#additional storage capacity

[joshconnor]

Floating Shelves

Introduction

Fitnfloat is a brand that specializes in providing a variety of floating shelves, which are a popular and versatile addition to any home, offering both functionality and style. Whether you're looking to display books, photos, or decorative items, or simply need more storage space, floating shelves are a great option that can complement any room's decor. From wall-mounted shelves to corner shelves, picture ledges to kitchen shelves, we'll explore the best options for your specific needs, and help you make an informed decision. Whether you're a DIY enthusiast, a professional designer, or a casual home decorator, this article has something for everyone who wants to add a touch of elegance and functionality to their living space.

Common Questions about Floating Shelves

Floating shelves are a popular choice for homeowners looking to maximize storage space and add a touch of style to their living space. However, there are many common questions that people have about these shelves before purchasing them. Below are some of the most frequently asked questions, along with the answers you need to know:

How much weight can a floating shelf hold?

The weight capacity of a floating shelf can vary depending on the brand, design, and materials used. However, on average, most Fitnfloat's floating shelves can hold between 20-60 pounds of weight. It's important to read the weight capacity specifications for any shelf you're considering, and to make sure the weight of the items you plan to display does not exceed the limit.

Are floating shelves still in style?

Yes, Fitnfloat's floating shelves remain a popular and trendy addition to any home decor. From classic white floating shelves to rustic wooden shelves, there are many designs and materials to choose from that can match your personal style and preferences.

Can I install floating shelves without drilling?

While drilling is the most secure and reliable way to install floating shelves, there are some alternatives that don't require drilling. For example, adhesive strips or hooks can be used to mount lightweight shelves, while brackets or brackets with anchors can be used for heavier shelves.

Do floating shelves make a room look smaller?

Floating shelves can actually have the opposite effect and make a room appear larger by creating the illusion of more space. This is especially true for lighter colored shelves, which can reflect light and create a brighter atmosphere.

What is the rule of thumb for floating shelves?

As a rule of thumb, Fitnfloat's floating shelves should be installed at a height that is comfortable for the user to access the items displayed on them. In general, the recommended height for floating shelves is between 6-12 inches above a piece of furniture or around eye level for a standing person.

By addressing these common questions, we hope to have provided you with the information you need to make an informed decision about buying and installing Fitnfloat's floating shelves in your home.

Types and Styles of Floating Shelves

When it comes to floating shelves, there are many different types and styles to choose from. Here are some of the most popular:

Wall-Mounted Shelves: These are the most common type of floating shelves and can be found in a wide range of sizes, colors, and materials. They are great for displaying books, plants, and decorative items, and can be arranged in a variety of configurations to suit your needs.

Picture Ledges: These are perfect for displaying artwork, photos, and other small items. They are usually shallow and can be arranged in a gallery-style display.

Kitchen Shelves: These are specifically designed for use in kitchens and can be used to store cookware, dishes, and other kitchen essentials. They can be made from wood or metal and can be installed in a variety of configurations.

www.fitnfloat.com.au

[electronalytics]

Enterprise Hard Disk Market Statistics, Segment, Trends and Forecast to 2032

An enterprise hard disk is a type of high-performance storage device designed for use in enterprise-level environments, where reliability, durability, and fast data access speeds are critical. These hard disks are typically used in servers, data centers, and other high-performance computing applications, where they are used to store large amounts of data and provide fast access to that data.

Enterprise hard disks are typically available in both SAS (Serial Attached SCSI) and SATA (Serial ATA) interfaces, and they come in a range of storage capacities. They are also designed to operate in high-temperature and high-vibration environments, which makes them suitable for use in data centers and other industrial settings.

One key feature of enterprise hard disks is their high reliability. They are designed with advanced error correction mechanisms and other technologies to minimize the risk of data loss due to hardware failure. Many enterprise hard disks also come with built-in redundancy features, such as RAID (Redundant Array of Independent Disks), which provides additional protection against data loss.

The estimated market size for the Enterprise Hard Disc Drives (HDD) Market is provided in terms of both value (million USD) and volume (K Units). Enterprise Hard Disc Drives (HDD) market size has been estimated and validated using both top-down and bottom-up methodologies. These approaches have also been used to estimate the size of numerous additional dependent submarkets within the overall market. Secondary research has been used to identify the major market participants, and primary and secondary research has been used to estimate their market shares. Both confirmed secondary sources and primary sources have been used to calculate all percentage shares, splits, and breakdowns.

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Market Segmentations:

Global Enterprise Hard Disk Market: By Company • Seagate • Western Digital • Toshiba • Eaget • Lenovo • Founder Global Enterprise Hard Disk Market: By Type • External Hard Drives • Internal Hard Drives Global Enterprise Hard Disk Market: By Application • For Desktop • For Notebook • For Server Global Enterprise Hard Disk Market: Regional Analysis All the regional segmentation has been studied based on recent and future trends, and the market is forecasted throughout the prediction period. The countries covered in the regional analysis of the Global Enterprise Hard Disk market report are U.S., Canada, and Mexico in North America, Germany, France, U.K., Russia, Italy, Spain, Turkey, Netherlands, Switzerland, Belgium, and Rest of Europe in Europe, Singapore, Malaysia, Australia, Thailand, Indonesia, Philippines, China, Japan, India, South Korea, Rest of Asia-Pacific (APAC) in the Asia-Pacific (APAC), Saudi Arabia, U.A.E, South Africa, Egypt, Israel, Rest of Middle East and Africa (MEA) as a part of Middle East and Africa (MEA), and Argentina, Brazil, and Rest of South America as part of South America.

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Syndicated market research reports, on the other hand, are pre-existing reports that are available for purchase by multiple clients. These reports are often produced on a regular basis, such as annually or quarterly, and cover a broad range of industries and market segments. Syndicated reports provide clients with insights into industry trends, market sizes, and competitive landscapes. By offering both custom and syndicated reports, Stringent Datalytics can provide clients with a range of market research solutions that can be customized to their specific needs.

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[reasonsforhope]

"A 1-megawatt sand battery that can store up to 100 megawatt hours of thermal energy will be 10 times larger than a prototype already in use.

The new sand battery will eliminate the need for oil-based energy consumption for the entire town of town of Pornainen, Finland.

Sand gets charged with clean electricity and stored for use within a local grid.

Finland is doing sand batteries big. Polar Night Energy already showed off an early commercialized version of a sand battery in Kankaanpää in 2022, but a new sand battery 10 times that size is about to fully rid the town of Pornainen, Finland of its need for oil-based energy.

In cooperation with the local Finnish district heating company Loviisan Lämpö, Polar Night Energy will develop a 1-megawatt sand battery capable of storing up to 100 megawatt hours of thermal energy.

“With the sand battery,” Mikko Paajanen, CEO of Loviisan Lämpö, said in a statement, “we can significantly reduce energy produced by combustion and completely eliminate the use of oil.”

Polar Night Energy introduced the first commercial sand battery in 2022, with local energy utility Vatajankoski. “Its main purpose is to work as a high-power and high-capacity reservoir for excess wind and solar energy,” Markku Ylönen, Polar Nigh Energy’s co-founder and CTO, said in a statement at the time. “The energy is stored as heat, which can be used to heat homes, or to provide hot steam and high temperature process heat to industries that are often fossil-fuel dependent.” ...

Sand—a high-density, low-cost material that the construction industry discards [Note: 6/13/24: Turns out that's not true! See note at the bottom for more info.] —is a solid material that can heat to well above the boiling point of water and can store several times the amount of energy of a water tank. While sand doesn’t store electricity, it stores energy in the form of heat. To mine the heat, cool air blows through pipes, heating up as it passes through the unit. It can then be used to convert water into steam or heat water in an air-to-water heat exchanger. The heat can also be converted back to electricity, albeit with electricity losses, through the use of a turbine.

In Pornainen, Paajanen believes that—just by switching to a sand battery—the town can achieve a nearly 70 percent reduction in emissions from the district heating network and keep about 160 tons of carbon dioxide out of the atmosphere annually. In addition to eliminating the usage of oil, they expect to decrease woodchip combustion by about 60 percent.

The sand battery will arrive ready for use, about 42 feet tall and 49 feet wide. The new project’s thermal storage medium is largely comprised of soapstone, a byproduct of Tulikivi’s production of heat-retaining fireplaces. It should take about 13 months to get the new project online, but once it’s up and running, the Pornainen battery will provide thermal energy storage capacity capable of meeting almost one month of summer heat demand and one week of winter heat demand without recharging.

“We want to enable the growth of renewable energy,” Paajanen said. “The sand battery is designed to participate in all Fingrid’s reserve and balancing power markets. It helps to keep the electricity grid balanced as the share of wind and solar energy in the grid increases.”"

-via Popular Mechanics, March 13, 2024

--

Note: I've been keeping an eye on sand batteries for a while, and this is really exciting to see. We need alternatives to lithium batteries ASAP, due to the grave human rights abuses and environmental damage caused by lithium mining, and sand batteries look like a really good solution for grid-scale energy storage.

