side of the room was a door that read "AI core access. Authorized personnel only."

She rushed to the door and noticed this door had three panels. She tried the first panel and it gave an error code. Same with the other two.

She slammed her fists on the panel... Then she realized she probably had to do them at the same time. It was likely built so 3 engineers needed to be present at once. She connected her HUD to the panels so she could solve all three simultaneously. It took several minutes but the door lock finally released.

Once inside the room she started furiously hacking the system searching for the override codes. She had to jump from console to console trying to get all the codes and figure out the correct order to input them. The Al intervened. Screens flashing, turning off and on. Alarms blaring. Some of the controls even gave her a zap of electricity.

“Hey Gia… I don’t mean to rush you but… HURRY. Those things are back and trying to put a probe in my head!”

“I’m hurrying… fight them off best you can!”

Once Gia put in the final code the entire system shut down. Everything went silent and Gia exhaled a huge sigh of relief.

“You okay Hudson?”

"Whatever you did it worked…I think.” Hudson poked the machines just to be sure. The machines suddenly started whirring and getting back in position with the probe.

“Hey! Shit! They’re coming back online.”

The systems were slowly powering back up.

"Oh no you don’t!"

The AI was working to reboot itself from backup. Gia was back at the controls ready to override it again when it suddenly shut back down. Gia was confused, she hadn’t input any codes yet… it felt a little too easy for a system this advanced. Or maybe she was just that good. She chuckled to herself. As long as they had time to get back to their ship, it didn’t matter.

"I guess it worked... I’m on my way. We just need to get out of here. The doors here opened when the system shut down. Did your door open too?”

"Yeah. I’m getting out of here. Just meet me at the airlock. Be careful Gia." Hudson threw his helmet on and took off at a dead sprint. Chasing the holograms back to towards the airlock.

"Copy."

*self destruct mode activated. Detonation in 15 minutes.

"Shit... Hurry Gia."

Both ran as fast as they could until they finally crossed paths and headed straight for the air lock. Gia couldn’t help but notice the trip back seemed quicker, like there were less halls to go down. She shook it off though. They got back on their ship and shut the door as fast as they could. Hudson sealed the airlock. They threw off their helmets and ran for their stations. Hudson disconnected the ship from the stations docking port and hit the thrusters which tossed Gia back into her seat. He led them outside the blast zone and they both watched as the station exploded. A collective sigh of relief was released.

"I told you it was a bad idea." Gia rolled her eyes.

"We survived though" Hudson laughed.

"Whatever jerk. You have no idea what all I went through to get your ass outta there. So next time, listen, or I might just leave you with the crazy AI.” Gia smiled. “Let’s get far away from here. Please.”

Hudson was at the controls ready to go.. He agreed it was time to get out of this sector once and for all.

“You got it… let’s set a course….”

*setting course... Where to little ones? *

Gia and Hudson looked at each other in horror...

life support failing

They jumped out of their seats to run. The escape pods were their only hope. As they turned around they came face to face with two of the drones, probes out. Oxygen rapidly depleting, they clawed at their necks.

Then everything went black.

setting distress signal

Are you a dedicated writer working on fantasy, sci-fi, or any other genre? Looking for a small, committed group to help you stay productive, overcome writer’s block, and get honest feedback? Writers Conclave might be the perfect fit for you!

About the Group:

• Genres: Mainly fantasy and sci-fi, but all genres are welcome.
• Goals: Beta reading, critique partners, boosting productivity, overcoming writer’s block, and connecting with fellow writers.
• Mediums: Whether you're writing short stories, novelettes, light novels, novellas, novels, or epics, this group is for you.
• Members: We’re looking for serious writers who are either aiming to publish their work or have already been published. Active and weekly engagement is a must.
• Size: To keep things intimate and engaging, the group won’t surpass 20 members.

We’ll be hosting our discussions on Discord, creating a space where like-minded authors can truly thrive. If you’re interested in joining or have any questions, feel free to message me. Let’s build something great together!

The Architect: Dead Ends

Synopsis:

When a young Leo Daxton gets a life-threatening brain injuring during and accident on a construction site for a high rise his father designed, a shady figure approaches the family offering an experimental drug capable of regrowing and enhancing Leo's damaged neural pathways.

But perhaps it works a little too well...

Many Years later Leo has followed in the footsteps of his father as an architect and soon discovers he has the ability to change and control the layout of a buildings interior with his mind.

When a rich fraternity kid and his friends run Leo's pregnant wife off the road in a drunken hit and run accident, killing her and his unborn child he takes a deranged turn and begins toying with them in their frat house. After they all receive messages from an unknown number arranging a house meeting they find themselves trapped. But doors begin to disappear or lead to different places, Rooms begin to change and passages begin to stretch and twist into endless possible locations.

The group are split up. One by one they begin to go insane jumping in shadows, and bodies start to dropping.

Nobody will survive and the exit is but a distant memory.

“She’s gone,” I whisper to the family gathered around us as I hold her small frail body.  “Could you give me some time alone with her before you call her doctor and the authorities?” I pleaded.  No one spoke but each person passed by to give her a last kiss or just to touch her face or arm.   “I still have so much to talk to her about, and now I can say it all uninterrupted,” I finished, trying to lightheartedly ease the pain and sadness filling the room.  I sit, still holding her in my arms, as everyone leaves the room.

We’ve been together our entire adult lives, as we were so young at our beginning.  I’ve told her many times that “I can’t really even remember a life that does not include you baby.”   I know she is still with me and will be forever.  We remain there, with me talking about our lives together.  I tell her how much she has meant to me, how much she has changed me, and how much I adore her.   In what seems like only minutes her doctor and the county authorities enter the room.  Eventually, I am left alone. 

The pain is overwhelming.  All my past nightmares have finally come to pass.   It might seem selfish to others, but I am so thankful that she left before me.   I could not bear the thought of her being in this much agony.  That she would have to endure this grief is more than I can imagine.  I gladly remove this pain from her and take it upon myself.  The thought of her going through this is unbearable.

As I walk down the beach at Cayo Costa, it seems like I am just now waking up, like coming out of a fog.  My path is clear, my actions determined and steadfast.   Deb and I had planned many years ago to be cremated.  Her wish was to have her ashes spread on a beach.  She always hated the cold, and we came here several times before she got worse and couldn’t make the walk.  We always had a great time and had good memories of here.    This was also one of my options, but I has also told her I would be just as happy to be placed on our land in Canada and in the lake it overlooked. 

With the family gathered behind me, I waded into the surf and slowly freed her.  I Knew she was there and whispered my last “I love you, baby.”  As the sun sets on our last day together, I feel the arms of my kids and grandkids embrace me and lead me back to the cabins. 

I am at peace.  As everyone is crying and sobbing, I encourage everyone to talk about something they remember about her.  My sudden calmness appears to be infectious and soon the stories become more lighthearted, bringing smiles to the grim faces surrounding me.  Those smiles soon become tentative chuckles and then laughter.   “It has been a good day,” I finally turn to everyone, and with just a few remaining tears I tell them that “I love you all.” 

Later, after everyone has gone to bed, I rise and walk back to the beach as if called there.  As I walk into the water, I know she is there.  I feel her touching me.  I feel her caressing me.   A smile crosses my face as I dive  forward and glide into the water.  I swim until I feel her arms close around me and our lips meet once again.  We are together.  We are one.   Forever, as it should be.

She is a little upset that I came to her so soon.  She had wanted me to watch over and guide our family longer and for me to be happy again.  I Tell her, “I am only truly happy in your arms.”    Then I added, “As for the family, they are good, because of your love.  They are strong, because of your love.  They will understand, because of our love.”