#Emergency Elevator Repair

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[roseyodditea]

Just Fix It - Wriothesley x gn! Reader

Summary -> 1.2k words. Your repair work is interrupted and then ruined by The Duke himself.

Warnings -> Swearing, Minor injuries.

A/N -> I love the idea of being a mechanic in Meropide. lmk if it's actually interesting to anyone that isn't me and I can write more. I'm just testing the waters with this one lmao

**********

For the first time in a long time, the halls of the Fortress of Meropide were quiet. The consistent and loud clanging of heavy machinery was absent, much to the pleasure of a lot of the prisoners. However, prisoners that were close to the elevator could hear the shouting of the scariest man under the water and the most stubborn person to probably ever exist. The shouts of The Duke and you, the head mechanic of the Fortress. 

“Get down from there!” Wriothesley shouted at the top of one of the large presses in the production zone where you stood, 10 feet in the air. His tone was half amused and half frustrated.

“You aren’t my boss! I don’t take orders from you!” You chuckled, standing in triumph on top of the machinery, holding nothing but an angle grinder. “I am literally your boss!” You let out a scoff. “I am an employee of the Fontaine Research Institute of Kinetic Energy Engineering. I am on loan to you, bitch.” A few of the newer prisoners looked away in fear as you insulted The Duke, not understanding the dynamic between the two of you.

“How much longer do you have on the repairs?” He rolls his eyes, trying not to laugh in front of others.

You scoff and return to cutting off some of the warped metal of the old press. “Not too much longer. I’m just cleaning up some metal that’s causing some of that god-awful screeching. I could fix it faster if you stopped distracting me.”

“Just hurry up and fix it. You’re wasting my precious time.” “What, you planning on dying soon, old man?” You snort to yourself and duck as a wrench is thrown dangerously close to your head, the guards and prisoners in the production zone moving to quickly leave now that metal was being thrown around. You put down the angle grinder and stand up, looking down at Wriothesley. “Say that again.” He looks at you with that cocky smirk you’ve grown to love and picks up a hammer from the toolbox you left on the ground.

“Careful there. That’s heavy, you might throw out your back trying to toss that all the way up here.” You taunt and hold your arms out wide, making yourself a bigger target. 

Wriothesley was throwing the hammer when the high-pitched sound of someone clearing their throat caused your blood to run cold. “Need I remind you both of the strict safety procedures we have in place?” Sigewinne’s voice immediately caused you to panic, looking away from Wriothesley, not realizing the hammer had already left his hand. You were about to say something when the hammer flew towards you. Panic ran through your body as instinct took over, dodging backwards, but losing your footing and falling off of the top of the machinery. Before you fully realized you were falling a ramp of ice emerged and broke your fall, but causing you to catch your wrist as the transition from ice to metal flooring caused you to roll. You didn’t even try to get up, a throbbing sensation in your wrist overpowering you. Two sets of footsteps approached you quickly. Sigewinne grabbed the wrist you landed on and furrowed her eyebrows, your body relaxing now that you knew you were in good hands.

“It’s just a sprain. It should heal just fine in a month” Sigewinne went to grab one of the first aid kits always kept in the production zone. She took out some wraps to help stabilize your wrist when Wriothesley grabbed it from her. 

“I’ll take care of it. It’s my fault they got injured in the first place.” He nodded at Sigewinne and she took that as an order to leave the both of you alone. He took your wrist in his hand and began to gently wrap it. “I’m sorry. That was stupid of me.” 

You tried to ignore the pain in your wrist and chuckled. “Yeah, it kinda was.” You watch his hands move around yours shockingly delicately, his brows furrowed in concentration as he looks down at your hand. “It’s really not a big deal. This isn’t the worst sprain I’ve gotten from climbing on equipment like that. I should have expected it.” Wriothesley shakes his head. “Stop that. This is serious. I hurt you and now you can’t work.” “Oh come on. You have plenty of other mechanics at your beck and call that will come to fix this and do it safer than I would.” You were met with silence, Wriothesley still focused on your wrist, refusing to look up into your eyes. “Unless you have a personal attachment to this one?”

“How bad does it hurt?” He tried to push down the lump he found stuck in his throat, but it still made his voice crackle in a way you hadn’t heard before. “Oh my god, you do have an emotional attachment.” You move your wrist closer to your body. Wriothesley doesn’t seem to notice and moves closer. “Just tell me how bad it hurts. I can get you some medicine from the infirmary, or I can-” “Oh shut up.” You pull him even closer, but this time he notices. Neither of you make any move to back away from each other. “I’m not worried about my wrist anymore. Something more interesting came up.” Wriothesley finishes wrapping your wrist, the support lessening your pain. He wraps his fingers around your wrist and you feel a chill creeping up your arm, his cryo vision glowing subtly as he tries to soothe the inevitable swelling. “I find your company enjoyable. You bring a sense of fun and light I never could afford to have in my life until recently. And the fact that you’re willing to consistently make the trip down here to this damp metal prison means a lot.” He sighs and shakes his head. “And for some stupid reason, I got wrapped up in the moment and threw a hammer at you when you were already in a precarious situation without any sort of safety harness on.” He fully sat down instead of just awkwardly crouching over you.

“And who’s fault is it I wasn’t wearing a safety harness?” “Mine. I’m your boss and I’ve been letting you get away with not wearing one for far too long.”

You let out an exaggerated groan. “You’re not technically my boss. You don’t even sign my paychecks.” “Can’t you let me have anything?” He lets a playful smirk grace his face, the chill making you forget all about your pain. “You’re one of the few people I trust with half the old equipment in this prison. What am I going to do for the next month while you’re healing?”

You moved to rest your head on his shoulder. “You know I’d make a good supervisor.” You wiggle your wrist out of his grip and slide your arm to hold his hand, not minding they were still ice cold.

“For me or other mechanics?” He asked with a hopeful tone in his voice, leaning in slightly.

“I think you know that answer.” You lean in the rest of the way, placing a quick and gentle kiss on his lips. 

“Hmm. I‘ve never heard of that supervision strategy.” “You’re a fucking idiot”

**********

[brookie-kookie1943]

Hero of the Heart

Jack Traven x fem!Reader - Fluff

So, this is basically a self insert but I’ve changed and added a few things. I don’t know - I really liked this idea and I think it’s easier to start with considering my long hiatus of writing lol

(All these photos are from Pinterest)