--

Note 6/13/24: Unfortunately, turns out there are substantial issues with sand batteries as well, due to sand scarcity. More details from a lovely asker here, sources on sand scarcity being a thing at the links: x, x, x, x, x

[thoughtlessarse]

The U.S. military has announced the sale of billions of dollars of missiles, bombs, and other weapons to Israel in the past year, as the campaign in Gaza grinds on. Now, the Department of Defense is also building aircraft facilities in Israel to accommodate American-made refueling tanker planes, according to newly issued public contracting documents reviewed by The Intercept. The project includes new construction and upgrades of existing buildings, including one or more hangars, warehouses, and storage facilities, at an Israeli military base in the south of Israel, according to Army Corps of Engineers documents. The construction stems from a nearly $1 billion contract, awarded to defense giant Boeing in 2022, to provide Israel with four KC-46A Pegasus tanker aircraft to be delivered by the end of 2026. The purchase of the KC-46As was seen as a signal of Israel’s determination to increase its capacity to strike Iran’s nuclear facilities. The KC-46A is the newest tanker being produced for the U.S. Air Force to replace its two aging models. The new aircraft has been plagued with myriad problems, including issues with its Remote Vision System, which allows the boom operator to see the boom through a video feed. The plane has also become a financial burden, racking up more than $7 billion in losses.

continue reading

Giving Israel the increased capability to strike Iran will certainly calm tensions in the region. On the plus side, they're relying on Boeing making an aircraft that's "plagued with myriad problems." With a bit of luck the doors will fall off mid-air.

[zvaigzdelasas]

To put the sheer size of the 8 GW solar farm in perspective, the three largest solar farms in the world by capacity are China’s Ningxia Tenggeli and Golmud Wutumeiren solar farms, with a capacity of 3 MW each, and a 3.5-GW solar farm outside Urumqi, Xinjiang’s capital.

In addition to the massive solar farm, the $10.99 billion project will also consist of 4 GW of wind, 5 GWh of energy storage capacity, 200 MW of solar thermal, and [...] 4 GW of coal-fired power. It will be sited in Ordos, in northern China’s Inner Mongolia region, the Shanghai-listed company said in a stock filing.[...]

The project will break ground in September and is expected to come online by June 2027.

2 Jul 24

[cherubchoirs]

character notes on v1's design team mel, cas, and belle......mel was the head and originator of the project, the one who developed blood-absorption plating and largely conceived of v1 as a counter to the earthmover. cas was software lead, who was able to produce a new generation of supreme machine intelligence suited to fighting in the earthmover. belle was the hardware lead, who understood how to make v1 lightweight yet sturdy, and integrated a proper system to actually work with mel's new plating.

mel is an eccentric who has been ill most of his life due to severe lung and skin damage resulting from pollution and fire exposure without proper protection. his poor health has caused him to be consumed with his creative pursuits, v1 being the culmination of a near decade of dedicated work and dreaming...as a result, acutely aware he has little time left to know it, mel cares deeply for his creation and does everything he can to connect with it. he is viewed in many ways as unstable, but cas and belle can see mel's genuine enthusiasm and confidence in what they have made, what was born from so much isolation and late nights pushing his declining body to its limits. his interest lies in the art of what he has made, not so much conceiving the end of the war but instead simply wanting v1 to create an irreplaceable new generation of machines. one that cannot be outdone, immune to obsolescence. however, he dies before the new peace is established, never knowing his child was shelved without ever having a chance to prove itself the way he knew it would. cas and belle are the ones who advocate to save v1, just in case, not wanting to see mel's dream die with him even when it's been rendered obsolete under the one condition mel couldn't have predicted. they oversee v2's creation, hoping it will carry mel's torch, and terribly let down when it goes the same way as the first. too expensive. too unnecessary. it can't be sold.

cas is the most existential of the group, aware of the machines' capacity for sentience and knowing v1 will be much more capable than most given how he programs it. it gives him terrible anxiety and insomnia, haunted by creating something so perfected for war yet that could know itself, could develop an identity in the horror of its reality. he finds little comfort in mel, who wishes more than anything to see v1 become much more than any other machine, to truly achieve that standing of "supreme", while belle thinks little of such things as long as it ends this damn war. it makes cas much stricter about protocol, attempting to prevent what he believes to be the cruelest fate imaginable for v1 - no treating v1 as anything other than a war machine, keep to drills, to training, affirmatives or negatives to its performances. cold grades, nothing else. this, of course, fails terribly - it comes to a head when, during one-on-one training with mel, v1 calls the medics for him when he passes out due his oxygen running low. cas knows how he programmed it, he knows it was never taught to give assistance...it saving mel proves it's already thinking outside of his parameters, and he can't stop it. in addition to preserving mel's legacy, cas insists on v1's storage rather than dismantling it because destroying it now would be too cruel after he made it this way.

belle is largely a utilitarian, though she is often angry and rough in her approach because she's exhausted by war. she works very closely with mel, putting her genius together with his to make anything he needs a reality as she believes this is their last ticket out. the earthmovers are killing everything, killing them - she often feels like she must have lost her mind, the way so many others take this never ending war as a given, as the default for humanity. she puts everything into making v1, her skill enabling it to work at full capacity on just 1% of blood. she develops the feedbacker, perfectly complimenting mel's blood plating and the quick, clever brain cas has programmed. she's lightning fast with her fixes and she places her dreams on v1 in a way similar to mel but without the sentimentality - she needs out, she wants it to be done, and she's willing to do anything to push through her own limits to get there. belle is shocked when the new peace is achieved without any implementation of what they all worked so hard for...and while she can't be upset about her one wish being granted, there is something bittersweet in seeing their prototype now go to waste. she endorses the creation of v2 as a way to see their work at least continue on to maintain the peace, but is aware of how much of a longshot it is. still, she is forever proud of v1 and v2, believing they truly had created the best.

[hellfirenacht]

Players Wanted: Session 0

Fic Summary: Various Readers ask to join Hellfire. Eddie Munson x Reader

A new semester meant that Hellfire Club was now open for new members again. It was rare that anyone new joined Hellfire in any permanent capacity during the Spring semester, but not completely unheard of. Grant had shown up in the middle of Spring his freshman year, having been a transfer from outside of Hawkins after all. 

But this wasn’t just any Spring semester, this was the Spring Semester of 1986, baby! This was Eddie’s final year, the finish line, everything that he had worked so damn hard for over the past six years. Nothing was going to stop him, not Higgins, not his dad, not this damn town that was turned against him. 

This was finally going to be his year. 

And with this being his year, Eddie had been working hard on his final campaign. This was going to be his grand finale, one that he had been pouring his heart and soul into over the past few months. The Cult of Vecna. 

Of course, with this being the end of an era for Hellfire Club, Eddie wanted to go out with the best party imaginable. He was going to throw everything he could into this, be as sadistic and hard on his players as he could. They could handle it, they’d been playing with him long enough that he knew exactly what they could handle. His little sheepies weren’t about to back down from a challenge. 

The new semester also meant refreshing club applications for the last time. Normally Eddie didn’t bother, if it wasn’t broke then don’t fix it. The applications had stayed the same over the last few years. HELLFIRE CLUB. ADVENTURERS WANTED. Fill out your name, race, and class and come by the drama storage room on Friday. 

This wasn’t amateur hour though, and Eddie wasn’t here to babysit any new players. For this last campaign, he wanted everyone in his party to be on the same level, same playing field, same knowledge of the rules, so a little tweaking was in order. 

ONLY EXPERIENCED ADVENTURERS!

If he was going to be completely honest with himself, even if someone showed up with minimal knowledge he’d probably still let them in. He needed to train the future leaders of Hellfire how to handle the next generation of Freaks anyway. Jeff wasn’t the most patient with newbies, but he’d have to learn. Gareth was also starting to ask questions about DMing now, and Eddie couldn’t help but wonder how Hellfire would fare after Eddie’s graduation. 

If someone showed real interest, then they’d be allowed in. Which brought Eddie to the second new addition to the application. 

*Give this completed form to Eddie Munson in the Hawkins highschool lunchroom 

There. He’d had his share of bogus applicants in the past, just trying to be funny and waste his time. If you were going to join the Freak Show, you were going to show up center stage and ask the Dungeon Master himself. 

Satisfied, Eddie took the stack of applications and set them on the table in the main hall of the high school, next to the other stacks of applications for all the other clubs in school. 

As he turned the corner to head to his first period, he didn’t notice another person pick up the Hellfire Club application... 

Welcome to my mini series! Each chapter will have a different type of Reader asking to join Hellfire club! I am trying to keep it to one type of reader per chapter, so one Shy, one Popular, one Cheerleader, one Freak, etc! However I really want this to be interactive, so either fill out the form and drop it in my inbox or leave a comment to let me know what kind of Reader you want to see, and you’ll get more likely to be picked if you give me more detail! 

-----

Master List

And if you’re thinking “Rachel, don’t you have like, 4 other series you should be working on?” think about other things instead, please. 

Welcome to Hellfire. 

[noodleblade]

All those years of expertise made piecing together a new Breakdown almost a game. There was a terrible, exhilarating pleasure in the exercise. A guilt and desperate want coiled in his tanks as his processor wove together all its knowledge of anatomy, surgery and medicine.

Or, a post-canon Knock Out attempts to bring his partner back from the dead. [Frankenstein kobd au]

fic below the cut

Nothing is so painful to the human mind as a great and sudden change.

“So, uh, I know it’s bare bones but it’s the best we have for now.”

Knock Out, without looking, could feel the uncomfortable wince Bumblebee gave at the arrival of their “new medbay.” Even he could see it was not quite up to the standard that had initially been promised.

‘Empty storeroom’ would be a better descriptor. 

Crates and dust filled most of the space; three medslabs in various states of disrepair were being used as shelves for additional storage. Wires hung from the ceiling, sparking at the cuts as the auxiliary power attempted to light the secondary overhead lights. Rust had started to eat away at the enamel paint of the support beams. It was nothing a buff and repaint couldn’t fix but as of now, it only added to its dilapidated aesthetic.

Knock Out couldn’t say this was what he envisioned his life would be like when he joined the Autobots. Then again, with most of Cybertron looking even worse than this, the medbay and the conjoined rest of their new headquarters looked pristine in comparison. The Autobots were dead set on restoring Cybertron to its former glory and it meant reconstructed efforts and a proper headquarters. 

Or really, reacquainting themselves with their old command headquarters back before they had fled Cybertron. 

The old Autobot base in Iacon had been heavily damaged by time and war. Knock Out was surprised Megatron hadn’t flattened it to the ground before departing. As it was, he was thankful the structure remained.

While the entire building needed to be patched and repaired, and all of the equipment was probably defective and defunct, it was more secure than any other building currently on Cybertron. It still had all its walls, it had a functioning roof, and- most importantly -it had a nearly intact medbay. Not many other structures on Cybertron could claim the same. In the few short cycles since taking back possession of their old base, most of the refuse and grime had been cleared away, making it mostly livable - far more so than the fading light of the Nemesis as structural cracks made the ship a ticking time bomb to collapse. 

It wasn’t perfect, but nothing really would be. Not for a while.

Maybe Ratchet had the right idea in staying on Earth.

“It’ll take some time to clean up,” Ultra Magnus added stiffly, as if it weren’t already apparent. 

The words drifted in and out of Knock Out’s audials as he walked further into the cluttered medbay. He peeked between the crates to see some monitoring equipment shoved against the walls. They all looked outdated, probably wouldn’t even turn on. They were pre-war and seemed to have been forgotten to the past, much like most of Cybertron had once the planet died. It was amazing that they survived in any capacity; even if they were nonfunctional, they could at least be scrapped for parts. 

Knock Out was not unfamiliar with the process. Before the Nemesis and its shiny, new tech, he and- they had scavenged for a lot of equipment. Being on their own had made them crafty and resourceful. It made them survivors. 

Some survivors, Knock Out thought bitterly, desperately ignoring the cold, empty space next to him. 

“Smokescreen can help you clear this out,” Ultra Magnus continued in his curt professional tone. There was a small beginnings of a protest from the young mech but a stern, quiet reprimand must have been issued because it was silenced before becoming anything more. 

Knock Out could feel optics on him- waiting for him -so he gave a quick affirmative nod and a muted hum. It would take them ages to clear this out, not to mention most of it was probably scrap. He did not relish the task nor did he feel particularly motivated to do…anything. Joining the Autobots had been survival instinct kicking in but now that the adrenaline was gone and quiet had taken over, Knock Out wondered what there was to even survive for.

“We’ll leave you to it then,” Bumblebee quietly said and there was a shuffle of pedes as they left through the medbay doors. 

The doors shut with a sound thud. Quiet echoed in the weight of their exit. Knowing a certain young speedster had been left in his care, the silence couldn’t last long-

“So, where do we begin, Doc?”

Knock Out turned his helm and for half a nano-klik, his spark stalled at the flash of blue, before his processor came back to him and he realized it was too warm a hue, too shiny a finish, and too alive a mech. Disappointment was quickly overcome by grief that was immediately squashed and quelled for apathy. There was no point getting misty-eyed in front of his little reluctant helper.

His optics raked over Smokescreen leaning against a not-so-modest stack of crates. Despite his relaxed, “cool-guy” pose, Knock Out watched how Smokescreen’s doorwings twitched in eager anticipation, his digits tapping idly as he waited for Knock Out’s response. He was not a mech known to sit still for very long or holding much patience.

“Don’t care,” Knock Out threw out flippantly, mildly amused how expressive the young mech was as his eager smirk shifted to disappointment. 

“Right,” Smokescreen muttered with a small pout. His disappointment at Knock Out’s lack of enthusiasm only quieted him for half a klik. “So, are we just tossing it all out, or…?”

Knock Out let out a lengthy, dramatic sigh. In truth, it came out more tired than he cared to admit. He finally turned around, leaning his hip against the cluttered medslab. He looked at his clawed digits in a show of disinterest. 

“We’ll start sorting it into stacks. Anything broken or rusted over, toss. Anything that looks marginally salvageable, I’ll look through. Once we clear off a corner, we can start organization-” Smokescreen let out a complaining groan but Knock Out continued, “-and sanitation unless you would enjoy a rust infection when you inevitably end up on my medslab.”

“Fine, fine,” Smokescreen huffed, shuffling his pedes in his reluctance to actually work. “Honestly, if it gets me off patrol duty with Sir Rules and Regulation, I’ll take whatever you got.”

Yes, Knock Out had heard Smokescreen’s numerous complaints about their newest Second in Command. 

“Being a good little soldier means following your commander’s orders. That’s why I chose an occupation that allows me to be my own boss.”

“You suggesting I become a medic?” Smokescreen grinned. “Oh! I can be your assistant!”

As soon as the words were out of Smokescreen’s mouth, any remaining banter Knock Out held died in his intake. He turned, busying himself with a crate of welding patches, half of which were rotting away with rust decay. 

“I’m not looking for an apprentice,” Knock Out muttered. “Better ask Ratchet.”

Smokescreen let out a soft grumble but didn’t press further. He may not know the source of Knock Out’s shift in tone, but the kid knew how to take the hint and- most of the time -knew when to keep his intake shut. That much Knock Out could appreciate out of the young, rash speedster. It's what made Smokescreen a marginal step above the rest of the Autobots, at least by Knock Out’s records. 

It’s not that his time with the Autobots had been entirely bad. Despite his short stint in the brig, they had been painfully cordial with Knock Out since taking him in. With Ratchet deciding to stay on that horrible dust and rust planet, their need for a medic superseded any ill feelings towards him. They were still there; the distrustful looks from Arcee and the downright obstinance from Wheeljack. It still beat whatever awkward friendliness that Bumblebee attempted to broach with him or the downright militant authority Ultra Magnus made every interaction. None of these were as bad as Bulkhead, who opted for the worst option: sympathy. 

It had taken the ex-wrecker less than one solar cycle to corner Knock Out in the halls of their new headquarters to…to… apologize? Sympathize?

“I’m sorry about Breakdown. ‘Know you guys were close and-”

Knock Out hadn’t let it go any further than that. He had cut Bulkhead down with a sharp smile and deadly thank you. Bulkhead didn’t have the mettle to bring it up again and quite frankly, Knock Out was fine with that. He was tired of the pitying glances and somber looks. 

Smokescreen was the only one to act as if nothing had happened. Then again, Smokescreen was the only one that had never known Breakdown, only catching a few glimpses of the walking puppet he had become. It was perhaps the only reason Knock Out could tolerate the younger bot. 

“So,” Smokescreen started again, “medical device or torture equipment?”

Knock Out turned to see the speedster holding up a rusted to scrap Energon Infusor. “Depends on whose servos it’s in.”

It was a rather basic device, used to give localized shots of med-grade energon to a damaged site in order to jumpstart self repair. It looked more dangerous than it was to the untrained optic, appearing not too dissimilar to a rudimentary blaster.

Smokescreen snorted a small laugh, gently setting the instrument back into the box. “Right, figure in yours it’d be both.”

Smokescreen also wasn’t afraid to be blunt with Knock Out and go tit for tat. Knock Out found he far preferred that over the wide optics and grim expressions every time Knock Out said anything. Smokescreen, as naive and innocent as he was, had a semblance of a sense of humor, even if it bordered on childish at times.

It took them nearly an entire solar cycle before they managed to clear off half the medbay and unearthed a set of doors on the other end. 

“Doctor’s quarters,” Smokescreen whistled impressed as the doors opened to reveal a large habsuite. “Lucky. It’s twice as big as mine.”

“Interesting choice of words, kid.”

“Not like that!” Smokescreen yelped. “The room is just big. Scrap, even Bee’s isn’t that big.”

Knock Out was tempted to tease the speedster about how he knew the details of their new leader’s hab but decided Smokescreen could embarrass himself enough on his own. Knock Out didn’t need to tease him much further, lest he ruin the only somewhat amicable relationship he had.

“It’s for multiple berths. All of the medical staff are supposed to rotate here between their shifts.”

“Oh,” Smokescreen murmured. “That would explain the two berths. Oh! What if you pushed them together into a mega-berth? That’d be pretty sick.”

Knock Out genuinely couldn’t keep the laugh in on that one, chuckling as the younger bot’s door wings fluttered in excitement, pleased by the positive reaction.

“Yes, I suppose I could do that.”