Warnings: Use of y/n, incredibly cliche, cursing.

~~~~~~

Maybe it was when you woke up late, or maybe when you accidentally tripped going down the stairs. It could’ve been when you spilled your hot coffee all over your arm. However, as you sit here in this elevator, you realize this is the worst thing to happen all day.

It had stopped moving about thirty minutes ago - or maybe an hour - there’s a lot of maybes in this situation. All you know is that bad luck had struck again and now you’re in an elevator stuck between the twenty-second and twenty-third floor. And at your job, no less. Doesn’t the universe know you’re too busy right now for this shit?

Of course, you freaked out at first - who would want to be stuck, alone, in a box made of hundreds of pounds of steel? You pressed the emergency button until you finally got a response, letting those firefighters know what kind of predicament you were in. At least you were going to be saved by sexy firemen!

The shock and fear wore off a little and now you were sitting up against the wall. Waiting for movement, for people - anything. What you couldn’t hear was the sound of ticking above your head. That sound was one Jack Traven knew very well.

Unbeknownst to you - yours wasn’t the only elevator to have mysteriously stopped. There was another elevator stuck between the thirtieth and thirty-first floor. The difference was: no bomb went off above yours, but it sure was ticking.

After waiting for what seemed like forever, you heard a drilling noise above you. It made you panic - what the hell is that? Hopefully it was someone coming to save you from this terrible, horrible, no good, very bad day.

“Ladies and gentlemen, this is the LAPD!” You heard a man’s voice above the elevator. You felt a sigh of relief leave you, looking up at the ceiling despite knowing you won’t see the man who called out to you.

“It’s just a lady!” You responded, a lighthearted way to let the officers know it was just you. You were cursed by not being able to see the handsome smile spread across Jack’s face at your answer - despite the situation.

“Well ma’am, I promise I’ll have you out of there as soon as possible.” He tells you, and you feel curiosity fill you. What even put you in this situation in the first place?

“What happened to the elevator?” You ask, not wanting to admit that you sort of feared the answer. Jack knew he couldn’t tell you that there was a bomb strapped to the cables of the elevator you were on - and it could blow up when the timer went off if not deactivated.

“There was a malfunction, nothing serious. Just relax, ma’am.” He told you. You couldn’t help but believe him. After all, he sounded so calm and cool, and he brought that effect on to you. It took a few minutes for it to dawn on you that you were talking to a police officer.

Anxiety filled your chest once again at this thought. Why did they send officers? You called firefighters - you expected firefighters. You expected maybe even repair guys. If only you knew that Jack wasn’t just an officer. He was apart of the bomb squad. On the SWAT team. You would freak.

You can’t help but curl up where you sit on the floor. Somehow tears aren’t falling from your eyes - which would totally ruin your mascara. You’re scared, yes, but you can’t seem to express it. Little do you know that Jack is scared too. And he can’t express it either.

He’s got this gut feeling that this lunatic who put bombs on these elevators isn’t using hostages for easy bribing money. No - these hostages aren’t potential collateral. The maniac is going to blow them up anyway, whether he gets the money or not.

Despite the protests from his partner Harry, preferring they follow Captain McMahon’s orders and wait, the cog wheels are already turning in Jack’s head. The lunatic can bomb the elevators all he wants - they just have to take you out of the equation.

All the while, you are contemplating just the same as Jack. Your thoughts are much more melancholic, though. Maybe you should have thanked your mother more for those ugly shoes, or talked to your father about something that wasn’t money related. So many maybes and not one is about you potentially surviving this situation. You have got to calm down.

It is less than calm on the outside of this elevator, though. More officers are trying to remove hostages on the other elevator before their time runs out - which they have a lot less time then you do. At this point, you’re the only one that hasn’t been let in on the sick joke of possible death.

Jack won’t let that happen, though. He’s hooked up a long cable to the elevator from a crane on the roof which should hold you up if it start to fall. Then, there’s a sudden explosion to test that theory.

You let out a scream as a large explosion happens over your head, and you begin to fall farther and farther down. You cling to the handlebar on the wall before everything stabilizes once again. Well - the theory was somewhat successful and now you’re in on the sick joke.

“What the hell is happening!” You scream to anyone that may possibly hear you. Jack is quick to respond despite his panting and the sound of his heart beating in his chest. “It’s alright, ma’am, everything’s alright!”

“Is there a bomb on this elevator?!” You say in a panic, a little annoyed by his forced reassurance. Everything is definitely not ok. “…yes, there is. I’m sorry, ma’am.” He reluctantly informs you. You don’t think you’ve dreaded an answer more in your life.

You wish you would’ve had a bit more time to process that answer but the elevator jerks downwards more and more. Maybe that theory wasn’t so successful after all. You breathe frantically, trying to stay as still as possible as if it will help stop the moving.

Jack and Harry are already running from the elevator shaft to the small lobby to catch you before you fall between another floor. In spite of your weak attempts to stop the movements, you only seem to be jerking more violently. It’s so bad you can barely stand straight - this was a horrible day to wear heels.

By some blessing of God, you watch as the elevator doors are pried open. Not much time for celebrating when you’re still in this damn thing. You’re finally face to face with what you assume is the cop you’ve been talking to - and his familiar calm and cool voice only proves it.

“Come on! Take my hand!” Jack yells to you; his voice isn’t so calm and cool now. You don’t hesitate, wobbling your way over to him as quickly as humanly possible. You scream as the elevator shifts downwards for the umpteenth time - now only leaving a small gap between the exit and the metal wall blocking your path.

This it it. If it slides down any further, there won’t be an escape for you. Jack knows it and so do you. He reaches his hand further out to you, wrapping his large hand around your wrist to pull you closer. You quickly wrap your arms around his broad shoulders as he lifts you out of the moving elevator.

Your left heel slips off your foot just as you’re being pulled out by Jack, but you’re smart enough to not care. It’s like your Cinderella or something - though you don’t think someone will ever recover that shoe; the elevator as already started plummeting to the bottom.

Throughout the chaos, Jack pulling you out sends the both of you falling on the ground. You’re still quivering in fear in his arms as he tries to relax you and himself. “You’re alright. You’re safe. You’ve got to evacuate.”

You nod and slip your other heel off when you stand back up. You hold the shoe in your hand as you make sure to put some distance between you and this damn building. Ambulances are around - helping and caring for the other hostages that were in your situation not even ten minutes ago.

You think it’s been about an hour before anything major happens. You’ve been sitting the back of an ambulance; tears dried and a blanket around your arms. Thankfully no one, including you, was injured during the rescue. That is, until you see someone being wheeled out of the building in a stretcher.

It sort of looks like that blonde haired cop that helped save you earlier. He’s awake…but there’s something wrong with his leg. Then, you see his partner following closely behind - the same one you practically climbed on. You want to say thank you, so you wait until he’s done checking on his partner.

“Hey, um, I just want to say thank you for saving my life. I could never repay you.” You say sincerely, and you could swear you saw a small blush fill Jack’s face as he responds humbly. “It’s my job, ma’am. No need to thank me.”

You smile before looking over at his partner, visibly cringing when you see the bullet wound in his leg. “Is he going to be alright? What happened to him?”

“Oh, Harry will be fine. I shot him.” Jack informs you with a sweet smile - as if he didn’t process what he just told you. When he sees your confused expression, he sighs a bit embarrassingly. “It’s a long story.”

You give a slow nod. You’re not going to question it any further. Jack looks down at your feet, seeing that you’re wearing the flimsy hospital shoes the ambulance had to offer. “It seems like you found some new kicks, huh?” He jokes lightheartedly, causing you to laugh quietly.

“Yeah. I don’t suppose I’ll ever get that other heel back, will I?” You ask, though you already know the answer. It’s highly unlikely. Jack shakes his head. Something about him tells you he would’ve got it for you if he truly could.

Finally, you get to look at him. Really look at him. You were so rightfully distracted by the thought of death that you didn’t notice how handsome he was. For a moment, you’re glad those sexy firefighters didn’t come and save you. Nothing beats a sexy cop like this man.

“Well, the hostage you saved is Y/N, by the way.” You quip while holding your much smaller hand out to him. He takes your hand - careful not to squeeze - and shakes it with a laugh. “The cop that saved you is Jack Traven if you want to give me a good review.”

“I’ll think about it.” You tease, watching as he leaves you to rest from the traumatic experience you just went through. You’re practically breaking your neck to watch him walk out of your line of sight. What a man. What you wouldn’t give to have a slice of that in your life.

You hope to see him again. After all, you do take the bus to work…

[fazedlight]

Dread (rewriting of Lena’s phantom ordeal in Fear Knot)

Coolant leak error?, Lena thought, reading the screen. “Let me see if the hardware needs repairing,” she said, unfastening her seatbelt and passing Nia to hop onto the elevator.

Her first hint that something was wrong was on the floor of the machine room. As she stepped over a puddle, her mind caught on something. The floor was wet - not with neon green coolant, but water, in a part of the ship where no water piping ran. 

She stepped towards one of the wheels on the wall, checking that the flow was open, that the gauge showed appropriate pressure. There’s no leak, Lena thought, confused. Then what’s causing the-

“Why did you let me drown, Lena?”

Lena spun around, eyes darting to the familiar voice, lost over decades. A pale dead figure, covered in water and kelp, stared back at her - with cold, soulless eyes that sunk back into her skull. “Mother?” Lena said, trembling.

“Why did you let me drown, Lena?”

“I-” Lena was struggling to breathe, as her mother stepped closer, a heavy sloshing of her dress running across the ground. “I- I don’t know why-”

“Why did you let me drown, Lena?”

“I’m sorry,” Lena said, a small part of her mind screaming this isn’t real, but dread flooded the thought out. “I didn’t want- I just couldn’t move-”

But to Lena’s horror, her mother shifted - a translucent creature emerging from a dead woman's body, made of water and shimmers of light. A creature, Lena thought, her eyes wide. An alien creature of some sort.

She ran.

She darted around the being as its rumbling snarl reverberated through the walls. Lena yanked the door open, bolting down the hall, trying to shake off the unexpected grief of seeing her mother again. A kelpie? A shapeshifter of some sort, her mind thought, racing towards the mainroom. “I need help,” Lena yelled into the comms, yanking a second door open, “I need-”

No, Lena’s mind screamed, coming across the surreal scene before her. Please, no…

Brainy. Alex. J’onn. Kelly. All lay dead before her.

Lena halted as horror flooded through her, turning to Nia’s body, which glimmered in silver. “Nia?” Lena whispered, watching as a million sparks seemed to dance along her skin, from her spot slumped over on the control panel. Lena’s eyes widened. Those aren’t-

A cloud of silver withdrew from Nia’s body, flowing to the center of the control room, buzzing and humming in a familiar pattern, as a voice emerged. “Why did you kill me, Lena?”

“Jack?” Lena gasped.

The bots began to take shape in front of her, a man’s familiar face forming, cast in metal rather than human flesh. “Why did you kill me?”

“Jack, I- I didn’t-” Lena said, overwhelming nausea climbing up her throat. “I didn’t want- there was no other choice-”

“Why did you kill me, Lena?”

The kelpie, Lena’s mind screamed. The shapeshifter. It’s not him. He’s not real-

“Come with me, Lena,” Jack said, as his body began to decompose again, the swarm beginning to float in her direction.

No! Lena’s mind screamed, as she turned again on her heel, fleeing towards the backrooms of the ship. Everyone’s dead, everyone’s dead-

Is this how it ends?, she thought as she ran, knowing she could never outrun the nanobots, or the kelpie, or whatever the fuck this creature was. We all die. Kara is lost forever. This can’t be happening-

She found herself ducking into the medbay, scouring the room for anything she could use as a weapon, anything she could use to kill the creature. Kelpies are a myth, she thought to herself, but that brought her little comfort. Shapeshifters were quite real, and this one was going through each member of the ship.

Lena closed her eyes, trying - and failing - to get composure. It’s my fault, she thought, her mind flashing memories of her mother in the lake, of Jack’s begging voice. Did they blame me? Were they angry? Were their last thoughts-

“Why did you let me get sent to the Phantom Zone, Lena?”

Chills ran down Lena’s spine, as the familiar blonde’s voice washed over her. Kara, she thought, feeling her heart hammering through her chest. I can’t save you, I can’t save you… “I’m so sorry,” Lena sobbed.

“You want me in the Phantom Zone.”

“I don’t!” Lena shouted, turning to the blonde before her. Pallid and soulless eyes stared back at her - somehow indifferent, yet menacing. Lena shook, holding back tears. But I’ll never be able to rescue you, not with everyone…

“You hate me,” said the super as she approached, black veins growing on her face. “You despise me.”

“I love you, Kara,” Lena whispered. The creature was going to kill her. She would never be able to say the words to the real Kara. But there was nothing left.

Kara stepped closer to her, again, and again. Lena held back her sobs as Kara’s eyes turned red. This is how it ends, she thought. I’m never going to see you again. Her worst nightmare had become her reality.

Nightmare…

Lena’s brow furrowed as Kara stepped closer. I didn’t kill my mother, she thought to herself, looking up at the kryptonian again. There wasn’t a way for me to save Jack, she thought to herself.

Kara finally reached Lena, standing toe to toe as her eyes continued to burn. You’re a phantom, Lena realized. Praying on my fears… What had J’onn said? One’s deepest dread.

Like fearing that your loved ones were lost.

And that it was your fault.

Kelly said to focus on what’s real, Lena thought to herself. Things I can see, touch, hear… Lena’s mind scraped at the motor oil scent around her, wandering to the Tower itself, to the cool air and martian steel that surrounded her as Kara sneered back.

But Lena shrugged it off as she continued to stare at the angry super, looking into the still-burning eyes. Lena knew what was most real. 

“I love you,” Lena said, raising her hand to doppelganger, caressing along her jawline. “I love you, and I’m going to get you back.”

Kara’s eyes dimmed, and the world flashed white.

-----------

Lena gasped as her eyes opened, finding herself back in the control room. Shifting in her seat, her eyes darted around the room, feeling a flood of relief as she saw the others do the same. “This is real,” J’onn shouted to the room. “You are free of the phantom's powers!” Lena wanted to cry in relief.

“Well that sucked,” Nia said, a shaky smile thrown in Lena’s direction. “What did you see?”

Lena turned back to her controls. It’s time to bring Kara home. “A kelpie,” she said quietly, her mind drifting to the final preparation needed for the sun bomb. “I’m afraid of drowning.”

[jumpingjoltiks]

Happy New Year I hope you had a great day and I have a request, you can refuse it if you want, I couldn't help but think what would happen if the reader had an accident or was attacked by someone obsessed with sugar daddy!submas or another situation, one day reader show up with some bandages all over their body?

Have nice day!

A very late happy new year and a happy early valentines day to you too! <3

TWs for sugar relationships, medical settings and practices, car crashes, and an attempted assault.

You’ve had an accident.

You wake up a little dizzy and weirdly numb. Wherever you are isn’t a very comfortable place to be laying down. The lights above you are a little much to be looking into, and you have to blink a few times before you adjust to it. The smell of bleach and other chemical cleaning products stings your nose. Your back can feel the frame of the bed through the thin mattress. A heavy cast is over one of your legs, which is elevated and hanging from a sling above you. Everything is a sterile white.

You look around and try to get your bearings. A hospital room. How did you end up there?

The last thing you remember was dodging out of the way of a bicycle as it came around the corner toward you.

You’d stumbled into the street.

A loud, blaring honk.

You’re lucky to be alive, you think.

The fabric of the bed is soft against your fingers as you stretch them, trying to determine how much range of motion you have. You lift your arm and reach for a remote that has a single button on it labeled “nurse”. Your chest hurts like hell when you do, but you manage to grab it and press down.

A very worried-looking woman rushes into the room almost immediately, her pink hair spilling over her shoulders – a Nurse Joy. She fusses over you for a moment before settling down again.

She explains that you were rushed to the hospital after being hit by a car. You looked a lot worse than you were, but you had a complex fracture in one of your legs, two broken ribs, and a mild concussion.

You’d been delirious with pain when the paramedics wheeled you in, and they’d had to administer sedatives in order to set the bones and start repairing the damage. You’ve been asleep all night.