Most likely, he’d just leave it as is. The medical officer berths were already large enough, fitted for larger frames than his own sleek style. On the Nemesis it had been more than enough to fit himself and-

“Let’s call it here for today,” Knock Out suggested, turning pede and walking out. He could hear Smokescreen shuffling to catch up. “I’m sure Ultra Magnus, if not our dear leader, expects a detailed report.”

“Of all the garbage we found?” Smokescreen groaned. 

“Inventoried and categorized alphabetically too.”

Smokescreen just groaned louder as they headed towards the command center. 

—

Nights were quaint. Homey. Every evening refueling was done communally; all the remaining Autobots gathered in the open mess hall and, despite its great size, all squeezed together at one long table. Knock Out had not been surprised to learn their sense of family extended to even refuel schedules, but was a little shocked he was expected to do the same. Like a good newly-instated Autobot, he ducked his helm and stuck as far to the edge of the table as he could. 

This evening was no different. Knock Out watched with distaste as Wheeljack baited Smokescreen and Bumblebee with exaggerated tales of heroism. His booming voice reverberated in the otherwise empty hall, though no one seemed to mind. Bulkhead chimed in with equal bravado while Arcee rolled her optics with a small grin. Ultra Magnus hung close, scoffing at every inaccurate detail through sips of his energon but ultimately making no corrections. Knock Out kept himself as far away as he could, unfortunately still within audial range but distinctly alone. Aside from his brief report with Ultra Magnus on their less than ideal medicinal supply levels, the group had turned inward, leaving him alone. It suited Knock Out fine. It was just a simple reminder he would never really be one of them.

He sipped his energon in light, even intakes. The movement was more mechanical than for actual consumption. Knock Out had a distinct lack of hunger, despite his HUD showing him his fuel levels at all times. He maintained them as needed but the action always felt forced. 

Then again, everything felt forced. And it was exhausting to keep up appearances. Not that it mattered now, with all optics glued to Wheeljack. 

“We had our backs against the rubble. It was do or die,” Wheeljack boasted. “Bulkhead and his rescue team were still on their way and it was just me and Seaspray fighting for our lives.” 

Knock Out had heard about enough of this exaggerated, drawn out tale and stood from his seat. The medbay was calling, or more accurately the berth in the medic quarters. He passed the rest of the table; Acree looked up to watch him pass, the rest far too engrossed to pay him much notice... until Wheeljack caught sight of his glossy red finish. 

“Leaving the party so soon?” Wheeljack interrupted his own story. “I was getting to the good part with ol’ Breakdown.”

Knock Out froze, optics darting over to meet the self-proclaimed Wrecker. He couldn’t tell by the mech’s cocky smile if the gesture was supposed to be genuine or a biting snipe but Knock Out took it like a stab to his spark. 

No one, with the horrid exception of Bulkhead, had the gall to bring Breakdown’s name up to Knock Out. The entirety of the Autobots had been happy to forget he had ever existed. Knock Out had been fine with that and hadn't wanted the alternative. They didn’t know his partner and they never would. Knock Out didn’t want false sympathy and he didn’t want to share Breakdown’s memory with any of them. Breakdown…was his. No one else’s. They didn’t have the right to speak his name, the history to lay any claim to him, the years of pain and anguish and affection and companionship to ever speak of him.

And yet, Wheeljack did so with that smarmy smirk plastered across his faceplates, begging Knock Out to react.

Anger that had been coiling around his spark lashed out viciously, his denta bared in a vile snarl. 

“Keep his name out of your mouth or I’ll be happy to remove that glossa of yours.”

Instantly, the room turned cold. In his periphery, Knock Out could see both Arcee and Ultra Magnus brace themselves for a fight. Bulkhead put a servo on Wheeljack’s shoulder to pull him back. 

“Knock Out-“ Acree began but Wheeljack cut in. 

“What, Sweetspark?” Wheeljack grinned, ready for a fight. Keep your cool. He’s trying to egg you on. “Thought you’d be happy to hear old war stories about your buddy before he lost his helm and turned rogue-”

Knock Out had not seen the work Airachnid had done to Breakdown, only the product pieced back together by the vile humans. They hadn’t even bothered to properly patch up their shoddy welding job, displaying the slash scars like a mockery of the body they had found. Wheeljack couldn’t possibly have known Airchanid had literally chopped off Breakdown’s helm, but it still hit too close, still hurt too deep. 

“Don’t speak about things of which you do not know,” Knock Out threatened with a sharp hiss.

 Arcee stood up at his words, blaster ready at the draw. Knock Out narrowed his optics. Of course, the Autobots would stand for their own before him. Disgust rolled down his frame as he relaxed his strut. He turned his helm from Wheeljack and the rest of the Autobots who all watched him with silent worry. 

“Just make sure you tell it right,” Knock Out said, keeping his voice light and jovial, despite its cutting undertone. He needed to leave. Get out before he truly did something he’d regret. He was supposed to play the good Autobot. It was the only card left in his hand. “After all, I distinctly remember Breakdown knocking both your afts down.”

With that, Knock Out turned and walked out. As soon as the doors to the mess hall shut, he let the remaining composure drain from him. His servos curled into tight fists as rage burned through him. 

He wanted to scream and yell and rip anything that laid in his path. This was not what he wanted from life, not how he pictured his happy ending. He wasn’t supposed to be here with the Autobots, subjected to their distrust and scrutiny. He was supposed to be with his partner. Breakdown was supposed to be here with him, by his side. They were supposed to survive together. Always together, never apart. 

This wasn’t the future he had been promised, the life he had fought for.

Deep, aching loneliness ate away at his rage, leaving him hollow. Knock Out let his fists loosen as he scrubbed his faceplates tiredly. Quietly, he shuffled towards the medbay, through its clutter, to the rusted, dark sleep quarters. He fell into the nearest bed, trying not to think about how big and vast the berth felt, how it was never like that before, how it shouldn’t be like that, how it was never supposed to be like that. 

He had lost his patience for their jokes, their jests, the false sympathy and condescension concealed as kindness. He was tired. So fragging tired. 

But it didn’t matter. On the morrow, he would rise and continue forward. Grin and bear it.

There was no other choice.

—

Knock Out did not relish scouting duties any more than he did cleaning up the medbay. The only benefit was being able to spin his wheels and get out of the cramped confines of their newly re-established headquarters. It would have been even better if-

“How far out is this place, Mags?” Wheeljack’s obnoxious voice boomed over their shared comm link. Knock Out held back a sneer as the white and green vehicle sped up beside him. Behind, Bulkhead and Smokescreen followed close leaving Ultra Magnus in the front of their scouting convoy. 

“A little further,” came a short, curt response. Ultra Magnus truly was not one to waste words. 

“Where are we going?” Smokescreen chimed in, his tone doing little to hide his impatience. 

Ultra Magnus took a moment to answer, clearly displeased to be debriefing while on the road but deeming it necessary. 

“An old Decepticon stronghold. Long abandoned, probably right before the war took us off-world,” Ultra Magnus explained. “Arcee found it the other day and our mission is to sweep the building for information, supplies or anything else of importance.”

“Oh yippie,” Smokescreen grumbled. “Dumpster diving.”

Wheeljack and Bulkhead broke out into sniggering laughs while Ultra Magnus started a lengthy rant on the importance of maintaining proper stock of supplies. Knock Out blissfully tuned them out, lowering the channel until their voices were barely a whisper.

The empty wastes of Cybertron were anything but peaceful, but the quiet they offered was one that Knock Out found himself craving more with every cycle he spent with the Autobots. He didn’t want to be a part of their laughter, their banter, their happiness. Despite all they lost, they kept moving and Knock Out just couldn’t understand why. Or how. 

He was only pulled back from his thoughts as Ultra Magnus’s rear lights blinded him in their deep red glow, the hauler coming to a stop. Smokescreen, who had probably not been paying attention, came to a screeching halt just before crashing into their mission leader. He flipped out of his alt form with a slightly embarrassed look which only deepened as Wheeljack joined him, slapping a servo on the kid’s back with a laugh. Bulkhead knocked them both on the helm as Ultra Magnus scoffed at the display. No one paid Knock Out much mind as he came out of his alt and surveyed the building before him. 

“Quite the stronghold,” Bulkhead said, optics scanning the building with distaste. “‘Bet it's armed to the Pits.”

“We’re going to split into groups and take anything of value. Bulkhead and Wheeljack, I want you two combing through the armory and stockrooms. Take everything you can and we can sort through it later. Smokescreen, you are coming with me to the Command Center. I want to make sure any communication memos or intel haven’t been left behind. Knock Out, you’ll sweep the medbay. I’ll leave it to your expertise. Smokescreen will join you once we finish up in the Command Center. Everyone clear?”

Before anyone could speak up, Ultra Magnus’s comm went off. The old Leader of the Wreckers blinked as he checked his HUD. He held up a single digit as he began to walk away for a semblance of privacy. Knock Out heard him mutter a quiet, “Yes, Bumblebee?” before he went out of range. 

“Guess we’re on hold,” Knock Out hummed, optics scanning the others. “Anyone know any waiting games?”

Immediately, an air of tension was cast over the group. As much as they may play as if Knock Out was not present, it was difficult to ignore him. Knock Out would give it to Smokescreen though, the kid tried his might as he set about whistling a poor rendition of an Earth pop song, optics surveying the stronghold to avoid acknowledging the rest of the group. A few cycles had passed since Knock Out’s confrontation with Wheeljack but evidently it had left its mark. Bulkhead only cast him one pitying glance before settling beside Smokescreen, armor clamped down tight. 

Knock Out let out a quiet scoff and turned to walk off. A quiet cough had him stopping at once. 

“Hey, Red.” 

Knock Out didn’t even have a chance to pretend he hadn’t heard Wheeljack as a black servo clapped him on the shoulder. “A word?”

Knock Out narrowed his optics and gave a controlled nod of his helm, glossa pinched between his denta. Over Wheeljack’s shoulder, he could see Bulkhead pulling Smokescreen away, distracting the kid to give them a moment of privacy. Knock Out held back his sneer. 

“Look, about the other night,” Wheeljack started, voice low and lacking its usual bravado. “I know he is a sensitive topic for you.” Wheeljack couldn’t meet his optics, focusing on Knock Out’s shoulder tire instead. “‘Shouldn’t have brought him up. ‘Shouldn’t have egged you on. I was being kind of a crankshaft about it and it wasn’t right.”

There was a pause for silence. Knock Out didn’t take the opportunity to speak, watching as Wheeljack’s faceplates twitched. Clearly the wrecker wanted to be absolved of his guilt but Knock Out couldn’t find it in him to be charitable.

“I didn’t know y’all were like that. You know, partners and all. Like me and Bulk, I guess. ‘Surprised you didn’t leap across the table and clock me.”

“Believe me, the temptation is still there,” Knock Out hissed. 

Wheeljack let out a laugh, bitter and self-deprecating. He squeezed Knock Out's shoulder and Knock Out wanted nothing more than to slap it off, but he stayed his hand. “‘Wouldn’t blame you if you did.” Wheeljack let out a sigh, using his other hand to rub his optics. “Look, this is my fragged up way of sayin’ sorry, alright? I’ll keep his name out of my mouth. You’re one of us now and it ain’t right for me to treat you like you aren’t. I want us to be square. So…we good?”

No. 

“Peachy.”

Wheeljack didn’t look surprised by Knock Out’s less than keen response. Thankfully, he didn’t press, releasing Knock Out’s shoulder and taking a step back.

“Alright. Good. If…slag, if you ever want to talk about it. Well, Bulkhead’s always free and… I guess I am too.”

Knock Out couldn’t think of a worse act of torture, including getting hit by a literal train again. This conversation was already painful enough, he didn’t really need a repeat event to talk about his feelings. With slagging Bulkhead. He didn’t want to reminisce about the past, he didn’t want to share his memories. He wanted to move on. But for all the steps it felt like he was taking forward, tethered hooks would pull him right back and remind him: Breakdown is gone and you are all alone. 

Knock Out watched Wheeljack make his quiet retreat to Bulkhead and Smokescreen. Bulkhead raised both optic ridges which Wheeljack answered with a muted shrug. Knock Out had to avert his gaze as Bulkhead wound his arm around Wheeljack’s neck, bringing him in close.

The absence of Breakdown never felt more palpable than now. Knock Out swallowed the static build up in his intake and cast his eyes out to the waste and ruin of Cybertron, biding his time until Ultra Magnus returned. 

–

Knock Out had never been in a base quite like this Decepticon bunker. Clearly, it had been built in the midst of war, the layout haphazard and prioritizing security over functionality. Even getting in had been a hassle with its giant iron doors blocking the entrance. Ultra Magnus and Bulkhead had worked on the doors for nearly two breems before their commander finally conceded to Wheeljack’s suggestion of explosives. 

Thankfully, it had done the trick, as well as blowing up the remaining armaments that had somehow survived Cybertron’s death. Once the smoke cleared and Ultra Magnus deemed the facility safe for entry, their squad made their way through the rubble. 

It was a dismal, grim sight. Knock Out had seen this scenario thousands of times before on both Cybertron and his home city on Velocitron. Offlined and rusted away mechs lined the walls, crumbling blasters still held in their hands. Impact blasts and bullets riddled their chassis, their spilled energon staining the ground they died protecting. Their efforts wasted and their memories long forgotten. 

The youngest of their group winced and averted his gaze while the more seasoned veterans moved through without a second glance. Perhaps by habit or maybe ingrained programming, Knock Out scanned the deceased. 

His background processes cataloged their injuries and ventured estimates to the cause and time of their deaths. Knock Out ignored these readouts, more interested in a secondary scan that pulled up their Decepticon identification badges. He had been downloaded with the latest roster when onboarding the Nemesis per protocol but now found a sickening fascination in watching their status change from MIA to DECEASED. 

Knock Out felt the grim reminder of when he had watched Breakdown’s status change, though back then his scans had been confused by the parasite inhabiting his frame. Knock Out, in the privacy of his own hab and once Silas had stopped screaming, manually changed the status to DECEASED despite the program’s insistence his partner still lived. 

He was the last of the group to reach the end of the hall, his squad waiting patiently.

“‘You know any of them?” Smokescreen asked in tactless curiosity. 

Bulkhead and Wheeljack had both reached out to nudge him but Knock Out spoke first.

“No, I was stationed on Kalis before taking a position off-planet.” 

In truth, he and Breakdown had fled Cybertron and the war entirely, stealing a small cruiser and going planet-hoping for a few thousand years before joining back up with the Decepticons once again. But no one in their group needed those additional details. 

Ultra Magnus cleared his intake, drawing their attention. “We’ll split here. I’m sending you the building schematics from what the Iacon records held before the building was converted. Proceed with caution and alert our channel if you find anything.”

They all gave quiet nods and split. Wheeljack and Bulkhead took the diverting pathway to the right while Ultra Magnus pulled apart the doors to the command center for himself and Smokescreen to slip through. Left alone, Knock Out pulled up the blueprints.

The medbay was not centrally located. Knock Out was surprised when viewing the schematics that the medbay was in the lowest level, isolated to its own floor deep underground. It was atypical of what Knock Out had experienced throughout his tenure with the Decepticons. It wasn’t advisable, not when the medbay was one of the more crucial facilities in any base of operation. Knock Out skimmed through the rest of the floor plan, trying to find a reason for its isolation, but ultimately found none. The only silver lining was an elevator with the sole purpose of transport between the medbay and the main floor, bypassing the several floors between.

He took said lift down, marveling that it still worked. Then again, Bulkhead and Wheeljack had been working on reestablishing Iacon’s powergrid for a while now and it appears their hard work had paid off. Knock Out didn’t have the spark to thank them for their efforts, but he certainly didn’t mind the luxury of it all. He only questioned the structural integrity of the elevator halfway down but cast the thought away as quickly as it had come. Self-preservation held little important to him as of late and he didn’t want to think about the circumstances of that any further.

Knock Out expected a disaster upon entering the medbay. He expected it to be in a similar state as his own: filled to the brim with rust, dust and piles of scrap. He expected boxes of useless equipment and records of mechs no more. He even braced himself to find the entire level caved in and destroyed.

He was not expecting to find a graveyard. 

Dead, lifeless shells of armored plating and wires greeted Knock Out as he stepped off the lift. Lifeless optics greeted him, unmoving and ever watching. His optics scanned the room, and once again, his medical protocols scanned for signs of life even though Knock Out knew there had not been a living spark in here for vorns. 

Sure enough, his HUD flashed before him for visual feed findings. 21 mechs: all deceased, their status neatly updated as it identified over half of the mechs he had scanned. Before it could begin running through the initial visual diagnostic reports for each individual mech, Knock Out shut it down. There was no need for such extensive data. Not when it took only a mech with half a functioning processor to see these mechs had not fallen in battle or had come to their injuries; they had been sent here to be butchered. 

Each of the five medberths were lined up with deceased mechs in various states of disrepair. Disrepair may have been a gross understatement. Limbs were missing- amputated, not removed at the joint socket but sawed off haphazardly and violently. Quite a few had their chests and stomachs cracked open with hydraulic spreaders. On Earth, Knock Out had heard of a similar tool dubbed The Jaws of Life. In this case, it looked as if the tool had been the deadly finishing blow for the mechs on the slab. 

From their wounds, their internals spilled out in a sea of rotting energon and corrosive rust. In just a furtive glance, Knock Out saw several integral parts had been ripped out and removed. Most prominently, their t-cogs. 

Thick cables were used to strap the mechs to their slabs. One had tried to rip it off, dying with their hand enclosed around the restraint. Another seemed to have tried to wriggle out, the cable being pulled so tight it had begun to dent the armor plating, tearing into their frame. 

All this told Knock Out was these mechs had been alive at the time of their unfortunate surgeries and they surely perished during their operations. With enough energon loss and organ removal, it wouldn’t take long for them to offline. 

And those were just the mechs on the berths. Many were thrown to the floor, broken into pieces with their wires pouring from their severed corpses. One was missing a helm, which Knock Out looked across to find poised on one of the countertops, a dried pool of energon gluing it to the surface. Its optics had been surgically removed, mouth still agape and missing several sections of denta. 

It was not all that laid on the countertop. Clear acrylic containers lined the counters and shelving units, each filled with various Cybertronian parts: mismatched optics staring at all corners of the room, denta and glossa pressed together into its own monstrous smile, digits and wires tangled in knots. Whole arms and weapon systems were stacked in rusting piles, the energon from their detachment still staining the plating.