She assures you you’ll make a full recovery, but that they’ll be keeping you for a day or two more to keep an eye on you.

You don’t have any emergency contacts formally listed, but someone among the staff has recognized you as the Subway Bosses’ partner. Nurse Joy asks if you’d like them to be contacted. You give assent, and consider putting them down as your contacts, but thinking too much makes your brain feel fuzzy – like the conclusions you want to draw are just out of reach.

Ingo and Emmet are there within fifteen minutes.

While you’ve been getting patched up by the doctors, they’ve been beside themselves with worry.

You were scheduled to have a call with them the evening before. You never let the phone ring more than once or twice, so when you didn’t pick up after several attempted calls and a half dozen texts, they decided to swing by your apartment… just to make sure you were okay. Of course, you weren’t there.

They spent the night wandering town, looking for you in every spot they could imagine. They contacted everyone they could think of to see if anyone had seen or heard from you.

So now Ingo and Emmet perch, relieved, at your bed-side, thankful that they didn’t have to file any reports with the police. Each holds one of your hands as they go over everything that’s happened with you.

Emmet assures you that they’ll take care of everything – the bills, the paperwork, whatever you need. All you have to do is rest and get better.

Ingo’s thumb gently brushes over the back of your hand. He’s unusually quiet, but as he looks at you with misty, silver eyes, you understand. There is so much he wants to say, but he can’t. At least, not right now.

They leave late that evening, and only when insistently ushered out by a very bossy chansey, with many promises to visit you again tomorrow.

A pair of large bouquets are brought in first thing in the morning, one black and one white, and are placed on the two bedside tables at either side of your head.

They’re delivered with a new cell phone (you notice appreciatively that it's the newest model), as yours was shattered in the accident. Ingo and Emmet’s numbers are already put in. They’ve each sent you a handful of texts, assuring you that they’d be visiting in the evening and updating you on the early morning events in Gear Station. Emmet has sent you a selfie of himself, Ingo, archeops, and haxorus that you immediately set as your background.

You rest easy the remainder of the day, knowing that Ingo and Emmet will be back again to see you when work ends, and that they’ll be escorting you home. Everything will be okay.

Somewhere, in another universe…

It’s a big night for you and the twins – you’ve been invited a charity gala.

You slip on the sparkling black outfit that Ingo bought for you the last time you went out together. You admire yourself in the mirror; turning this way and that, smiling as the shimmering garment catches the light like a thousand stars.

When you exit the room, both of the twins’s gazes fall to your figure.

Ingo is locked in place, staring, his mouth slightly open. What a vision you are.

Emmet smiles, but narrows his eyes. Next time you go clothes shopping, he’ll make sure you’re on his arm instead of Ingo’s. As nice as you look, you’d look even nicer in white.

---

The paparazzi are taking photos of you when it happens.

You haven’t even entered yet. You’re standing between Ingo and Emmet – each of them with an arm around you. You smile warmly to the crowd, waving as you pass.

Time slows to a crawl. A figure shoves their way to the front.

Someone jumps from the crowd and rushes toward you. Gasps and shouts ring out as they lunge toward you, a huge hand reaching directly for your neck.

A pair of security guards are on them immediately. The attacker is on the ground and pinned before they ever reach you.

Emmet has pulled you behind him, putting himself between you and the attacker, with Ingo covering your back. Both of them have a hand on the pokeballs at their waist. You’re shaken nonetheless, and who wouldn’t be? You’re all ushered quickly inside.

The incident was only a few seconds long, but it felt so much longer. Your heart pounds in your throat as you cling to Emmet’s sleeve and Ingo wraps his arm steadily around your waist. They’re silent as you three walk into the foyer, two stone pillars keeping you together.

You’re quickly directed to a private side room. Ingo holds you while Emmet has some very firm words with the organizer at the door.

After a bit, you pull yourself together. You assure them you’re okay, but that you’d like to go home. Ingo and Emmet nod in agreement. The night is completely ruined for all three of you.

The organizer has already prepared a small handful of security guards to escort you to the back entrance. You’re back in your limo within a half hour of arriving, never having even seen the inside of the gala. You sit comfortably snuggled between Ingo and Emmet; their arms are wrapped around you, trying to bring some sense of comfort and safety back to the world.

You spend the night at their place – none of you want to be apart from each other right now. Ingo puts a movie on and Emmet pulls out a huge, fluffy blanket that he wraps around all three of you as you settle onto the couch.

It’s the middle of the night when you feel yourself coming out of a doze. Your head is on Ingo’s shoulder. Someone’s hand is soothingly rubbing your back. The brothers are speaking softly to each other, as though trying not to wake you. Something about hiring personal security guards…

Whatever it is, you can’t find it in you to worry right now.

With someone you care for on each side of you, you feel safer than you ever have.

[morgan-va]

Chapter 25: Cabin Fever (Part 2)

Masterlist

Pain.

Agony tears through your body, sharp claws rending into flesh as you're flung backward. The impact shatters the solid wood railing behind you, sending you tumbling through shards of glass and splinters. Your body scrapes across the debris-littered floor, each movement igniting a fresh wave of torment.

Blood drips from the gashes in your skin, pooling beneath you as you struggle to rise. A sharp metallic taste floods your mouth as blood seeps from within.

You look up, and the sight chills you to the bone. A creature looms above, its sharp, jagged wings flapping as it hovers in place. Its face and torso are indistinct—a swirling mass of shadows, corrupted and unrecognizable, as though reality itself is rejecting its form.

It speaks. Words emerge, warped and fragmented, lost in the distortion of its very existence. You can’t understand. The sound digs into your head like claws, compounding the unbearable pain.

You look down at your trembling hands. They’re slick with blood, the injuries sting, but...

Hands?

Human hands.

What…?

Your vision blurs, the edges collapsing into darkness as the weight of pain and confusion drags you under, until nothing remains.

A faint notification flickers into existence within the void:

A-S Backup files repaired. Rebooting.

Your eyes flicker open. The cold air bites at your face as you realize you’re standing outside in the snow, your body slightly hunched. Night has fallen, the world around you quiet and still. A dull ache lingers in your head, but it’s quickly drowned out by a spike of panic.

Your memory jolts back to the last thing you remember: the elevator, the strange room, the computer…

You spin around, heart racing, your eyes locking onto the shed you’d entered earlier. Without a second thought, you sprint to it and fling the door open.

Inside…

Pool inflatables?

Your stomach drops as you take in the sight of the shed filled to the brim with colorful, half-deflated flamingos, unicorns, and donuts. No sign of a keypad, a hatch, or anything remotely resembling the elevator you’d descended into.

“What… the hell?” you mutter, your voice trembling. You step back, glancing around as if someone might be watching, waiting to spring the punchline of some cruel joke.

Did you imagine all of that?

You look up at the sky, searching for answers in the faint glow of the moon and the neighboring planet casting soft, eerie light over the snow-covered camp.

Oh no.

A cold sweat breaks out as a new thought pierces through the haze: How long have I been out?

The realization sinks in like a stone in your gut. V is gonna KILL me.

Panic propels you forward as you sprint toward the main camp building. You burst through the door, breathless and desperate to explain yourself before V can find you and deliver the brutal end you’re certain she’s planning.

But inside, there’s… no one.

The bunk beds are empty, the bags left scattered where the others had set them down earlier. The building feels unnervingly still, the creaking of its old wooden frame amplified by the silence.

“Where is everybody?” you whisper, your voice echoing slightly in the emptiness.

Your unease grows, twisting into a gnawing anxiety. If the others are gone, where did they go? More importantly, how long has it been since you blacked out?

You step back outside into the cold, the snow crunching under your feet as your breath clouds in the icy air. Your mind spins with excuses, each one flimsier than the last. None seem strong enough to stop V from ripping you apart if she finds out you’ve been missing.

And then you see it—a faint glow in the distance, deep in the forest.

Is that… a flashlight?

It flickers faintly through the trees, the beam cutting through the darkness like a beacon. With no other leads and no idea where everyone has gone, you steel yourself and start toward the light. The snow crunches louder with each step, the woods growing darker and more oppressive the farther you go.

The forest feels alive in the worst way. Shadows stretch and shift as you move, and the faint hum of the light ahead only deepens your unease.

What the hell is going on?

Your heart pounds as you weave through the dark forest, the faint crunch of snow underfoot your only companion. Eyes locked on the distant glow, you push through the underbrush with determined focus.

Then—a loud snap!

You whip around, heart leaping into your throat. The sound of a branch breaking echoes unnaturally in the silence. You scan the trees frantically, but there’s nothing there. Just snow, trees, and an oppressive, still darkness.

You take a deep breath, trying to calm your racing heart. “It’s nothing,” you whisper to yourself. “Just my imagination.”

Turning back toward the light—your stomach drops.

It’s gone.

Panic courses through you as you scramble forward, desperately trying to remember the direction it had been coming from. Whoever it was can’t have gotten far. You pick up the pace, breaking into a run, snow spraying around you as you crash through low-hanging branches and uneven terrain. The forest grows thicker, the shadows more suffocating, but you don’t stop.

Finally, you burst through into a clearing, your breaths coming in frantic gasps.

Ahead of you stands a cabin.

It’s weathered and old, its wooden walls crumbling from years of snow and neglect. The faintest glow seeps through the cracks in the shutters—someone’s inside.

You take a step closer, boots crunching in the snow, your nerves a raw bundle of fear and hope. If whoever had the light came this way, they must’ve gone inside.

You swallow hard and approach the cabin, each step heavier than the last. The faint light flickers again, barely visible through the shutters.

What if they’re not friendly? What if it’s not even someone from camp?

But the thought of going back through the dark woods alone is even worse.

You reach the door, hesitating for just a moment before raising your hand to knock.

The world seems to slow as the horrifying noises reach your sensors—wet, squelching sounds mixed with heavy panting. You freeze, your breath catching in your throat.

Something’s wrong.

Taking a cautious step back from the door, you glance toward the woods, heart hammering. Maybe this was a mistake. Maybe—

A sudden gust of wind howls through the clearing, slamming the cabin door open with a creak and a bang. Revealing a drone kneeling in the darkness.

Uzi...

It’s her, unmistakably. But as your eyes adjust to the dim, flickering light inside the cabin, you realize something is terribly wrong.

She’s kneeling on the floor, hunched over the twisted, mangled remains of two drones. Their dismembered bodies are strewn around her, wires and servos jutting out at grotesque angles. Her hands are coated in black, viscous oil, and her mouth—her mouth is full of it, the sickening sound of her chewing turning your stomach.

Behind her, fleshy, bat-like wings stretch and twitch unnaturally, dripping with a sheen of black fluid. Her tail writhes, slithering like a serpent as it snakes across the floor.

You stare, paralyzed, as she grunts and coughs, oil spewing from her lips in a horrid spray. Her optics glitch wildly, flickering between their usual purple hue and a symbol—that symbol.

The one from your nightmares, the one that Doll used, and now Uzi..

Your head throbs violently, a flash of searing pain splitting your thoughts. You see claws rending your skin, shadowy wings, blood pooling beneath you as you struggle to stand.

You wince, clutching your head with a stifled groan.

It’s a mistake.

Uzi’s head jerks up at the sound, her glitching visor locking onto you with a sharp click. Her eyes flash, now alight with a glowing purple X, like a disassembly drone on the hunt.

Her lips curl into a smile, though the edges of it twitch and spasm.

“U-Uzi…” you stammer, taking a shaky step back.

She rises to her feet, her giggle soft at first, but quickly growing louder, more unhinged. The oil on her hands drips to the floor as she tilts her head, her jagged teeth bared.

“Uzi, stop,” you plead, your voice cracking. “It’s me. Don’t you remember me? Please, just… just stop and think!”

Her laughter echoes through the small clearing, harsh and hollow.

She steps forward, one slow, deliberate step at a time, her eyes blazing brighter with every move. The air grows cold, her monstrous wings unfurling to their full, terrifying span as she looms over you.

Your heart pounds in your chest as you back away, feet slipping in the snow. “Uzi, listen to me! You’re not like this! This isn’t you!”

But the giggling doesn’t stop. It grows louder, warped, and distorted, until it drowns out your voice completely.

And then she lunges.

The world narrows to instinct as Uzi lunges, claws outstretched. You throw yourself to the side just in time, the snow spraying as her monstrous form barrels past and tumbles into a nearby drift.

There’s no time to think. No time to process.

You run.

Branches whip at your face and arms as you sprint into the woods, the bitter cold searing your sensors. Uzi’s laughter echoes around you, a cruel, warped melody in the darkness.

And then you hear it—the wings.

The heavy, rhythmic flapping grows louder, closer, sending a chill down your spine. You look up too late.

Pain explodes through your shoulders as her claws rake into your plating, lifting you off the ground with terrifying strength. You scream as she swings you like a ragdoll, flinging you through the air.

The impact is brutal. Your back slams against a tree trunk, and you bounce off, hitting the frozen ground with a sickening thud. Groaning, you try to push yourself up, but your limbs feel like lead.

You glance upward, your vision blurry.

Uzi is there, hanging upside down from a branch like a monstrous bat, her glowing X-shaped optics piercing through the night. 

“Uzi, no…” you choke out, desperation lacing your voice. “Please, it’s me! You don’t have to do this! Stop!”

She doesn’t respond.

Her head tilts unnaturally as she stares at you like a predator stalking its prey, her teeth bared in a savage grin. And then she pounces.

Her weight slams into you, driving you back into the ground as her claws pin you in place. You struggle, but it’s no use—her strength far surpasses yours.

Oil drips from her jagged teeth onto your face, her breath hot and ragged. Her optics glitch again, the symbol burning bright as she growls, low and guttural.

Your heart pounds as memories flood your mind.

The mansion. The shadowy beast.

You’re back there, surrounded by splinters and glass, the air thick with blood and fear. The creature looms before you, a distorted void your mind refuses to define.

Your hands move on instinct, grabbing something at your side: a bottle of paint. Without hesitation, you hurl it at the beast’s face, the bright splash of color momentarily blinding it.

The memory flickers out as quickly as it came.

You blink, snapping back to the present. Uzi’s claws dig deeper into your shoulders, her distorted growls ringing in your ears.

No time to think.

Your hand fumbles at your toolbelt, finding something round and familiar. A bottle of paint.

You fling it into Uzi’s face with all your might.

The bottle slams into her face, breaking open and splattering her visor with vivid streaks of yellow. She screeches in frustration, her claws loosening as she thrashes and tries to clear the paint.

It’s absurdly effective, maybe your manic hallucinations are onto something.

You don’t wait to see what happens next. Scrambling to your feet, pain lancing through your frame, you stumble back into the woods.

There’s no time to process the agony coursing through you. No time to question the flashes of memory. You have to find the others. Before it’s too late.

The sharp, biting cold does nothing to dull the fire of pain coursing through your body. Your legs protest with every step, your joints screaming for mercy, but you push on, driven by sheer survival instinct. The sound of your own ragged breathing is deafening in your ears, but you don’t dare slow down.

Not until the forest grows eerily quiet.

You stumble to a stop, the snow crunching beneath your feet.

The wind whispers through the trees, the branches creak and groan with the weight of ice, but there’s no laughter. No wings. No Uzi.

It’s over. At least for now.

You sink to the ground, collapsing against the base of a tree. Your body sags with exhaustion, and you clutch your head in your hands as everything comes crashing down at once.

Tears prick at the corners of your optics.

What is happening?

The questions swirl like a storm in your mind, relentless and unyielding.

Is this all real, or are you losing your mind?

Why do you remember things you shouldn’t—things that aren’t yours?

What was that underground room, with its computers and the strange program? Did you imagine it?

And Uzi…

The image flashes in your mind, vivid and raw. Her monstrous wings, her glitching visor, her cruel laughter. The way she tore into those drones like they were nothing but food.

You shudder, sobs rising in your throat as you recall the sound of her chewing, the way oil dripped from her jagged teeth. Thoughts flashing between the sight of her and that memory of the monster in the mansion.