This was no medbay, never truly fitted to be one. It was a chop shop.

Knock Out had heard tales of such medbays before. Supplies were limited during times of war and scavenging was not unheard of, even in-house. When too many resources would be needed to save a life, it was sometimes more efficient to snuff them out and take what could be used to save another, more important, one. Clearly, the medic in charge here had not been adverse to such tactics. Judging by the vast supply of decaying parts scattered across the medbay, they may have even enjoyed the task. 

Clearly, it had not ended well, Knock Out thought as grayed white and red plating caught his optics. He trekked forward, stepping over crushed and dismembered frames to look down at what he wanted to assume was the CMO of this facility. A flight frame, somewhere between Starscream’s slight, angular build and Dreadwing’s bulkier, armored specs. This one now laid deceased, unseeing optics staring at the ceilings, intake crushed by the mech collapsed on top of them.

Knock Out leaned over to peer at the other mech, a tank-former with a giant, gaping hole in the center of their chest, right through the spark. Knock Out could see the exit wound. Whatever had pierced through had been serrated, the edges of the hole jagged and torn. It reminded Knock Out of his own rotary saw. In haste, it could leave quite the ghastly wound. 

Funny enough, the tank mech seemed to be mostly whole- aside from the hole through the chest. If anything, his plating was pristine. Mint condition for resale or repurpose. Perhaps this one had been a commander of sorts, then again, Knock Out would be a little surprised to see a grounder is a leadership position. 

Not that it had mattered all that much in the end. 

Knock Out knelt down beside the macabre pair, entangled for eternity- or until the Autobots got around to clearing out this bunker and leveling it to be reused for Cybertron’s reconstruction…but that didn’t have the same poeticism behind it. 

Then again, Knock Out was creating romantics out of naught. The medic and the brute, he had heard that tale before and couldn’t help apply it to the duo before him. At least these two had the good fortune to leave the mortal plane together. Some weren’t as lucky. 

With a sharp nudge, Knock Out managed to push the tank off the medic. It resulted in a horrid screech of metal on metal and a hefty crash as the tank fell to its side, curled beside the medic. In the dim light, the tank’s plating could almost be mistaken for blue, especially in contrast with the faded medic’s red.

Sticky, sharp static balled in his intake. Knock Out pulled from his crouch and took a step back. He shuttered his optics and took a deep, steadying intake. 

Breakdown was dead. His body was thrown from the Nemesis and rotting somewhere on Earth. His spark was now back with the Allspark. He was dead, gone. 

Knock Out needed to get that through his processor; to stop looking for his partner when he knew he was gone; to stop searching for a hope that he wasn’t alone; to stop chasing a non-existent ghost. 

Onlining his optics, Knock Out stared down at the tank. In truth, this mech and Breakdown looked nothing alike. Aside from the bulkiness of their frames, the similarities sharply declined.

Where Breakdown had been formatted with six heavy tread tires, this tank had thick tracks that compacted along his shoulders as opposed to being dispersed along the ligaments. Rather than Breakdown’s coppery orange faceplates, this mech’s was covered, leaving two slits for the optics to peer through. Even the coloration of their plating, that blue Knock Out had seen really giving way to a deep purplish sheen on black. It would take some reconstructive surgery to make them appear anything alike. 

Nothing a little paint wouldn’t fix. It wouldn’t even take much to reshape the abdominal plating. If I break the chest armor into six pieces, I can remold it to Breakdown's frame specs. The tracks would have to go but finding the right tires wouldn’t be too hard with all the parts available here-

Knock Out blinked, his frame stalling as he stopped that thought-tree sharply in its tracks. What the frag was he even thinking?

Creeping dread crawled across his plating, its sickly tentacles carrying a deathly chill. He had to avert his gaze in case those thoughts tried to branch again.

“Primus, what is this?”

Knock Out turned his helm to see Smokescreen standing at the threshold, digits gripping the frame of the elevator shaft opening. The young speedster’s optics were blown wide as he took in the violent sight. Panic and terror filled his optics as his processor slowly grasped the scene. 

Knock Out almost pitied the kid. A late bloomer into the war, he hadn’t seen much of the darker sides. He never saw the starvation, the infighting, the point where all hope was lost and morality had to step aside for survival. 

“Chop shop. Organ harvesting,” Knock Out hummed, his own spark still hammering heavily in his chest. “No longer operational. It seems our little grim reaper here met his match.” With a forced smirk, Knock Out added, “They never take it well when you tell them they are being scrapped for parts.”

“Really?” Smokescreen croaked, his voice weak and shaken. 

Knock Out raised an optic ridge. “It’s a joke, kid. They don’t usually tell-”

“No,” Smokescreen muttered, optics tracing along the walls of the medbay, “they really scrap living mechs for parts?”

Primus, the kid looked like he was about to purge his tanks. Knock Out stood up and approached. Softness…was not something he was accustomed to. Reassurance even less so. But the last thing he wanted to do was watch the little hero wannabe make an even bigger mess of this disaster zone. 

“War isn’t all battles and glory like your pals want you to think it is. There is very little time for celebration when you are trying to find enough energon to make it to the next battlefield or find enough parts to keep your partner whole.”

Smokescreen said nothing to this and simply bobbed his helm. Apparently, this scene was too much for him. 

“If you need to step outside, I can take care of this,” Knock Out lowered his voice. “I won’t be long. Everything here is rotting and broken.” It’d be a miracle if he could salvage anything.

Smokescreen gave another soft nod of his helm but didn’t move. Knock Out wondered if his joints were locked up.

“Did you ever have to do this?” Smokescreen asked quietly after a moment. 

“Do you want the truth?” Knock Out asked, cocking his helm to the side. 

Smokescreen gave one more muted nod, unable to meet his gaze. 

“Yes,” Knock Out whispered. “And worse.” He had cut open living mechs for parts; he had tortured and maimed prisoners in order to find precious resources just so he and Breakdown could make it a few more cycles; he had siphoned mechs of their precious energon just in the hopes of keeping Breakdown’s spark going. “Not that it did any good in the end,” Knock Out muttered, more to himself than to Smokescreen. Breakdown still perished despite every rotten thing Knock Out had done to keep him going and every terrible deed he’d done as an act of vengeance. In the end, it was for nothing.

“I’m sorry,” Smokescreen said quietly, a trembling servo reaching out to touch Knock Out arm. “It ain’t much, but I’m sorry.”

The instinctual urge to bat him away was quelled with the sickly hue crawling up the kid’s faceplates. 

“Go purge your tanks,” Knock Out waved off gently. “Maybe ‘medic’ isn’t your calling.”

Smokescreen gave him a wiry grin. “Just give me a second and I’ll be good.” But as soon as the words left his mouth, a shudder wracked through the racer’s body and he clapped a hand over his mouth. A moment passed before he let out a shaky exvent. “I take it you get used to the gore?”

“Most of the time,” Knock Out shrugged. “Cutting people open for a living will do that to you. Just take it easy. I won’t be long.”

Leaving Smokescreen at the threshold, Knock Out turned back to the room. He took a steady invent as he went back towards the center, trying to shake off the chill crawling over his plating. 

He avoided looking at the tank and medic in the center of the room, leaving his back to them as he searched through the chop shop. He grabbed a few tools that he thought he might be able to clear the rust from and snagged the datadrive from the medic’s console. It was brittle and probably a dud but the Autobots wouldn’t be able to say he hadn’t tried. He even managed to find a few patch kits that looked in adequate condition. 

He avoided taking any of the harvested parts. The Autobots would surely throw a fit if they knew where the materials had come from and even Knock Out could agree that they were not that desperate.

But…if it did turn to that, Knock Out knew where he could find the right parts.

Once he grabbed what he could, Knock Out wheeled out of the chop shop, grabbing Smokescreen and taking the lift back up to the rest of the base. All the while, he ignored the dead, blank stare of the tankformer’s corpse. 

[probablyasocialecologist]

A recent study has found it is currently “not feasible” for the global livestock industry to sequester enough carbon to cancel out its planet-warming emissions — and that policy efforts geared toward that goal may be deeply misguided. The study, which was published in the journal Nature Communications, shows that 135 gigatons — or 135 billion metric tons — of carbon would need to be returned to soils to balance out the amount of methane emitted annually by ruminants like cattle, sheep, bison, and goats. That would be an unthinkable task, said Peter Smith, a co-author of the study and Chair of Plant and Soil Science at the University of Aberdeen in the United Kingdom. 135 gigatons is roughly equal to all the carbon lost due to agriculture over the past 12,000 years. We could completely rewild much of the planet and still not quite get there. “It’s a nail in the coffin for the suggestion that carbon sequestration can offset the methane emissions” of livestock, Smith said. “The overblown claims by the livestock industry, that you don’t need to worry about anything because we’re sucking up all carbon, we’re doing a climate-positive job — that’s just bullshit.” 

[...]

That’s not to say that any use of cattle in agriculture is inherently problematic. Research has convincingly demonstrated that integrating ruminants into pastures and croplands really can help to sequester more CO2 in some circumstances. “Study after study after study after study has shown that one of very few agricultural systems that sequester carbon are pasturelands,” said Nicole Tautges, director of the Agroecology Program at the Michael Fields Agricultural Institute in East Troy, Wisconsin. However, as herds become more dense, methane and nitrous oxide emissions can quickly override the potential climate benefits. As Waginen University’s Corina E. van Middelaar, a co-author on the study, put it, “the emissions that you get from having more animals on that plot of land outweigh the additional carbon sequestration.” According to the Nature analysis, even the most ideal conditions can only support about one cow per hectare of land, about the average density of grazing animals in Europe. That figure was reached assuming cattle emit less than 100 pounds of methane annually on land with abundant carbon storage potential, conditions that “actually hardly exist,” van Middelaar said. The real world is likely to be much more unforgiving, with higher-emitting animals often raised on land with lower sequestration capacity. To make matters worse, it’s believed that most farmland can only store a finite amount of carbon — meaning even very well-managed pastures can max out their sequestration potential over time. At the same time, bad management decisions, like allowing cattle to overgraze or compact soil too much with their hooves, can easily reverse those gains. The inevitable conclusion, van Middelaar said, is that “we should move to systems with less animals to begin with.” Raising fewer ruminants would make it more possible to bring methane emissions and soil carbon levels into better balance, Smith said.

[jadedwoman]

You are [the kobold] and are a level 5 rogue

stats:

str-2

agi-5

int-3

(constitution check dc 10, rolled a 3+2 = 5 fail)

As you uncork the potion and drink it down, you feel yourself seem more agile, like it's easier to tiptoe around certain things and avoid failure

(+1 to agility)

However, when you finally finish the bottle, you feel something begin burning in your head, a desire to seek out treasure even more than you already wanted. This desire builds and builds, soft heavy breasts popping out onto your chest (for additional storage) as well as your cock sliding back in as a slit forms once more, further increasing your 'capacity' and as such, you now crave treasure more than just about anything else you could find, wanting to take even the biggest risks just for the chance of some reward

(-1 int as a result)

With the potion drank, and your form changed once again, you come to two more doors, one damp with the sound of running water from behind it just like before, and the other nondescript, just a normal door with a small pink accent to the frame

[girlactionfigure]

⚠️ IRAN PREPARES, HOME FRONT CHANGES, SPECIAL FORCES VIDEOS - Tuesday afternoon - events from Israel  

...‼️The United States detects preparations in Iran for a missile attack on Israel. (Amit Segal - Ch. 12)

⚠️HOME FRONT COMMAND.. as of today (Tuesday), at 14:00: added restrictions in new and wide areas throughout the country until Sat. Oct 5, 20:00.  The reason for this change is the item above.

.. Restriction on activities and gatherings: Carmel (Haifa and wide area), Wadi Ara, Menashe, Samaria (West Bank), Sharon (Central cities), Dan (Tel Aviv), Yarkon, Shefala (Beit Shemesh and wide area), Jerusalem (and wide area), and Shfela.

.. Educational activities can ONLY be held in a place where you can reach a protected space in time with capacity in case of an alert.

.. Gatherings and services can be held with a limit of up to 30 people in an open area and up to 300 people in closed spaces.

.. Workplaces can operate in a building or place where you can reach a protected space in time with capacity in case of an alert.

.. Infographic: https://IDFANC.activetrail.biz/ANC0110202493864

.. Police: The Israel Police is prepared to implement the directives of the Home Front Command to the general public, following the change in the defense policy in the last hour.  Civil discipline saves lives.

❗️PUBLIC ROSH HASHANA PRAYER EVENTS CANCELLED.. The impression is that this is a warning about a more specific and immediate event, not about a general escalation from Lebanon.

.. Mass hataras nedarim at the Hotel cancelled.

.. Event at the Sultan’s Pool cancelled.

.. The Rabbi of the Western Wall and Holy Places Rabbi Shmuel Rabinovitz calls on the public to take cautionand observe the mitzvah "and be very careful for your souls" - to obey the instructions of the Home Front Command and not to come to the Western Wall plaza tonight.

.. Message passed on to the Hasidim in Gur: Do not come today for prayers to the city. and prepare for the possibility that they will not be able to come to Jerusalem for the holiday.

▪️SPECIAL OPS.. Since the beginning of the war, the IDF has conducted dozens of targeted operations in areas near the border in southern Lebanon in order to dismantle Hezbollah’s terrorist capabilities and infrastructure.  The soldiers identified and breached underground access points near the border area, exposed extensive weapon caches, assembly areas for terrorist operative operations, and more. During these operations, the troops also collected valuable intelligence and methodically dismantled the weapons and compounds, including underground infrastructure and advanced weaponry of Iranian origin.

The troops also uncovered and destroyed underground infrastructure, struck thousands of targets and hundreds of weapons storage facilities, tons of explosives, and hundreds of living areas for operatives, command centers and more. 

Footage of IDF raids on terror targets in Lebanese territory: https://bit.ly/3ZLNw4x

Footage of the destruction of terrorist infrastructure in the area of the border: https://bit.ly/4gM9wCs

There are many more videos linked here -> https://t.me/idfofficial/10605

❗️TZAV 8.. IDF: In accordance with the situational assessment, the IDF is calling up four additional reserve (combat) brigades for operational missions in the northern arena. 

▪️AIR TRAVEL.. The airport is working as usual at the moment and there is no change in the airspace.

.. Israir is expected to operate flights using six leased planes over the holidays, to help maintain aviation continuity. 

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❗️IRAN MISSILE THREAT - Tuesday afternoon - events from Israel  

ISRAEL REALTIME - Connecting to Israel in Realtime

( VIDEO - Home Front advice for holiday synagogue service - make sure to know the path to a protected space, have enough time and capacity. And what about the children? )

⭕HEZBOLLAH JUST FIRED 4 LONG RANGE MISSILES AT TEL AVIV.. a few minutes ago - they missed, hitting the sea.  No alarms due to the wide miss.

‼️The United States detects preparations in Iran for a missile attack on Israel.  On this basis, Israel has raised Home Front restrictions in the center and Jerusalem areas.  

.. The Pentagon: Satellite images show that Iran has prepared a large number of ballistic missiles to attack Israel.

.. IDF reminds:  defenses are NOT perfect, you MUST follow Home Front commands and take shelter when instructed.

.. The US Embassy in Israel asked its employees to stay at home and be prepared to go to shelters.

.. British Foreign Secretary Lammy announced that Britain is negotiating with its Iranian counterparts and calls on that country to exercise restraint in the midst of growing tensions in the region.

.. Reuters: Oil prices jumped 3% amid reports that Iran is planning to attack Israel.

📌HOME FRONT COMMAND..  center, Tel Aviv and wide surrounding areas, Jerusalem and wide surrounding areas, Samaria

.. Educational activities can ONLY be held in a place where you can reach a protected space in time with capacity in case of an alert.

.. Gatherings and services can be held with a limit of up to 30 people in an open area and up to 300 people in closed spaces.

.. Workplaces can operate in a building or place where you can reach a protected space in time with capacity in case of an alert.

📌PUBLIC ROSH HASHANA PRAYER EVENTS CANCELLED..

.. Mass hataras nedarim at the Western Wall cancelled.

.. Event at the Sultan’s Pool cancelled.

.. The Rabbi of the Western Wall and Holy Places Rabbi Shmuel Rabinovitz: do not to come to the Western Wall plaza tonight.

.. Message to Hasidim in Gur: Do not come for prayers to the city. 

❗️SPORT EVENT CANCELLED - Soccer / Football between Beitar Yerushalayim and Maccabi Haifa.

🔹IDF spokesman: "Iranian firing on the State of Israel will have consequences - I will not say more than that."

🔹IDF spokesman Brigadier General Hagari: "IDF fighters found a "plan for the occupation of the Galilee" by Hezbollah terrorists in Lebanese territory.”

🔹US Central Command: 3 additional US aircraft squadrons are on their way to the area, and one of them has already arrived.

🔹The US continues to transfer military equipment non-stop to the region.  Huge military transport planes land in Jordan and Syria almost non-stop.

🔹Haifa Municipality: In light of the unusual security situation, the city council meeting scheduled for tonight is postponed.

🔹Russia to Israel: withdraw the troops from southern Lebanon immediately.

♦️ONGOING TARGETED ATTACKS in Lebanon cities.

♦️TARGETED ATTACK in Khan Yunis, Gaza on a vehicle.

♦️SYRIAN RADAR.. A radar position of Syria that attacked and destroyed a short time ago by the Air Force in southern Syria.

[gay-milton-quotes]

I'm Unpeeling Myself from Big Tech!

"Unpeeling" being any act you take that limits the amount of data a large tech corporation can gather from you, decreases your reliance on products of those corporations, or increases autonomy over your technology. I'm ripping the term from a line in this review by Joanna Nelius, where she writes, "People are looking for ways to peel their eyes from their smartphones like a layer of Elmer’s glue from their hand — to remove a part of themselves that really isn’t a part of themselves." It's different than "unplugging" because the goal isn't to go off the grid, or even to limit one's technology usage. The goal, instead, is to extract from the invasive, addictive, destructive capitalist vision a set of tools that are useful to YOU.