That wasn’t Uzi. It couldn’t be Uzi. She’s your friend, the first person to be your friend in this frozen wasteland. Your mind can’t make any sense of it.

Your hands shake as you dig them into the snow, trying to ground yourself. But nothing feels real anymore.

Everything is slipping away, unraveling like threads of a frayed tapestry.

Your breathing quickens, panic creeping in.

You don’t know what to do.

Nothing makes sense anymore.

Pain and terror grip your entire being, your chest heaving as you struggle to process everything. Alone in the frozen woods, you feel a crushing weight pressing down on you. Is this it? Is this what you’re doomed to?

You can’t handle this.

Your thoughts spiral out of control, a relentless storm of self-loathing and despair. Why is this happening? Why does your mind feel like it’s fracturing? Nothing is right anymore. Nothing makes sense.

But your breakdown is interrupted by a distant scream—a loud, agonized NOOOOOOO.

Your head snaps up.

Someone else.

Your gut twists as you realize what it means. You failed. You failed to find them. And now Uzi got to them first.

A fresh wave of guilt crashes over you, suffocating and relentless, but there’s no time to wallow in it.

A sudden yelp jerks you back to reality as a drone nearly trips over you, both of you recoiling in terror. Your optics lock.

"Lizzy?" you breathe, recognizing her instantly.

Her expression flickers between panic and relief. "Thank Robo-God." She grabs you by the shoulders, shaking you slightly. "Finally, the technician! You can, like, fix this, right? That’s your whole thing."

You hesitate, rising slowly to your feet as the pain in your body flares. "I... I don’t know how to fix this," you admit, voice weak.

Lizzy rolls her eyes, throwing her arms up in exasperation. "Of course you don’t."

Before you can respond, she gasps, pointing into the distance. "Oh, Final Girl!"

You turn to follow her gaze, spotting a lone drone standing in the clearing. She’s waving, her movements slow and deliberate.

Hope sparks in your chest, fragile and fleeting.

But then the drone freezes.

Her visor flickers.

A red "Fatal Error" warning flashes across her face as her body contorts unnaturally, a pair of clawed hands gripping at her head and torso.

From behind her, you hear it: giggling.

The oil drains from your face as you watch the drone’s head get violently wrenched from her body, oil spraying across the snow.

Behind her stands Uzi, wings spread wide, teeth bared in a grotesque grin.

Lizzy stares, her jaw slack. "Umm... clashing?" she says, her voice attempting to hold her usual tone but failing.

You can only watch in horror as a glowing purple symbol manifests around Lizzy’s neck, lifting her off the ground.

"No!" you cry out, stumbling backward.

Lizzy’s form dangles helplessly in the air, her face twisted in terror, as Uzi’s giggling grows louder.

You snap your head toward Uzi just in time to see her lunging at you, claws extended, her monstrous wings propelling her forward.

You flinch, instinctively throwing your arms up in a futile attempt to shield yourself.

But instead of being torn apart, you hear a deafening slam.

Your eyes snap open.

V stands over you, her form blocking Uzi’s claws. One of her wings deflects Uzi’s strike with a screech of metal against metal.V swings a sword at her, sending the monstrous drone hurtling back through the trees with a spray of oil.

V doesn’t even look at you at first, her gaze locked on Uzi.

“Killing her, not saving you.” she says flatly, jerking her head toward Lizzy, who collapses unceremoniously onto the snow as Uzi's control over her fades. V’s crimson optics then flick to you, narrowing dangerously. 

You barely have time to process this before she pokes your chest with her sharp sword, leaning in closer. “And then I’m gonna kill you,” she adds, her tone teetering between anger and exasperation.

With that, she strides toward the trees where Uzi had crashed, two shimmering blades dragging in the snow.

You stagger to your feet, every movement a new flash of pain.

V’s voice drifts back to you, colder than the snow beneath your feet as she approaches the wounded Uzi. “New body, same horrors, huh, Cyn?”

That name.

Your vision flickers violently, and a splitting pain cuts through your head like static. Flashes of incomprehensible images assault your mind, and you stumble, clutching your skull.

When you recover, you hear a voice—familiar, pleading.

“V, wait!” Uzi cries, her tone far softer than the monstrous giggling from before. You look up to see her crawling out from the wreckage of trees, her voice cracks with desperation. “I don’t know who that is! Please, just—can I talk to N?!”

V doesn’t stop, bringing her weapons to the ready as she stalks closer.

“No!” you shout, rushing forward despite the ache in your limbs. You grab her shoulder, your voice shaking as you plead. “Don’t kill her! V, please, she’s—she’s still Uzi! She doesn’t know what’s happening— We can figure out what’s going on!”

V snarls, her arm shoving you off with enough force to send you stumbling back. “Stay out of my way, moron!” she snaps, her tone sharp and unrelenting. “This is for your own safety. She’s not Uzi anymore.”

You open your mouth to argue again, but the sound of Uzi’s laughter interrupts you both.

The giggling starts soft, then crescendos into something manic and gleeful.

Both of you turn just in time to see Uzi’s tail lash out from the shadows, its grotesque, mouth-like appendage snapping shut around V’s arm.

There’s a sickening crunch as her arm is ripped clean off.

“Damn it!” V growls, before the tail swings, sending her skidding across the clearing before she slams into a tree.

Before you can react, Uzi’s wing sweeps toward you, the jagged edges catching your frame and flinging you backward into the snow.

You groan, the world spinning, just in time to see Uzi launch herself at V, pinning her against the tree with an inhuman snarl.

V glares at Uzi, her remaining arm raising as she readies her missile launcher. But Uzi strikes first, using her powers to pick up V’s abandoned blade, spinning it through the air faster than you can track.

You barely have time to scream a warning.

The blade buries itself in V’s head with a sickening thunk.

Her optics flicker briefly as her body spasms, and her arm fires wildly.

A missile streaks into the air, arcing in a wide loop before crashing down—

Right next to Lizzy.

“Ugh. Seriously?” Lizzy groans, just before the missile detonates. The explosion launches her into the air, her voice fading into the distance as she disappears over the treetops with a frustrated scream.

The clearing goes silent, save for the faint whine of static in your ears and the distant creak of branches.

You look back toward V and Uzi, your heart pounding as dread sinks in.

V doesn’t even have time to react as Uzi flings her across the clearing like a ragdoll, her body slamming into the snow and skidding to a halt.

Before V can attempt to get back up, Uzi leaps after her, snatching the blade that had fallen to the ground.

With a horrifying screech, she drives it through V’s remaining hand, pinning her to the frozen earth.

V snarls, struggling against the blade, but Uzi’s monstrous form looms over her. She leans in, her teeth bared, black oil dripping from her mouth.

Your eyes dart toward V’s tail, the syringe-tipped end twitching as it positions itself to strike at Uzi’s exposed side.

But Uzi’s tail moves faster.

It whips around, lashing out and snatching V’s syringe in its jagged maw.

There’s a loud snap as the tip is severed. Uzi’s tail drops the glowing syringe into her hand, and she glares down at V with a glitched grin, the needle gleaming in the pale light.

You try to move, to shout, to do anything. But your body feels like lead, your injuries anchoring you in place.

"No," you whisper, voice trembling. Then louder: "No, Uzi! Stop!"

You swear she hesitates, just for a moment, her eyes glancing over at you. But they are quickly replaced by that horrific glowing X as she turns back to V.

Crushing despair washes over you as you watch her raise the syringe, aiming it directly at V’s chest.

This is it.

A blur drops from the sky, and before you can even register what’s happening, Uzi is lifted clean off the ground. “Oops! Easy there, buddy!”

You blink, your optics adjusting as the figure comes into focus. It’s N!

He’s holding Uzi up by the back of her hoodie like a misbehaving puppy, his usual bright, cheerful smile plastered across his face.

“Whoa, Uzi!” N says, tilting his head. “What’s with the new look? Kinda cool but also super scary. Maybe tone it down, huh?”

Uzi growls, her claws swiping at him furiously, but he doesn’t seem phased.

Then, with an almost casual motion, she plunges the syringe straight into his hand.

You flinch, expecting him to cry out in pain, but instead, his reaction is—

“Haha, ow!” N laughs, shaking his hand as if he’d just been pricked by a needle. “That’s sharp!”

You stare in disbelief.

Before you can process it, N spins on his heel and hurls Uzi straight up into the sky.

Her form disappears into the clouds, the clearing falls silent once more. For a moment, it feels like the world itself is holding its breath.

Then, N nonchalantly pulls the glowing syringe out of his hand, examining it curiously before popping the wound into his mouth. You groan quietly, the sight triggering an unpleasant flash of memory. No amount of effort had ever been enough to purge the thought of “healing spit” from your mind.

The tension in the air begins to fade, though your vision starts to blur at the edges. Your systems are frayed, your motors weak.

You vaguely register N’s voice as he dusts off his hands. “I told you not to antagonize her! Look what happened!”

“Always taking her side,” V snaps from the ground, sitting cross legged while reattaching her severed arm.

There’s a pause. “Oh, right! Uzi!” N suddenly takes off in a blur, a small crater left in the snow where he’d been standing. “Be right back!” he calls over his shoulder, already vanishing into the trees.

You collapse onto your back, your motors finally giving out. The cold snow presses against your frame, a strange mix of soothing and numbing.

Defeated, you let the falling snowflakes land on your face, watching the cloudy sky churn above.

Your mind drifts in and out of focus. How did it come to this? Nothing makes sense anymore.

The crunch of snow brings you back to the present. You glance up, groaning as you see V looming over you, her expression teetering between frustration and worry.

“You’re a mess,” she mutters, crossing her arms. “Pathetic, really.”

You groan, trying to lift a hand in protest. “I’ll be fine—just give me a minute.”

V doesn’t seem convinced. Instead, she leans down, and before you can say another word, she grabs your shoulder.

“Oh no,” you gasp, your voice rising in panic. “V, don’t—please don’t—”

“I’m doing it again,” she says flatly, cutting you off.

“NO! Seriously, I’m fine! Really, I’m—”

She spits directly onto your wounds.

You groan loudly, your head hitting the snow with a soft thud. Warmth spreads across your injuries, the damage rapidly stitching itself back together. It’s unpleasantly slimy, and the faint sizzling sound only adds to the discomfort.

“Great. Thanks,” you mutter weakly, grimacing as you try not to think about it.

V straightens up, brushing the snow off her knees. “See? Fixed. You’d probably die without me, as per usual.”

Despite everything, her tone feels oddly smug, and you can’t help but glare at her as you pull yourself into a sitting position.

“Yeah, thanks, V,” you grumble. “Really appreciate the personal touch.”

V’s smug grin falters. Her optics narrow, and she leans closer, that earlier anger flashing back to life in an instant.

“Oh, you want a personal touch?” she hisses, her voice low and venomous. “I’ll show you a personal touch once I’m done tearing you to pieces!”

You flinch, startled, as she jabs a claw against your chest.

“What the hell were you thinking?” she growls, her voice rising. “I told you not to wander off! I told you to stay put! Do you even realize how worried I was? I thought Uzi killed you, you idiot! All night, I was out there, wondering if I’d find your mangled body in the snow!”

Her words hit harder than her claws ever could, her voice trembling with something you rarely hear from her: genuine, raw emotion.

You shrink under her glare, trying to form words, but nothing comes out.

V keeps going, pacing back and forth now, her gestures sharp and frantic. “And you just—what? Decide to play hero? Charge off into the woods without backup? How stupid can you possibly be? You don’t even know what you’re up against!”

Her words batter against your already fragile state. She seems ready to keep yelling, but her voice slows, the sharpness fading, as she notices the tears pooling in your optics.

Your frame trembles as the dam breaks, your voice cracking as you hold your face in your hands. “I—I’m sorry!” you sob, muffling your words against your palms. “I didn’t mean to— I don’t even know what’s happening anymore!”

V freezes, her wings twitching as she stares at you, unsure of what to say.

“I blacked out or something, I didn’t intend to wander off” you continue, your voice shaking. “I… I saw more of those memories. I didn’t mean to scare you. I just— I didn’t know what else to do, I woke up alone and...”

Your shoulders heave as the weight of the day finally crashes down on you.

For a long, tense moment, V doesn’t say anything. Then, with a heavy sigh, she kneels down in front of you, her sharp demeanor softening.

“Hey,” she says, her voice quieter now. “I didn’t mean to— I wasn’t trying to… Look, just… stop crying, okay? It’s not a good look on you.”

Her tone is awkward, almost hesitant, but her fingers rest gently on your arm, a surprising gesture of comfort.

Your voice cracks as you continue, still hiding your face. “I… I feel like I’m losing my mind, V. I don’t know what to think anymore. I just— I snapped out of whatever the hell happened to me, and I tried to find you, I really did, but then…”

You trail off, your voice trembling. The image of Uzi—that thing she became—flashes in your mind, sending a shiver down your frame.

“And then that whole thing with Uzi happened, and I just… I didn’t know what to do. I panicked, okay?” You choke on your words, your optics blurred with tears. “I’m sorry, V. The last thing I wanted was to worry you so much. I swear.”

V stays silent, her fingerss tightening slightly on your arm. When she speaks, her voice is softer, almost hesitant.

“Yeah, well… you did, dumbass,” she mutters, her usual venom dulled. “You’re lucky you’re not scrap right now. Uzi could’ve—” She cuts herself off, clenching her jaw.

You glance up at her through blurry optics, her expression caught somewhere between anger and something far more vulnerable. For a moment, she looks away, her wings twitching awkwardly.

“I—whatever,” she finally grumbles, her tone strained. “Just… don’t do it again, okay? You scared me.”

Her words are quiet, almost inaudible, but the sincerity behind them is unmistakable.

The ground trembles beneath you as a deafening slam erupts nearby, sending a plume of snow cascading into the air. Instinctively, V jumps to her feet, her wings flaring out and her twin blades extending in a flash. She positions herself between you and the source of the impact, her stance sharp and protective.

As the snow settles, the silhouette of a figure emerges from the cloud of frost. Your optics adjust, and to your astonishment, it’s N. He’s cradling Uzi in his arms, and… she looks normal again. No glitching visor, no monstrous wings or tail—just Uzi.

She clings to him tightly, burying her face in his chest, and N holds her with the same gentle care you’ve come to expect from him. Relief washes over you like a wave. V lowers her blades cautiously, though her posture remains tense.

You pull yourself upright with a groan, still sore from everything you’ve been through. A rustling sound from behind catches your attention, and you glance over to see Lizzy strolling toward you, looking remarkably fine given her earlier… aerial escapade.

She sidles up next to you, crossing her arms as she surveys the scene. “Ew,” she says bluntly, her tone dripping with disdain as she watches N and Uzi.

V whirls on her, pointing a blade. “Don’t patronize me!”

Lizzy arches a brow, unfazed. “What? I think it’s gross all by myself.” She smirks, gesturing vaguely toward N and Uzi. “God, you’re such a diva lately.” With that, she spins on her heel and strides off, humming to herself like she hadn’t just dodged death minutes earlier.

V’s scowl lingers as she watches Lizzy leave, but the sharpness in her expression softens slightly. She glances back at you, and for a fleeting moment through the obvious frustration, you catch something unspoken in her gaze—concern, maybe even gratitude—before she looks away, pretending to brush snow off her claws.

The next hour is a haze, the world feeling distant and dreamlike as V takes charge. Instructing N to help her round up the surviving campers so they can get out of this place. You attempt to offer your help, despite being incredibly sore, but V has other plans for you.

Without much room for argument, she scoops you up and takes to the sky, her grip firm but not rough. The icy wind stings against your battered frame as she flies you back to the school bus.

Landing with a sharp thud, she shoves the door open and deposits you inside. Her gaze burns into you,  she extends a claw just inches from your chest. “Sit here. Don’t move. Don’t breathe. If I come back and you’re not where I left you, I’ll kill you. And I mean it this time.”

The way her voice lowers on the last words leaves no room for doubt. You nod weakly, sliding into one of the benches as she closes the bus door behind her.

And then you’re alone.

The world outside the foggy windows seems… unreal, like it’s happening on a different plane of existence. The sounds of the forest barely register over the static in your mind. Everything feels heavy, distant, and wrong. You can’t even tell how much time is passing. Minutes? Hours?

Your thoughts spiral as you sit there, unmoving, trying to process everything that’s happened. Uzi’s transformation, seemingly blacking out, those memories that aren’t yours, nearly dying several times. It’s all too much. The more you try to make sense of it, the more tangled it all becomes, like trying to unravel a knot that only tightens the harder you pull.

You stare blankly at the floor of the bus, the muffled sound of wind whistling through cracks in the metal frame. Your processors keep replaying moments over and over—Uzi’s claws digging into your shoulders, V standing over you protectively, that strange symbol flashing in your vision.

The sound of the bus door sliding open startles you, snapping you out of the haze clouding your mind. A stream of exhausted, grumbling campers piles inside, their usual chatter reduced to tired murmurs as they take their seats. Even as the noise fills the bus, you still feel like you’re not entirely present—floating somewhere between consciousness and whatever is going on in your head.

That changes when V steps onto the bus. Without a word, she strides over to you, nudging you aside on the bench seat with just enough force to be firm but not rough. You scoot over instinctively, letting her sit next to you. She glances across the aisle, jerking her thumb at Lizzy.

“Sit there,” she orders flatly.

Lizzy groans in protest, rolling her eyes dramatically. “What am I, a toddler?” But one look at V’s face has her sighing and flopping into the seat across from you.

V looks back at you, and her sharp demeanor softens—just a little. “Thanks for not going anywhere,” she says, her tone quieter than usual. Her expression falters as her gaze lingers on you. You must look terrible, and the concern on her face is obvious.

“Sorry,” you mumble. “For worrying you so much.”

V huffs, reaching out to give you a light punch on the shoulder. It’s not hard enough to hurt, just enough to get your attention. “It’s fine, alright? Don’t do it again, though.”

Before you can say anything else, the teacher climbs into the seat in front of you, the bus door closes with a groan, and the vehicle lurches forward. You barely notice the movement, your thoughts drifting once again. That is, until the teacher swivels in his seat to hold up his clipboard, his brow furrowed as he addresses V.

“Uh, there seem to be a few students missing,” he says, although he sounds incredibly uninterested.

V leans forward, her claws digging into the seat in front of her as she glares at him. “Sometimes I get hungry, idiot.”

The teacher blinks at her, shrugs, and turns back to the road. “Alright, no need for name-calling. Just a simple question.”

The ease with which he brushes off the missing students would normally leave you horrified, but right now, you’re too mentally drained to process it. Your head throbs as the bus bounces along the snowy terrain, your focus darting between fragmented thoughts and the numb exhaustion washing over you.

V can’t ignore this, her arm moves across the back of the seat, and before you know it, her fingers are lightly gripping your shoulder, pulling you closer.

You glance up at her, startled. She meets your gaze with a pointed look before rolling her eyes. “You’re fried,” she mutters. “Lean on my shoulder and sleep. You need it.”

You start to protest, shaking your head weakly. “I’m fine, really. I—”

“Don’t care,” she interrupts, baring her fangs in a mock threat. “You owe me, so just do it. I’m not asking.”

With a heavy sigh, you give in, letting your head fall against her shoulder. The warmth of her presence and the steady rhythm of her breathing make it surprisingly comfortable. You tell yourself there’s no way you’ll actually fall asleep—not after everything that’s happened.

But the cozy weight of her arm and the faint sense of security in her proximity tug at your already fragile resolve. The tension in your body fades, your thoughts grow fuzzy, and before you can stop it…

You’re out.

[sanctus-ingenium]

What happens when an engine “dies”?

Depends on how it dies!

If it reaches the end of its service life via accumulated wear and tear or just exceeding the number of cycles it can go through safely - it is retired and placed within a collection of old engines which can be taken apart and studied by enginesmiths who either replace it with a 1:1 replica, or create an improved version. Creating an impressive improved version usually elevates someone to master status, but it's not always needed. If it's just a single part it's most likely to just be replaced with an identical part. Old parts are treated with respect and reverence, and hearts in particular get preserved in a memorial hall which is among the holiest sites in the theocracy.

Old voice engines are preserved specifically to allow people to hear the voice of a beast and inhale their breath. Many higher-ranking members of the church choose to die while inhaling the breath of a holy beast, and will deliver their final prophecies in the heightened mental state this practice promotes.

If it fails more spectacularly, there are a couple of options. If pieces remain intact, it can be repaired with patched-in metal or replacement parts. If nothing remains intact (because it went out popcorn style) the engine is replaced by following the build guidelines in the parts manual produced for each component. These are highly valued top secret documents.

As for what happens to everything around it when it dies - again, depends. A heart engine failing mid-battle is a catastrophe and call for an immediate emergency evacuation because there's excited fuel that now isn't being pumped anywhere and a bunch of engines all experiencing fuel starvation at once. Best case scenario the beast stops moving, worst case is big explosion. But if it's something like a voice engine - we don't really need that to keep functioning. Shut off the fuel line and carry on. A muscle engine breaks - it's okay, there are so many of them that the system can deal with a few dead ones up to a certain extent.

The knight can sense and indicate any engines which are no longer functioning correctly and pass the info along to the enginesmiths in the heart who shut off the appropriate fuel line.

[husbandhannie]

home, home, home, home

pairing: woozi x reader

word count: 1.1k

warnings: some relationship insecurity, but this isn't exactly angst, one(1) barely present sexual reference (no details at all)

a/n: svt's home is actually really inspiring when you're in the mood

taglist: @leejungchans @junhui-recs @itsveronicaxxx

jihoon’s distracted, and he knows it. given soonyoung’s concerned gaze, he knows it too.

“we can pick this up later”, his friend offers, “we have time”.

“no, it’s okay”, jihoon responds, not sounding nearly as sincere as he should, “i said we’d do this”.

it’s true. as much as he rolls his eyes at soonyoung’s “tiger agenda”, he promised his friend a tiger-themed song for International Tiger Day, and jihoon is a man of his word. he can’t just stop for today, as much as he desperately wants to.

“we have more than a month”, soonyoung insists, “how about we continue tomorrow? after gym?”

jihoon sighs. he knows his mind is focused on something else today, knows that he can’t help his friend today. he bids soonyoung goodbye as he leaves his studio, and it’s a testament to how preoccupied he is that he doesn’t roll his eyes at soonyoung’s illicit smirk.

you. he’s got you on his mind.

and no, it’s not the way soonyoung thinks.

you haven’t texted jihoon in the last 12 hours, and he’s losing his mind trying to figure out why.

to most people, this might not be a big deal. after all, most of those hours were in the night — the period of the day in which people generally sleep. but you almost never sleep before 2 AM, and neither does he — and the two of you always text during the night. always.

so understandably, jihoon is a little freaked out about the lack of messages from you. his texts and calls to you have gone unanswered, and he’s hoping it’s not on purpose.

as he manoeuvres his car through traffic, he tries to think of the last time the two of you met. it was two — no, three — no, wait, four days ago. you had dropped by his studio for dinner, and mentioned feeling overwhelmed with your master’s thesis. he was working on a track, he remembers.

maybe he was distracted. maybe it dawned on you that he wasn’t available enough, that he wouldn’t be there for you when you needed him the most. maybe you decided to cut your losses and ditch him.

the logical part of his brain knows that that’s very improbable. the two of you talk, and you have always told him when he did something that bothered you. the other part of his brain, however, has been almost waiting for this to happen.

yes, you’re busy too, and yes, you dislike big flashy dates as much as he does, and yes, you prefer night-ins spent just talking — but maybe you realized something, maybe you decided that you deserve better.

the significance of your presence in his life has never hit jihoon so hard, and he’s hoping that he hasn’t fucked this up.

he doesn’t think he’s ever made the journey from your building’s parking lot to your floor so fast — he’s racing through the stairs to the second floor, and for once he doesn’t dwell on how your landlord should cut down your rent because the elevator is somehow always under repair. actually, he’s not thinking about anything but you — and how he feels like the ground under him might give out any second.

he’s felt this way before, back when his group was new to the industry. he remembers the uncertainty, remembers the feeling of dread. he didn’t think he’d ever feel it again, least of all in a romantic relationship. this is what happens when you find a home, he thinks.

he has to stop himself from pressing your doorbell the second he stops in front of your apartment. he manages to wait for about twelve seconds while he catches his breath, before giving in, lightly panting.

the door opens and you emerge in your blue pajamas, your eyes squinting at his figure. he’s woken you up.

“jihoon?”, you blink, a confused smile making its way to your face, “what are you — “, you stand up straight, and he knows you’ve noticed his sweaty forehead and quick breaths, “everything okay?”

“yeah, i, uh”, he stutters for a moment, because he hadn’t thought about what to actually say to you, “you weren’t picking up my calls”.

seriously? he does a mental face-palm. “you weren’t picking up my calls?”

“just came to check if everything is okay” there. that sounds more reasonable.

“oh?”, you move to let him in, closing the door behind you while you answer, “ah yeah! i had a couple of drinks last night with my team, and came home and passed out. left my phone outside, i think”.

oh. jihoon feels the knot in his chest loosen up. he hasn’t fucked his up. you’re still here, he hasn’t lost his home.

“sorry about that”, you continue when he doesn’t respond, “didn’t mean to worry you”.

“no, it’s okay”, he offers, smiling when he notices that you’re wearing your pajama shirt inside-out, “i wasn’t that worried”.

it’s a lie, but you don’t need to know.

“anyway, i’m just going to chill out today”, you say as you pull out your coffee cup, “maybe cook a little, read a book”, you turn to him with another cup in hand, his cup. “wanna have coffee before you go off for work? it’s soonyoung’s tiger song for today, right?”

“he ditched me today”, jihoon pretends to be annoyed, but he can’t help the smile that grows on his face when you laugh, “i can hang around here, if that’s okay”.

“ofcourse”, you smile, and jihoon has to hold back from pulling you into a hug. you do it for him though, wrapping your arms around his waist and sighing into his shoulder. “i missed you”.

jihoon holds back from telling you the truth about his work today. and about the tensed car ride here. and how he ran up the stairs of your defective building. and how he hopes you’ll never get tired of holding him like this.

he’ll tell you later, he knows. later, when it’s not too freaky to tell you what you mean to him, when he’s sure he can say it out loud in words that make sense. later, when he’s sure he’s your home, too.

for now, he just wounds his arms around you and pulls you even closer.

“i missed you too”.

[ddagent]

A D4, please - I really can't get over these adorable nerds finding love later in life but then not being allowed to live it.

YES! These two should have been able to just love each other. I hope you enjoy this! Fanfic Menu Challenge

Margo Madison was not impulsive by nature. She worked the problem, evaluated potential solutions, calculated the most suitable outcome. As Sergei Nikulov walked out of her office, out of her life, for what could be the very last time, the last thing Margo was thinking about was solutions, outcomes. She simply allowed herself a moment to grieve. Let tears overwhelm her; let herself scream and cry into a seat cushion to conceal that her heart had just split open, unable to be mended or repaired. She had tried not to entertain thoughts of a future with Sergei after his defection. A future where Aleida stopped questioning the engine designs and the NASA team found water on Mars and she and Sergei could get a drink in a hotel room without the KGB listening next door.

She gave herself a moment to grieve. Just a moment. Only then was she able to work the problem.

Sergei couldn't get on that plane. The moment he stepped foot on Soviet soil, he would be back in prison. He might not even survive – his lungs were in poor shape; the few weeks in Houston had not helped him gain any of the weight he'd lost while incarcerated, tortured. Margo wouldn't be surprised if they shot him in the head before he even got on the plane. No, Sergei could not be allowed to leave the States. Not even reach the airport, leave the building. JSC was her territory. She knew every corridor, every person. She could control everything in this building. The moment Sergei left, he was out of her control. Out of reach.

Reaching for the phone, Margo called the head of security for JSC. "Cooper, I need you to run an emergency lockdown drill in—" She checked her phone. It had been ninety seconds since he'd left. Three minutes to make it to the nearest elevator. She would have to run. "—Two minutes and thirty seconds. And hold all the elevators on my floor for two minutes."

"Yes ma'am."

Margo checked her watch, then threw herself out of her office door. Nuri made a move to question whether she was okay; Emma held her back. Margo didn't examine the knowing glances of her assistant; all she could think about was Sergei. She had bought two minutes to get to the bank of elevators. She just had to hold onto him for thirty seconds. Her heartbeat seemed to sync with the tick tick of her watch hand as she sprinted through the corridor towards the elevators. One of the KGB babysitters was violently stabbing the buttons. One minute fifty seven, fifty eight, fifty nine—

The elevator dinged. "Doctor Nikulov!" Sergei turned at the sound of her voice. "I just need thirty seconds of your time to go over some calculations." The KGB agent began to protest. She cut him off with a hand. "It will only take thirty seconds. I am more than happy to register a complaint with Director Catiche."

Margo knew that card was no longer one for a strong hand, but still she played it. She wore her feelings on her face – damp eyes, a quivering lip – in the hope that they would just give her thirty fucking seconds to talk to the man she loved. But they wouldn't. Fine. She only needed fifteen anyway. The two KGB agents stepped on board the elevator, one of them taking Sergei's arm. Ten. Margo dragged him away, dragged him outside the elevator. Five.

"Margo—"

"It's okay."

Just as the KGB agent was about to reach for him, pull him out of her grasp, the lockdown drill came into place. The lights dimmed red; the siren began to whine. The elevator doors drew shut with an audible thud, quicker than the KGB agent could register. Every elevator in JSC was now locked down – and would only work again with a manual override. There were grumbles from the engineers and astronaut candidates in the corridor as they moved into empty work spaces and offices, barricading doors and just waiting for the all clear.

Sergei merely stared at her. "Margo. What have you done?"

"I've bought us fifteen minutes." She closed the gap between them, now. Didn't put distance between them like she had in her office. Didn't hide behind platitudes and false hopes. "I have fifteen minutes to convince you to ask me to defect so I can keep you."

Sergei did not say anything. There would be time for him to argue, to debate. But right now he just held her face in his hands, rested his forehead against hers, and breathed in fresh, free air for the first time since 1992.

[fijielevator]

Fiji Elevator 7351 WILES ROAD, SUITE 204. CORAL SPRINGS, FL 33067 (888) 266-0042

[vykker]

Infrastructure you don’t see in MO that probably exists in Vykkers Labs 13:

- Freight elevators and internal tram systems, I doubt they just have the one loading bay, and with the ships’ comparatively horizontal floor plan there’s probably need for a system to move cargo from one side to the other with ease. These systems are likely similar to the trains we see in ground level factories, albeit smaller. Still strong and fast enough that workers get smashed all the time.

- Maintenance tunnels for electronics, ventilation, and pipes, and probably a pneumatic tube system as well because it would fit the aesthetic. And yeah they definitely use these tubes to transport fuzzles at horrifying speeds. And the recycling blades would have to dump their meat chunks somewhere. There’s probably a big tube that squeezes the refuse from the blades to the poop chute.

- CARD READERS. I’ve thought about this way too much. Essentially it doesn’t make sense for the biggest pharmaceutical company in Mudos to not have badges or another system to protect their research. Certain badges are valuable due to the accesses they grant and collecting accesses are a point of pride for some workers. Each employee has a badge, scientist or worker. Your accesses are indicated by symbols engraved on your badge. The more symbols you have, the more accesses, the more places you can go and things you can take without being questioned. So having a badge covered in symbols is a bragging right and shows that you are considered important. Furthermore, Vykkers are a pack of self serving backstabbers who will eagerly steal each others research, so it’s important for labs to keep their areas separate.

- A dedicated garage for repairing the trains, lifts, snoozers, everything else, with employees who know how to fix such things. Not a large staff but incredibly important. Interns with an aptitude for engineering may get assigned specialized training and wind up there, but there’s also a number of Mudokon scrubs whose strength and dexterity make them great mechanics. Could be one of the few situations on the ship where the two species are forced to cooperate, and without Vykker oversight as well. Vykkers think they’re above such “menial” labor and generally don’t go there. Plus they’re too frail.

- Cafeterias; nice ones for Vykkers, crappier ones for Interns and Scrubs. The Vykker ones have chefs and waitstaff. The Intern and Scrub ones just have hamster tube type things where you pull a lever and slop falls out. Largely maintained by Mudokons in both cases, but considering how Vykkers Labs has a Fine Foods Division, there could be some proud Vykker chefs in the Vykker cafeteria.

- Recreational facilities. For Vykkers it’s again probably nice and connected to the cafeteria. They have a gym that sees only moderate use, and meditation rooms they pretend to meditate in. For everyone else it’s like a hodge podge of random shit that was going to be thrown away that the Interns were able to save. Dilapidated bar games and crusty couches.

- Emergency response systems. Aside from the button we see get pushed in the bad ending to MO, used as an intruder alert, there are probably other systems in place for fires, chemical spills etc, with dedicated teams to contain incidents. And with the badge thing I mentioned, they probably have special Emergency Badges that can get them nearly anywhere.

- A guest wing. This is an entire area of the ship that is hard to access and is reserved for guests. It contains the auction house, the dissection theatres, guest suites, and the external docking bay for visiting air ships. The floor plan is largely devoid of stairs because Glukkons suck at those. The Vykkers are extremely selective in who they allow to work in this section. Performing well for guests is a major priority. Workers assigned to the guest wing tend to be the best behaved and least beat up looking. You won’t see any emancipated scrubs or interns with scrungly stitches here. Everything is designed to give the best possible impression of the labs down to each employee. There could even be a small amount of well behaved sligs to keep their Glukkons at ease. The Vykkers of course will provide tours of the rest of the facility to high class guests, but these are always coordinated in advance to ensure there’s no blood on the floors & the employees working look less suicidal.

- a safety inspectors office… because hahahahahhahahahahahhaha

- A MASSIVE freezer; a place wall to wall on frozen specimens, ironically nicknamed “the zoo” for its diversity of preserved critters. Bodies of all species in all shapes and sizes can be requested and thawed for experimentation and study. Old experiments of interest wind up here in case they are useful later.

- certain labs have entrances and exits equipped with caustic chemical cannons to disinfect employees; peels your dermis off the first few times but after a while you adapt. Or not

[reidhalstead]

VEILVIEW TOWER , Apt 02

Built somewhere in the late 1900s, Veilview boasts forty-eight apartments. It stands towering in one of Port Leiry's less favourable neighbourhoods and is supposedly updated once every five years. Ask a resident, they won't be able to recall the last time an inspector came by unless it was to collect on overdue rent. There's plenty of those. Overcrowded families find their way to Veilview, for its bare necessities and with being some of the cheapest rent in the area, it's always finding new renters. It is formidable for its two-bedroom spaces and most sought after open plan kitchen and living room (everyone knows, it's to save building another wall). It's crumbling by the day and the tenants find themselves paying for their own repairs when they can, because nobody on the emergency call line ever answers. No landlord can be reached and there's speculation about whoever owns Veilview these days and whether they're even still alive. Half the block has been without hot water, for at least two months and there have been more evictions in the last five years than there have been transmitted diseases travelling between apartments. (And, there's been a lot) The werewolf living on the tenth floor, who never considered the practicality of that has broken the only elevator to that floor, so it's an unspoken rule that nobody who doesn't live there, is to step foot up there (Not that you'd want to). All the unsuspecting, just talk about how it's terribly haunted and something ultimately tragic happened upstairs. Horror stories told to kids living it large in the corridors of Veilview because there's some creep who wanders outside at all hours of the day and nobody's sure if he even lives in the Tower. It's what started the open door policy that plenty of people reject for its utter stupidity.

ON THE FIRST FLOOR —

Apartment 02 is occupied by Reid Lawton, who's got a record for working the late shift, so the kids upstairs have been told to try to keep down their heavy-footed bullshit during the day, to allow him some rest. They don't know that he hardly does and his fake smile is simply to be painfully polite. The apartment is sparse; little furniture is to be found and the bare minimum of living expectation is found in each relevant room. The sofa is shabby and torn, the TV it's facing has four dead pixels — the kitchen is a wasted expense, considering he's only using the fridge for protein shakes. The most luxurious thing he owns is the blackout curtains that weigh heavy on every window of the apartment; never touched. As of a couple months ago, @anikabooker moved into the spare bedroom as a token of goodwill. The kids now talk nonsense about the pair of them, and one time a small child caught a glance of paint, and the woman's not heard the end of it since from the upstairs family. An artist, so cool. Yet, the apartment dwellers in 02 still don't know how to wash dishes, but at least there's liquor in the cupboards. And the music's always blasting.

[tagsecretsanta]

From @the-original-sineater

From @the-original-sineater to @mariashades

A Change of Plans

There were lots of things that Scott ignored: sleep, proper food, a certain amount of selfcare. But one thing he wouldn’t ignore was his eyesight. It was too critical to a pilot to even let the slightest thing affect it. Which is why, when his right eye started to ache on a business trip to Sydney, he asked his assistant in the Sydney office, Kirra, to find an ophthalmologist and get him an appointment. One that was upgraded to an emergency appointment when a black squiggly line crawled its way across his vision. Which was how he found himself sitting in a dim room, in an uncomfortable chair, waiting for his pupils to finish dilating. Scott was very good at compartmentalizing, between his family and IR, he had to be. But at this particular moment, he wished he had someone with him. The litany of things running through his head ranged from minor: vitreous tear, all the way up to major: retinal detachment. The only sign of his agitation was him tapping out his brothers names in Morse on the arm off the chair.

Dr. Caserta had a receding hairline and an air of calm that soothed Scott. Even with the necessary annoyance of shining a very bright light into his eyes, Scott had stopped tapping out Morse.

The doctor made some various noises, then sat down on the stool next to the small workstation. “You have a vitreous tear in your right eye Mr. Tracy. Everyone gets them, you’re on the young side for one, but you did the right thing by coming in and not waiting to see if it went away. I’ve had too many people do that, not take the care they needed to and lose vision in their eye.” Scott swallowed down his relief. “Good to know. What’s the treatment?” “Rest. Reading or listening to things is preferable over watching vids or holograms, slower eye movement. Or you can watch the waves. Easy, gentle things. What’s more important is what you can’t do, at least for the next several weeks. No major changes in altitude, no air travel, nothing that could increase the pressure on the tear. The human eye is quite resilient and can repair itself very well. You just need to let it do so.”

Scott blinked at the fuzzy form. “Several weeks? I was here on business.” He couldn’t stay here for weeks!

“I’m sorry, but you’ll just have to tell your boss you have to stay here. If you engage in air travel, you could tear the retina and by the time you landed, you will have lost your vision.” The form shifted. “I’ll be glad to write whatever you need for your employer, but you need to stay in Sydney. I want you to come back in two weeks and we’ll reevaluate then.”

“What about the holiday?” There was a small pile of presents waiting for transport home back at the penthouse.

“I work the holidays Mr. Tracy. People’s vision is too important not to. An ophthalmologist working the holidays is what allowed my mother to keep her sight with a retinal detachment. I’m just paying that forward.”

That brought Scott up short. Dr. Caserta was no less dedicated to his mission than Scott and his family were. It was just on a smaller scale but just as important and impactful. “I - thank you.” “Not a problem. Now, do you want me to write something for your boss?” “No, thank you. He’s pretty understanding about medical stuff.” Scott kept the grin on the inside. “That's good, you’re lucky. Now did you drive here?” “No, I took a cab.” “Excellent. Give the address of where you are staying to Cathy and she’ll call you a taxi. We’ll also give you one of the really ugly eye covers to protect your eyes from the sun on your way back.”

Scott had to chuckle at that. Dr. Caserta had just the right amount of no nonsense, leavened with humor, to take the edge off things.

Actually, Scott was glad of the ‘really ugly eye cover’. The summer sun was annoyingly bright most of the time. But with dilated eyes, it was the second circle of Hell. He was also glad of the private elevator that whisked him to the penthouse. He kept the cover on while he pulled all the drapes and set the lights to as low as possible. Once the penthouse had had a VI to help run it, but that had been before EOS and The Shower Incident, which had led to the AI being banned from all the penthouses. He also got a cold washcloth to lay over his eyes as he stretched out on the couch. He needed to call the island and let them know what was going on. But right this very moment, he just wanted to be.

He managed to sleep most of the afternoon away, which let his eyes get mostly back to normal. Not that falling asleep surprised him. They all had barely a passing acquaintance with having an actual circadian rhythm.

A quick time check showed that late afternoon for him was early evening for them. Hopefully, they were all safe at home. That thought stung, he wouldn’t, couldn’t be there to help, to protect them. He shoved that away for now. Right now, he had to tell them. “Tracy Island, Alan Tracy speaking.” God, he sounded so grown up. “Hey, Sprout.” “Scott! How’s Sydney? Did you see the museum? John said you should be able to see the Aurora tonight!” Scott laughed, he couldn’t help it. “Breathe Alan. Slow down and breathe.”

There was a sharp inhale through the speaker, followed by a slow exhale. “That’s better. Sydney is Sydney, no I haven’t made it to the museum, and I’ll go out on the roof tonight to try and see it.”

“Neat! Hey, how come no image?” He should have expected that, Alan was not slow on the uptake. “That’s what I need to talk about. Where is everyone?” “John’s upstairs. Virgil’s helping Grandma clean up the kitchen. Kayo is off kayoing. And Gordon is with Brains.”

“Does Kayo know you turned her name into a verb?” “She does now.” There was a yelp as Kayo’s voice came through the speaker. “We need to work on your situational awareness more, Alan.” “Geez! Give a guy a heart attack!” Scott laughed silently at the exchange. “Hi Kayo. Could you please get everyone on the line?” “What’s wrong?” Scott rolled his eyes. “Nothing major, I promise. Just - just please get everyone on the line?” “Scott?” Alan’s voice was very small. “I’m going to be fine, Sprout. I promise. Just get everyone on the line so I only have to explain once.” Scott scrubbed at his face. ‘Way to go dumbass. Scaring your little brother. GAH.’

It took less time than Scott thought for everyone to get onto the call. Even if John made noises about not having a visual link.

“Okay, Scott, spill. Also what’s with the no video?” Trust Virgil to get right to the point. “Right, no panicking. I have a vitreous tear in my right eye. The ophthalmologist said that as long as I behaved and didn’t do the things I shouldn’t, everything would be okay.”

There was a long moment of quiet. “Right, what are the things you shouldn’t do?” Gordon asked.

“Well, no holograms or vids for one thing. Too much eye movement.” Scott took a deep breath. “I’m also grounded for at least the next two weeks for sure. It might be more, but we won’t know until after my next appointment.” “What happens if you don’t stay grounded?” Grandma’s voice was soft.

“I risk losing the vision in that eye.” Saying it didn't make it any easier. “No flying, no major changes in altitude, nothing that could put pressure on the tear and make it worse.”

“How do you fix it?” Alan asked. “Rest and not putting pressure on the eye. Dr. Caserta seemed pretty sure that it would heal on its own.” Scott could have kicked himself. He hadn’t meant to say the doctor’s name, not with John on the call. “Huh. Why did you pick that doctor?”  John, of course. “I didn’t, Kirra did.” “Well, she got you the best in the city.  Biggest complaint I can find about him is patients saying they wished they’d listened to what he said.”

Scott felt oddly pleased by that. At least they couldn’t accuse him of not taking care of himself. “You’re at the penthouse?” Kayo this time. “Where else would I be?” “Just checking. I’ll prep Shadow and be there in about a half hour.” “Kayo, you don’t need -” “Yes, Scott, I do. You just extended your stay by two weeks if not more. I need to coordinate with the security team and bring in extra people. I’ll see you in 30.”

Scott just sighed. Alan was right, Kayo was going to kayo. “Scott, two weeks from today is after the holidays,” Virgil pointed out.

“Yeah, I know.” The holiday season was usually busy for IR. They tended to have their celebrations sometime in January after the pace of rescues slowed. “I’ll send my gifts back with Kayo.” “If you think we’re going to have the holiday without you, young man, you have another think coming!”

Scott expected that. “Depending on rescues Grandma.” “Speaking of which - we have a situation.” Scott hung his head, he knew better than to say that word. “Good luck guys. I love you.” He closed the call before he could ask to listen in. That wouldn’t do his blood pressure any good. Then he sat back on the couch and worried.

***

Kayo was her normally efficient self: increasing the protection detail, setting a new rota to include Scott’s check ups with Dr. Caserta and rearrangement of the schedule that happened once word got out that Scott was stuck in Sydney. Since Scott couldn’t go to the other offices, the other offices would come to him.

She also brought clothes and even more importantly; hugs from everyone.  Additionally, she kept his mind off of the rescue he couldn’t take part of. Until John called to say that it had gone well and everyone was home, safe and sound.

She stayed the night, chivved Scott into going out to enjoy some of  Sydney’s culinary offerings and managed to take his mind off of being grounded.

After breakfast he gave her a duffle full of the gifts he’d acquired. “Scott -” “No. We don’t know when I’m going to be back.” His grin was lopsided. “With some luck, I’ll be there in person. If not, I should be able to call in. Almost as good as being there.” She snorted. “You mean safe from having to eat Grandma’s cookies.” 

“I didn’t say that!” Scott tried to look innocent. “Yeah, right.” Kayo pulled him into a tight hug. “We’re just a call away. John or I can have everyone here in One in fifteen minutes.” He hugged back just as hard. “I know.” He pulled back a little. “You and John are the only ones I trust not to crash One.” “I promise, Gordon won’t fly her.” “I’ll hold you to that.”

They parted, Scott to do battle with paperwork and executives and Kayo; to whatever it was she had planned.

***

Things progressed with Scott trying very hard not to listen to the news and daily calls from his family.

At least until Gordon showed up at the penthouse one afternoon with a grin and a loaded hand truck.

“Hey bro!”

Scott found himself enfolded into a squid hug so hard it left him gasping.

“Hey yourself.” Once Scott managed to untangle himself. “Not that I’m not glad to see you, but what are you doing here?”

Gordon pulled the hand truck into the penthouse. “John said he’d use my hide as a throw rug if I didn’t get some down time. So, I had Virg drop me off here.” He gestured to the boxes. “And I've got prezzies!”

“Wait a minute.” Scott held up a hand. “One, John wouldn’t say that, two, why do you need down time?” “Weeeel, no he didn’t say those exact words, but it was implied that if he had to come down …” Gordon shrugged. “As for why - um, I might be a bit over my hours?”

Scott gave into the facepalm. “Might? How much is might?”

“Um - twelve hours.”

Scott’s gut sank. Him being grounded had put extra stress on his family.

“Hold the guilt train! Not your fault. Wildcatter prospectors doing illegal mining in a black smoker field.  They got trapped under a fallen smoker and it took forever to get them out.”

Scott still swallowed. Deep water rescues were Gordon’s speciality, but in some ways working under the ocean was more hazardous than working in space. Not that Scott would have been of any help but - yeah, but.

Gordon slugged Scott lightly on the shoulder. “I’m fine, SmotherOne. I’m just over my hours.” He picked one of the boxes up and handed it to Scott. “Com’n! Virg’s research said slow motions were good for helping your eyes. So let’s get this set up! We need to have it conditioned before they arrive tomorrow.” “Huh? Waitaminute! Who arrives? Condition what?”

Gordon picked up a box and headed into the living room. “The fish. Watching fish is soothing, so I got you an aquarium! Which needs to have the water conditioned before they go into it. Com’n Scooter, shift those starters! We’ve got work to do!”

By the next afternoon, Scott was the proud owner of a two meter long, 100 gallon aquarium. Along with a dozen neon tetras, a small school of golden barbs, a group of dainos (which he really liked since they were fast and blue), a dozen harlequin rasboras, four cory catfish, and one brilliant blue betta. Who’d already claimed one of the little caves in the reef system that Gordon had created and was defending it against anyone that came close.

The aquarium filled a blank space that Scott had never noticed in the layout of the penthouse. You could lay on the couch and just watch the fish swim about, which was really nice. “Who’s going to feed them?” Scott shook a line of food down the length of the tank. “I already set that up with the staff. When they come in clean every day, they’ll just add feeding and checking the tank.” Gordon held up the water tester. “Someone will need to come by once a month or so to check the water and the pump. But hey! Reason to come over and take a day off.”

“Gordon…” Scott turned, a rebuke sitting on his tongue. Guileless brown eyes batted at him. “You thought I meant you, Scooter? This isn’t your private domain. Any of us can come over for a down day. It would do the Space Case a world of good to get out more than just the Island.”

“That’s a really good point.” John could use some more time away from the Island.

“Good excuse to get Alan over here too. There’s a bunch of museums and stuff he wants to see.”

“That sounds great, Gordon.” Scott looked at the fish chasing the falling food. “This was a good idea.”

“I know, it was mine.”

Well, that couldn’t be allowed to stand. “Hey, Gords?” “Ye - murhf!” The towel that Scott had used to wipe up escaped water landed on Gordon’s face. 

Scott was actually sorry to see Gordon go the next day when Thunderbird Two roared up to collect the aquanaut to help with a sinking research vessel in the Ross Sea.

***

Scott was whistling as he left the elevator. The black squiggle through his vision was fading and he was going back to Dr. Caserta in two days, the meeting with NorAustrilia had gone really well, he was looking forward to crispy duck, spicy vegetables, white rice, a bottle of Yanjing beer for dinner, and an evening with Social Distortion (he liked the oldies, deal with it). What he hadn’t been expecting was the warm glow of holograms and a head outlined against them.

“John?” The holograms blinked out and Scott’s least earthbound brother stood up. “Hi there.” Scott’s heart started to thud in triple time. John never came down without prodding. He swallowed hard. “W- what happened?” John’s eyebrows knitted together for a moment. “NO! Everyone’s fine. I promise.” He came over and took hold of Scott’s shoulders. “I promise, everyone is okay.”

Scott closed his eyes for a moment and took deep breaths. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to startle you like that.” John said. “Gordon has been talking up the fish tank so much, I just wanted to see it in person.” Scott grabbed John’s biceps and gave a shake. “Don’t do that to me.” “I’m sorry.” “Forgiven.” Scott grinned. “I’m glad to see you in person for a change.”

John nodded. “It’s different.” He looped an arm around Scott’s shoulders and guided him to the couch and its view of the tank. “How are you feeling?”

Scott rolled his eyes. “Fine. Better than fine. I’ve actually been getting a solid eight hours a night and eating like a regular person.” John laughed as he sat down. “Good. I saw the to-go order you placed and doubled it. I haven’t had crispy duck in ages.” As thrilled as Scott was to see his space loving brother, there was a small issue that needed addressing. “What about Thunderbird Five?” he asked as he sat down. “I can do my job here nearly as well as I can here. It would be easier if EOS had access to the penthouse system -” “No, nope, nada, nien, non, nee, nej, nyeht, not happening.” Scott’s head shook on each word. “Scott, she did apologize.”

“I know how to say ‘no’ in some more languages if you need me to.”

It was John’s turn to roll his eyes. “She was just curious.” “I don’t care. We have a working relationship, beyond that, nothing. I won’t degauss her core and she doesn’t talk to me unless it’s an emergency. She tried to kill you and Alan.”

John just sighed, this was an old argument. “Fine. I can easily do my job here, I missed you, and I wanted to see the fish tank.”

That cinched it. If John thought he could do his job at the penthouse, then he could. As for missing Scott - he’d missed his space brother as well.

Dinner arrived and they spent the evening talking about everything and nothing. It was the most one on one time Scott had enjoyed with John in several years. He’d really missed John’s dry wit and impeccable timing. Scott went to bed more relaxed than he’d been in days.

He was glad for John’s presence on the trip to the ophthalmologist, even if he had to remain in the waiting room. In some ways he was more nervous than he was on the first visit. ‘Was the tear healing? Would he be able to fly again?’ Could he even go home? Those thoughts were chasing around in his brain like a mouse caught in a bucket.

He shoved those thoughts down while he waited for his eye to dilate. Fixating wouldn’t do him any good. The outcome was out of his hands and he just had to be patient.

One lifetime and a very bright light later, and the slightly out of focus form sat back. “Well, Mr. Tracy, your eye is healing nicely. The squiggle will vanish over time as your brain learns to ignore it.” “Learns to ignore it? You mean it’s permanent?”

“It’s a scar, Mr. Tracy. One inside your eye, but still a scar. Your brain will figure out that it’s not important and start to tune it out. Rather like it does with our noses.” Time for the hard question. “So what happens next?” “Well, you said you were here on business, so I suggest when you get home you find an ophthalmologist and make an appointment with them for a yearly follow up.”

“What?” The doctor laughed. “You’re pass the danger period Mr. Tracy. You can fly home. Your eyes will need checking on a yearly basis, especially since you had a tear this young. You know what the danger signs are. When they happen again, get to an ophthalmologist as quickly as you can to make sure it’s not more than just a tear. But other than that, you’re good to go.”

The sense of relief was so massive that Scott was light headed for a moment. Then his mind grabbed hold of a word. “You said ‘when’.”

“Everyone gets tears, Mr. Tracy. It’s part and parcel of being human. A good 70% of the time, they are minor like the one you have. But the other 30% is why I’m on call during weekends and holidays.”

There wasn’t a lot Scott could say to that. “Thank you for that, Dr.Caserta.” Dr. Caserta waved a hand. “Like I said, I’m just paying it forward.”

Scott understood that. “I’m in Sydney fairly often for business. So I’ll make that appointment with you.”

“That sounds good. So let me get you an ugly eye cover and you can get out of here. Do you need a ride?” “I have the one from my first visit and no, my brother flew out to be with me.”

“Good. I hope you had and have a lovely holiday, Mr. Tracy.”

Scott was nearly bouncing on the way back to the penthouse. He was still able to fly!

John was quietly pleased, but that was just John’s way.

“If I call the airport now, they can have Tracy One fueled and ready to go in about an hour. We should be home in time for dinner!” Scott said as he strode out of the elevator. “HAPPY CHRISTMAS!!”

Scott rocked to halt at the shout, then stumbled back as Alan hit him with a hug. He returned the hug automatically and looked around. The penthouse was decorated with lights and tinsel that Scott hadn’t had the heart to put up.  It was also filled with everyone. Grandma, Kayo, Virgil, Brains, Gordon and even MAX.

He grinned. “Happy Christmas!”

[mountrainiernps]

Are you thinking of visiting a national park like Mount Rainier this winter?

 Perhaps take a scenic drive and partake in some recreation like snowshoeing?

 While planning for time in the park, you’ll pack your 10 Essentials; navigation (map and compass, GPS), sun protection, insulation, illumination, first aid supplies, fire (emergencies only), repair tool, food, water (and water purification) and emergency shelter.

Winter has firmly gripped the upper elevations of Mount Rainier. If you’re planning on recreating in the park and away from the roads, there are some seasonal essentials to bring along for winter. A few items to help you handle the extra challenges of winter weather.

Winter 10 Essentials

Snow Shovel (compact) – for digging snow caves, etc.

Full Length Insulated Sleeping Pad -even when sitting down for a break, it’s good to be insulated from the cold snow.

Stove and Fuel – to melt snow or ice into water.

Heat Packs

Goggles and Wool/Pile Hat – for staying warm and protecting exposed skin and eyes is important.

Gloves (base/mid/shell layers) – for staying warm and protecting your skin from frostbite and low temperatures.

Avalanche Transceiver – wear one with fully charged batteries and train to use it.

Avalanche Probe – keeping one on you and training to use it are key.

Ability to assess mountain weather and avalanche hazards – educating yourself about winter weather and hazards can help you keep your adventure fun.

Map, compass & GPS (with extra batteries) – knowing how to navigate even with low visibility is a good skill to build and keep sharp. Bringing extra batteries can help when winter cold saps your battery power.

Carrying these winter 10 essentials when you snowshoe, ski or hike in the national park in winter can go a long ways towards having a positive experience. Making memories of your time in the wilderness that you can treasure for days and years to come.

Are there any other things you consider essential for winter recreation?

What is your favorite item to bring on your winter Mount Rainier adventure?

Park information on winter safety can be found here https://www.nps.gov/mora/planyourvisit/winter-safety.htm  Park information on winter travel can be found here https://www.nps.gov/mora/planyourvisit/winter-travel.htm 

These photos are from years past and do not reflect current conditions. NPS/S. Redman Photo. Snow covered evergreens with dark clouds obscuring the sun. December, 2010. NPS Photo. View from a roadside pull-out on the road to Paradise of forested hills and mountains leading up to Mount Rainier. January, 2022. NPS Photo. View from the Paradise lower parking lot looking west at smaller mountains on the southern flank of Mount Rainier. Snow covers trees and mountains. January, 2020.

[mineofilms]

The Myth of the Annunaki

In the great annals of human history, ha, anal, mostly made up of fiction, few subjects stir the imagination and ad to the aluminum foil shortage as profoundly as the Annunaki. Shrouded in myth and enigma, these ancient deities from Mesopotamian lore have sparked debates, inspired theories, created fiction, and captivated minds across the centuries. From their origins in the fertile crescent of ancient Sumer to their role in modern speculative fiction, the Annunaki embody a rich tapestry of myth, history, and imagination. This exploration delves into their ancient roots, their controversial modern reinterpretations, the fascination evoked by our imagination, and our ability to want things to be real so bad, that we’ll just take as many liberties as possible; even if all the evidence and logic say a thing like this couldn’t be real. Or could it?

The Ancient Mesopotamian Origins of the Annunaki

Our journey begins in the cradle of civilization: ancient Mesopotamia, a region that flourished between the Tigris and Euphrates rivers. Here, the Annunaki first appeared in the mythologies of the Sumerians, who are considered the earliest civilization that could write. The term "Annunaki" itself is often translated as “those who came from the heavens” or “those of royal blood.” This intriguing terminology hints at their elevated status and their perceived connection to the divine or extraterrestrial. In Sumerian mythology, the Annunaki were a pantheon of deities, or the gods of a people, who played crucial roles in the creation of our world and the regulation of its life. They were seen as powerful and unpredictable beings, with the ability to both bestow blessings and wreak havoc upon humanity. The mythological texts from this period reveal that the Annunaki were not abstract concepts but tangible entities with distinct personalities and roles. One of the key sources for understanding the Annunaki is the “Enuma Elish,” the Sumerian creation epic. This ancient narrative describes the primordial chaos from which the world emerged. This myth reflects the Sumerians' worldview, where divine power maintained the balance between chaos and order. The Annunaki's role in Sumerian society extended beyond mere mythology. They were believed to oversee the natural world and human affairs, acting as intermediaries between the gods and the people. Their stories served to justify the divine authority of kings and priests, reinforcing the idea that the rulers were chosen by the gods to maintain cosmic balance from the chaos. This divine connection legitimized the socio-political structures of ancient Mesopotamian civilization.

The Annunaki Reimagined: From Gods to Aliens

In the 20th century, the Annunaki transitioned from divine beings of ancient myth to subjects of modern speculation and conspiracy theories. This transformation was spearheaded by figures like Zecharia Sitchin, whose works have left a permanent mark on how we perceive these ancient myths. Sitchin’s ideas are detailed in his book “The 12th Planet,” where he presents the Annunaki as extraterrestrial visitors from a distant planet named Nibiru. Sitchin’s hypothesis posits that the Annunaki arrived on Earth approximately 450,000 years ago (447,976 BCE).��According to his theories, their primary mission was to mine gold, which they needed to repair the failing atmosphere of their home planet, Nibiru. There is some scientific data out there that gold particles can help build up a planet’s atmosphere. There are some intriguing parallels in scientific discussions about the potential uses of gold in atmospheric engineering. Gold is a highly reflective metal with excellent conductive properties, making it suitable for various technological applications. Some we know of and use while others are still in the planning stages. Research has suggested that dispersing gold nanoparticles in the upper atmosphere could theoretically increase a planet's reflectivity, or albedo, thereby reducing the amount of solar energy absorbed and mitigating global warming. Additionally, gold's conductive properties might enhance the electrical conductivity of the ionosphere, potentially stabilizing atmospheric conditions and protecting against solar radiation. While Sitchin's narrative lacks actual real concrete proof, the concept of using gold to address planetary environmental challenges taps into ongoing scientific exploration of innovative geoengineering solutions. Sitchin’s interpretation of ancient texts suggests that the Annunaki’s arrival marked the beginning of human civilization. He argues that these beings not only influenced early human societies but also engineered Homo sapiens through genetic manipulation. This theory, while compelling to many, is highly contentious. Sitchin’s methods and interpretations have faced substantial criticism from the academic community. It's important to note that Zecharia Sitchin lacked formal training in ancient languages and archaeology. His educational background was in economics and journalism, not in the fields relevant to his claims about Sumerian texts and ancient history. This lack of formal expertise has led many academics to criticize his translations and interpretations as speculative and unsubstantiated. His methodology and conclusions have been scrutinized for deviating from established scholarly standards, which is why his work is often labeled as pseudoscience. Pseudoscience literally means science with made-up methodologies and made-up facts. Archaeologists and historians argue that there is no credible evidence supporting the existence of Nibiru or the extraterrestrial origins of the Annunaki. His translations of Sumerian texts are flawed and his theories often stretch the evidence beyond credible limits. Despite this, Sitchin’s ideas have captivated a broad audience, fostering a popular narrative that blends ancient mythology with science fiction. His theories have become a cornerstone of the ancient astronaut hypothesis, which suggests that extraterrestrial beings visited Earth in ancient times and influenced human development. This concept resonates with our fascination with the possibility of life beyond Earth and our desire to explore the unknown or at the very least have an answer where one cannot possibly exist or be factual.

Sitchin’s Controversial Claims: Ancient Astronauts or Misinterpreted Texts?

Sitchin’s theories, particularly those presented in “The 12th Planet,” offer a provocative reimagining of the Annunaki. Sitchin suggests that Nibiru, the Annunaki’s home planet, follows a long, elliptical orbit that brings it close to Earth every 3,600 years. This periodic return, according to Sitchin, allowed the Annunaki to visit Earth and influence human civilization. Sitchin’s narrative begins with the Annunaki’s arrival on Earth, where they established the city of Eridu as their base of operations. Eridu, according to Sitchin, was the first city ever built by these ancient astronauts, serving as a center for their gold mining operations. Over time, the work on Earth became increasingly burdensome and dangerous for the Anunnaki, leading to a significant labor shortage. The Anunnaki’s own workers, who were initially tasked with these duties, were becoming overworked and dissatisfied. We will talk about the Igigi a little bit later. The idea was to create a new species that could handle the manual labor on Earth while the Anunnaki themselves could focus on more critical tasks or return to Nibiru. This led to the concept of bioengineering a creature that would serve as a workforce. The Anunnaki began experimenting with the DNA of the indigenous hominid species, Homo erectus. Through advanced genetic techniques, they combined their own DNA with that of Homo erectus to create a new hybrid species. This genetic manipulation was intended to produce beings with intelligence and physical capabilities suitable for labor. The first attempts at creating this new species were, according to Sitchin, less successful than anticipated. These early hybrids were described as "hideous creatures," struggling to meet the Anunnaki’s requirements for both labor and functionality. These early beings were likely flawed, either in their physical form or in their ability to perform the tasks required of them. Undeterred by their initial failures, the Anunnaki refined their genetic experiments. After several iterations and adjustments, they succeeded in creating a more viable and efficient version of their hybrid creation: Homo sapiens, the modern human. These beings possessed the intelligence, strength, and adaptability necessary for the laborious tasks demanded by the Anunnaki. Once successful, the Anunnaki established Homo sapiens as their labor force, overseeing them and guiding their development. This new species was tasked with performing the menial and physically demanding work that the Anunnaki had initially sought to avoid.

While there are some intriguing gaps and mysteries in human evolution, like missing fossils and sudden advancements in early cultures, scientists believe these are just natural parts of a long, gradual process rather than evidence of any external intervention. One fascinating example is the emergence of our 23rd chromosome, which resulted from the fusion of two ancestral chromosomes that our primate relatives still have as separate chromosomes. This fusion is visible in our DNA through the presence of telomere sequences and a vestigial centromere in the middle of chromosome 2, showing a natural evolutionary change rather than a direct “kick-start” from another species. However, it does bring up more questions than it does answers that all of a sudden this change occurred with no rhyme or reason. “Any sufficiently advanced technology is indistinguishable from magic” - Arthur C. Clarke. Sitchin’s theories also include a dramatic account of the great flood from the bible, which he attributes to the gravitational effects of Nibiru’s orbit. This flood, he argues, was foreseen by the Annunaki, who warned a human named Ziusudra (or Utnapishtim in the Epic of Gilgamesh and/or Noah from the Great Flood of the Bible.) to build a boat to survive the deluge. After the flood, Sitchin posits that the Annunaki played a role in the rebirth of human civilization, teaching essential skills such as agriculture and animal husbandry; which is just a fancy term for focusing on the breeding and care of animals raised for farming and construction. While these ideas are intriguing, they have been met with skepticism from mainstream scholars. Critics argue that Sitchin’s theories lack rigorous academic support. Despite this, Sitchin’s work has had a significant cultural impact, inspiring a new wave of interest in ancient astronaut theories and alternative history. It also has become a business, which opens up its own can of worms on the subject.

The Modern Legacy of the Annunaki: From Books to Podcasts

The Annunaki mythos continues to capture the imagination of contemporary audiences through a variety of media. One prominent figure in this modern exploration is Billy Carson, whose work delves into ancient civilizations and the Annunaki’s role in shaping human history. Carson’s insights, particularly as discussed on “The Joe Rogan Experience (#2160),” explore how ancient myths might reflect actual historical events involving advanced beings. Carson argues that the Annunaki myths could be more than mere stories, suggesting that they might represent a blend of historical events and spiritual beliefs. His theories offer a contemporary perspective on the Annunaki narrative, examining how ancient myths might encode real encounters with extraterrestrial visitors. Carson’s discussions with Joe Rogan explore the idea that ancient texts from Sumerian culture, and other ancient civilizations, might document actual interactions with advanced beings. This perspective aligns with the broader ancient astronaut hypothesis, which suggests that myths of gods descending from the heavens could reflect historical contact with extraterrestrial civilizations. Billy Carson's theories are derived from Zecharia Sitchin's work. So take it with a grain of salt.

The Igigi in Annunaki Lore

The Igigi, as envisioned in contemporary speculative fiction, are often compared to the Greys of UFO lore—those mysterious, otherworldly beings who have captivated the imaginations of some and terrified others. Here, we encounter a striking physical resemblance that underscores their role within the Annunaki’s grand design. A concurred race from an early Annunaki invasion, these tall, slender beings, their forms reminiscent of the Greys with their short stature and large, almond-shaped eyes. Their skin, a subtle gray hue, reflects an alien quality, hinting at a nature that is both familiar and profoundly otherworldly. Their appearance serves as a visual manifestation of their role as intermediaries between the Annunaki and the cosmos. Dressed in functional, utilitarian garments, the Igigi’s attire speaks to their subservient status. These simple, perhaps even austere outfits might be adorned with symbols or insignia, marking their place within the Annunaki’s hierarchical system. Their clothing, devoid of adornment, reinforces their role as laborers rather than equals. The Annunaki and the Igigi are often mentioned as being one in the same but are actually two distinct separate alien species. At least as far as the lore goes.

• Tools of the Trade: Often depicted wielding advanced, enigmatic technology, the Igigi’s tools and equipment hint at a civilization far more advanced than that of humans. These artifacts, sleek and enigmatic, serve as symbols of the Annunaki’s technological prowess and the Igigi’s role in maintaining their dominion over Earth. Some say the tools leftover after the Annunaki left helped build the first, really large pyramids. The more present-day we get with the pyramids the less technologically advanced they are. Where the farther back we go, the bigger and more extravagant the pyramids become. The Igigi are often envisioned as the Annunaki’s labor force, tasked with monumental projects from the construction of grand temples to the maintenance of celestial machinery. This portrayal aligns with ancient mythological themes of divine beings employing subservient races to fulfill their plans.

• Subordinate Yet Significant: Within this narrative, the Igigi occupy a space that is subordinate yet distinctly advanced. They are positioned as beings with greater skills or knowledge than humans, suggesting a complex, multitiered structure of existence in which they play a crucial role in the Annunaki’s rein.

• Cultural Reflections: The Igigi physical form, their role in the Annunaki hierarchy, and their place in modern speculative fiction all serve as lenses through which we can explore deeper existential questions. The Igigi invites us to reflect on the nature of servitude, the structure of divine power, and our own place in the grand scheme of existence. We find ourselves drawn into cosmic feelings and thoughts that challenge and inspire us. It also scares us to our core foundation that we may just be an insignificant race of worker ants.

The Enuma Elish and Its Cosmic Significance

The Enuma Elish is an ancient Mesopotamian/Sumerian creation epic that dates back to the late second millennium BCE, (2000 BCE to 1001 BCE.) This epic is more than a religious text; it is a reflection of the Sumerians' understanding of the universe and their place within it. In the Enuma Elish, the universe begins in a state of primordial chaos, where Tiamat, the goddess of the saltwater ocean, battles the god Marduk, who represents the forces of order and creation. Marduk’s victory signifies the establishment of the cosmos, with the world being created from Tiamat’s body. This mythological narrative embodies the Sumerians' view of the divine as a force that imposes order upon chaos, a theme that echoes throughout Mesopotamian religion and governance. The epic also illustrates the Sumerians' concept of divine kingship. Marduk’s ascension to supremacy among the gods symbolizes the divine right of kings to rule over the human realm. The Annunaki’s role as divine judges and rulers reflects this belief, showing how mythology was intertwined with political and social structures in Sumerian society.

The Great Flood: Myth and Reality

One of the most enduring aspects of the Annunaki narrative is the story of the Great Flood, which appears in various ancient myths, including the Epic of Gilgamesh. According to Sitchin, this flood was a cataclysmic event caused by Nibiru’s orbit and was a pivotal moment in human history. The flood story serves as a metaphor for both destruction and renewal. It represents the cyclical nature of existence, where the end of one era leads to the beginning of another. This mythological theme is reflected in other ancient cultures, such as the biblical flood narrative of Noah’s Ark, highlighting a shared human fascination with the idea of divine intervention in shaping history. This also gives insight that other branches of humanity survived the Great Flood. Not many pockets, but some did. There was not much left. Pockets of survivors here/there. The Annunaki began to help humanity rebuild, but in a limited way. Showing humans some science but leaving much of it in the dark. We turn the light switch on, but don’t know why it works. Just that it works and we have some idea how to fix the switch when it breaks, but we cannot literally build a new one as they did. Just our badly back-engineered knowledge of the thing. This seems even more prevalent today.

The Fascination with the Annunaki

We question our understanding of the past and explore the possibilities of what lies beyond our world, our understanding. The Annunaki’s legacy is not confined to academic study or historical research. They continue to inspire a wide range of creative works, from books and documentaries to podcasts and films. Some intended to be works of fiction while others try to paint the picture as this really did happen in our distant past. This ongoing fascination reflects a deep-seated human desire to connect with the mysteries of existence and to explore the unknown.

Embracing the Enigma - “You Are Bugs…”

The Annunaki’s story, rooted in the myths of ancient Mesopotamia and reimagined through modern theories, offers a rich and multifaceted narrative that invites us to explore the boundaries of our knowledge and imagination. As we delve into the history and speculation surrounding the Annunaki, we confront not only ancient mysteries, but also the limits of our perception and the possibilities of what might lie beyond. Whether viewed as gods, aliens, or metaphorical figures, the Annunaki challenge us to embrace the enigma of our origins and to seek out the answers to the great questions of existence. The Annunaki’s journey from ancient Mesopotamian myths to contemporary theories highlights the enduring allure of these celestial beings. Their story encourages us to explore the unknown and to question the narratives that shape our understanding of the universe. The Annunaki stand as a testament to the power of myth and the endless possibilities of the human imagination.

If beings like the Greys, Anunnaki, and Igigi are real, the implications for mankind could be deeply terrifying and unsettling. The existence of such advanced entities would create a profound power imbalance, leaving humanity vulnerable to their superior technology and intellect, which might challenge our beliefs about our own significance and place in the universe. The fear of being controlled or manipulated by these beings could evoke a sense of existential dread, as we might question the very meaning of our existence, existence in general, and the potential for extinction or enslavement of our species. Historically, the idea that these beings might have shaped our civilizations and beliefs from the shadows would undermine our understanding of our past and cast doubt on our sense of free will and autonomy as the dominant species on this planet. The terror of the unknown—where their intentions are indecipherable and could involve invasive experiments or even global invasions—would stir fears of being watched, violated, or destroyed. This fear would also have a global psychological impact, leading to anxiety, paranoia, and a crisis of identity as we confront the reality that we might be insignificant in the grand cosmic scheme. “You are bugs…” ~Liu Cixin, The Three-Body Problem. Philosophically, the existence of such beings would provoke deep questions about our own morality of our collective behavior in the past 3,000 years, the morality of their actions, and our own role in the universe. Challenging our beliefs about existence and ethics. This realization of the Greys, Anunnaki, and Igigi as real entities would force us to face an unsettling truth about our vulnerability, the reliability of our historical narratives, the very nature of our existence in the cosmos, and that God exists and created us in its own image. Perhaps to just hear our screams. Even God cannot hear bugs scream, in space.

All the information here was derived from the main outline below. If anyone wanted a very short telling of this tale via a basic timescale outline, there is one below.

"I felt an absolutely indescribable sense of menace. It was hell on earth to be there, and yet I couldn't move, couldn't cry out, couldn't get away. I'd lay as still as death, suffering inner agonies." ~Whitley Strieber, “Communion” 2/25/1987

The Myth of the Annunaki by David-Angelo Mineo 7/1/2024 3,336 Words

Outline: Ancient Timeline of Earth

The Annunaki Myth, Religious Myths, and Modern Innovations

Ancient Timeline of Earth and Mankind: The Annunaki

Pre-Earth Events

Primordial Era

The Enuma Elish describes the creation of the world starting with the primordial gods Apsu (freshwater) and Tiamat (salt water). Their mingling leads to the birth of younger gods, including Ea (Enki), who defeats Apsu and later Tiamat, establishing order from chaos.

Arrival of the Annunaki

Circa 450,000 years ago

According to Sitchin’s "The 12th Planet," advanced beings called the Annunaki arrive on Earth from their home planet, Nibiru. Nibiru’s elongated orbit brings it into the inner solar system approximately every 3,600 years.

Establishment of Eridu

Circa 445,000 years ago

The Annunaki establish Eridu, the first city on Earth, in southern Mesopotamia. Enki, the god of wisdom, water, and creation, oversees the development of Eridu as a base for mining operations.

Gold Mining and the Creation of Man

Circa 300,000 years ago

The Annunaki face labor shortages and hardships in their gold mining operations. Enki and the goddess Ninhursag create Homo sapiens by genetically modifying Homo erectus with Annunaki DNA. The first humans, known as "Lulu," are created to serve as workers for the Annunaki.

The Deluge (Great Flood)

Circa 13,000 years ago

The Epic of Gilgamesh and Sitchin’s writings describe a great deluge caused by the gravitational pull of Nibiru passing near Earth. Enki warns Ziusudra (Utnapishtim and/or Noah) to build a large boat to save himself, his family, and various species from the flood.

Post-Flood Reconstruction

Post-Flood Era (circa 10,000 BCE)

The Annunaki help humanity rebuild civilization after the flood. Agriculture, animal husbandry, and advanced knowledge are shared with humans. Key cities such as Ur, Uruk, and Nippur are established and flourish.

Rise of City-States and Kingship

Circa 3,000 BCE

Sumerian city-states rise to prominence, each with a patron god or goddess. Kingship is seen as a divine institution bestowed by the Annunaki. Inanna (Ishtar) becomes a significant deity, known for her power, beauty, and political influence.

The Epic of Gilgamesh

Circa 2,600 BCE

The historical King Gilgamesh of Uruk embarks on a quest for immortality. The epic narrative includes interactions with gods and mythical creatures, reflecting the close relationship between humans and the divine.

Decline of Annunaki Influence

Circa 1,000 BCE and onward

The direct influence of the Annunaki wanes as human civilizations grow more independent. The memory of the Annunaki becomes mythologized in various cultures, giving rise to numerous legends and religious narratives.

Comprehensive Timeline: Annunaki Myth, Christian Bible, and Western Civilization

Ancient Mythological and Religious Accounts

Early Sumerian Civilization (c. 4500-1900 BCE)

The Annunaki are a group of deities linked to the Sumerians, Akkadians, Assyrians, and Babylonians. They are depicted as judges of the underworld and creators of mankind. Primary sources include Sumerian texts such as the Enuma Elish and the Epic of Gilgamesh.

Ancient Mesopotamian Mythology (c. 1900-539 BCE)

The Annunaki myth expands in Babylonian and Assyrian mythology. The Annunaki are positioned below higher gods like Anu, Enlil, and Ea/Enki.

Egyptian Civilization

Old Kingdom of Egypt (c. 2686-2181 BCE)

Egyptian mythology includes gods like Ra, Osiris, and Isis. Creation myths often involve gods emerging from primordial chaos. Construction of pyramids, including the Great Pyramid of Giza.

New Kingdom of Egypt (c. 1550-1070 BCE)

Heightened worship of gods like Amun-Ra. Pharaohs are considered divine or semi-divine. Cultural achievements include the expansion of the empire, construction of temples, and advancements in art and literature.

Greek Civilization

Classical Greece (c. 508-323 BCE)

Greek mythology features gods like Zeus, Hera, and Athena. Creation myths include the Titans and Olympians. Contributions by Socrates, Plato, Aristotle lead to the development of early scientific thought.

Hellenistic Period (c. 323-31 BCE)

Greek culture spreads throughout the Mediterranean and Near East following the conquests of Alexander the Great. Syncretism leads to the blending of Greek and local deities and myths.

Roman Civilization

Roman Republic (c. 509-27 BCE)

Roman gods parallel Greek deities, e.g., Jupiter (Zeus), Venus (Aphrodite). Political developments include the establishment of the Republic and the codification of Roman law.

Roman Empire (27 BCE-476 CE)

Emergence and spread of Christianity, including the crucifixion of Jesus Christ (c. 30 CE). Cultural achievements include extensive road networks, architectural marvels like the Colosseum, and legal advancements.

Development of Europe

Early Middle Ages (c. 476-1000 CE)

Christianity becomes dominant in Europe. Monasticism and the establishment of the papacy. Development of feudalism and manorialism.

High and Late Middle Ages (c. 1000-1500 CE)

The Crusades: Religious wars aimed at reclaiming the Holy Land. Cultural revival includes Gothic architecture, universities, and scholasticism.

Renaissance (c. 1300-1600 CE)

Rebirth of classical knowledge: Revival of Greek and Roman knowledge. Advancements in art, science, and exploration. Humanism focuses on human potential and achievements.

Formation of Modern Western Culture

Reformation and Enlightenment (c. 1500-1800 CE)

Martin Luther’s 95 Theses (1517) sparks the Protestant Reformation. Scientific developments by Copernicus, Galileo, and Newton. The Enlightenment emphasizes reason, individualism, and skepticism of authority.

Formation of England and Modern Europe (c. 800-1800 CE)

Formation of early English kingdoms. The Norman Conquest (1066) establishes Norman rule. The development of modern nation-states in Europe.

Industrial Revolution and Modern Era (c. 1800-Present)

Technological advancements, urbanization, and economic changes. Influence of Western culture globally, driven by economic, technological, and cultural factors. Continued advancements in science and technology. Widespread debunking of pseudo-scientific theories like Sitchin’s Annunaki hypothesis.

Integration of Annunaki Myth and Christian Bible

Modern Interpretations and Pseudo-scientific Theories (1976 onwards)

Zecharia Sitchin proposes that the Annunaki are extraterrestrial beings from the planet Nibiru, influencing early human history. Sitchin’s theories are widely discredited by scholars and scientists.

Cultural Impact and Ongoing Beliefs (2000s-Present)

Annunaki and Nibiru myths influence books, movies, and online discussions. Christian themes remain prevalent in Western culture, influencing literature, art, and media. Despite scientific debunking, belief in Sitchin’s theories persists in some communities.