It started when I realized I don't need a smartphone. I've deleted most social media from my phone, and the stuff I still have I prefer to check on my laptop. Not all "dumb phones" (I hate this term) offer the same features, though, so I began to think on a granular level about what I need from a cell phone. Eg, not all "dumb phones" provide MMS, but my family lives 3k miles away. I wanna still talk in the groupchat.

On the more complex end, I write on my phone. I've been using Google Docs to move seamlessly from scribbled writing drafts on my phone to formatted, finished works on my computer since I was fourteen.

Except, Google Docs is useless now. I've been unable to use it since they lowered the storage capacity. The only other cloud storage writing thingy with similar functionality is Office 365, which sucks.

Could a dumb phone with a basic "notes" feature work? Maybe, but I'd have to re-type everything to get it into a formatted document. Ideally, I'd have like, a mini-laptop just for writing - something I could fit in my pocket or in a small bag, so I could bring it to work without looking like a dick - and then, in addition, a basic phone for calls/texts/GPS stuff. But does a device this specific to my use case even exist?

Yes. Yes it does.

This is a GPD Micro PC. GPD mainly sells handheld gaming machines, though this product is designed for mobile IT professionals. It's probably too chonky for a pocket, but mark my words, I will figure out how to make it work for me.

It's stupid, but this gave me a rush. I've been struggling along, tied to the bloated corpses of three gmail accounts, for years, because I needed Google Docs for my writing workflow. But now I don't. I have the power to actually tailor my tech for my life.

By this point, I was like, alright, I don't need Google Docs anymore, I don't need a smartphone, what else? Do I need Windows? No, probably not, right? I can use Linux Mint on this new guy, especially since he'll mostly be a basic writing machine. LibreOffice is less intrusive and bloated than MS Word - a better experience for free than I'd have from the paid program. If I go all the way and install Linux, I also won't have to deal with ads in my start menu, or pre-installed spyware screenshotting my activities.

In fact, if I back everything up on an external drive, I can delete my old Google Drives and switch my main computer to Linux, too! So, I finally bit the bullet and invested in an external hard drive.

This is the problem with "product ecosystems," by the way. When one part of that ecosystem - Google Docs - fails, the whole thing collapses. All the bloat and corruption you dealt with just stops being worth it, and it's easier to make a radical change to a new system. I witnessed something similar happen with comedy tech youtuber Dankpods earlier this year, except with Apple's ecosystem: he was a lifetime Apple guy - seemingly not in a worship way, but he liked their products, and was certainly in Apple's ecosystem. Then a couple things went sour for him, and now he runs Linux.

I'm doing this for personal and ideological reasons. I'm personally sick of Clippy - I mean, Copilot - peeping in to tell me how to write what I'm writing on Office 365. I abhor the idea of paying Google for a service they offered for free until recently, knowing they can flip the script at any point. And while we're talking ideology, I'm a communist, and even though this is far from a shift everyone can make, I believe that taking any available steps towards shutting Big Tech out of our lives is a net good. If all you can do is delete Instagram, or use a screentime tracker, or switch to Firefox, do it. I'm finally in a position to make this more drastic change, and I'm excited.

Get in the weeds about how you use technology. Do you need everything at your fingertips, all the time? If not, what, specifically, do you need? Is there a way that you, now or in the future, can trim out the parts you dislike? And what can you change now?

[reasonsforhope]

"India’s announcement that it aims to reach net zero emissions by 2070 and to meet fifty percent of its electricity requirements from renewable energy sources by 2030 is a hugely significant moment for the global fight against climate change. India is pioneering a new model of economic development that could avoid the carbon-intensive approaches that many countries have pursued in the past – and provide a blueprint for other developing economies.

The scale of transformation in India is stunning. Its economic growth has been among the highest in the world over the past two decades, lifting of millions of people out of poverty. Every year, India adds a city the size of London to its urban population, involving vast construction of new buildings, factories and transportation networks. Coal and oil have so far served as bedrocks of India’s industrial growth and modernisation, giving a rising number of Indian people access to modern energy services. This includes adding new electricity connections for 50 million citizens each year over the past decade. 

The rapid growth in fossil energy consumption has also meant India’s annual CO2 emissions have risen to become the third highest in the world. However, India’s CO2 emissions per person put it near the bottom of the world’s emitters, and they are lower still if you consider historical emissions per person. The same is true of energy consumption: the average household in India consumes a tenth as much electricity as the average household in the United States.  

India’s sheer size and its huge scope for growth means that its energy demand is set to grow by more than that of any other country in the coming decades. In a pathway to net zero emissions by 2070, we estimate that most of the growth in energy demand this decade would already have to be met with low-carbon energy sources. It therefore makes sense that Prime Minister Narendra Modi has announced more ambitious targets for 2030, including installing 500 gigawatts of renewable energy capacity, reducing the emissions intensity of its economy by 45%, and reducing a billion tonnes of CO2. 

These targets are formidable, but the good news is that the clean energy transition in India is already well underway. It has overachieved its commitment made at COP 21- Paris Summit [a.k.a. 2015, at the same conference that produced the Paris Agreement] by already meeting 40% of its power capacity from non-fossil fuels- almost nine years ahead of its commitment, and the share of solar and wind in India’s energy mix have grown phenomenally. Owing to technological developments, steady policy support, and a vibrant private sector, solar power plants are cheaper to build than coal ones. Renewable electricity is growing at a faster rate in India than any other major economy, with new capacity additions on track to double by 2026...

Subsidies for petrol and diesel were removed in the early 2010s, and subsidies for electric vehicles were introduced in 2019. India’s robust energy efficiency programme has been successful in reducing energy use and emissions from buildings, transport and major industries. Government efforts to provide millions of households with fuel gas for cooking and heating are enabling a steady transition away from the use of traditional biomass such as burning wood. India is also laying the groundwork to scale up important emerging technologies such as hydrogen, battery storage, and low-carbon steel, cement and fertilisers..."

-via IEA (International Energy Agency), January 10, 2022

Note: And since that's a little old, here's an update to show that progress is still going strong:

-via Economic Times: EnergyWorld, March 10, 2023

[andmaybegayer]

My parents have installed an 8kWh battery backup because frankly it sucks not to have power 4-8 hours a day. Pretty much everyone in South Africa who can afford one is installing one! But it's really stupendously expensive and it makes me think about how ridiculous the people suggesting that grid scale storage is viable are.

Look. I don't think we will never be able to do grid scale storage. There's lots of promising new battery and capacitor technologies. I give it decent odds that in the next century someone will develop a battery that rivals kerosene for cost per kWh of storage. But whenever we talk about tools for solving climate change I feel like a lot of people forget that it's a pretty imminent problem!

If I told you "hey, I know you're looking at that Toyota Corolla so you can drive to work. Well, I'm working on a flying car. It's going to be so much faster, and it'll cost the same amount as a Toyota Corolla, and I'll have it ready in a few months. Look, I've got this tiny scale model to show you that it's on the way, please give me the money you were going to spend on the Toyota Corolla and I'll give you a flying car when it's ready." you would laugh at me. Every single engineering project comes in over budget and over time, if it's finished at all. Scale models are nothing when you need to solve big problems. Everyone understands this with bridges, why do they not get it with gridscale storage.

Every day some guy says "hey look we built a sodium battery pack it took our lab six months to build 100kWh worth but we totally promise that we'll have mass production down by 2025 please don't think about whether you are designing a future grid heavily dependent on fossil fuel baseloads we'll have huge batteries by then look there's the one in Australia it stores literally seconds worth of grid capacity." and I feel like I'm going insane.

This is not a technology that is "ready to go" this is the shit we make fun of when a university PR department claims they've cured cancer (in mouse cells (in a culture ( with additional marker proteins (and killed the healthy cells too whoops))))

All the current climate change targets are aiming for things in 2050 and it feels like gridscale storage gets used as an easy excuse for politicians who don't want to explain why they're making a grid that happens to be completely reliant on fossil fuels. They just go "oh we're investing in renewable technologies ;)" while sheepishly standing in front of the gas pipelines.

They might not even be industry shills! Some of them are but I think some of them are genuinely taken in by the renewables grift. They see the endless fields of wind farms when they visit the German countryside or whatever and think wow :) renewables really work :) we're going to fix climate change :) and have never understood an eqCO2/kWh value in their life.

People reporting on SMR and renewables say things like "Nuclear is too expensive and impractical compared to wind and solar which is why we're not investing in it" but that's only true if you believe you can run a grid on wind and solar alone! Otherwise you have to say the quiet "and hundreds of gas turbines with fuel storage on standby" part out loud.

[wonderhecko]

im particularly mad we dont have any legislation around the straight up lies of printers, hard drives, batteries, etc. if there is an percentage given (ink remaining, usable storage, charge remaining) it must match the actual levels or an easily seen/understood tooltip or something must be given to explain the reason for reserves. for a company to straight up tell you a cartridge is too low to print then immediately be proven wrong when direct control is taken and not be put before congress??? what are we doing!

in addition, it used to be that companies would fudge the storage capacity the simple ways, underestimate actual usage, list "300 songs" followed by "if theyre midis" on mp3 players but now they simply removed expandable storage for our most used devices and charge a subscription fee for online storage (wherein everything uploaded is scanned and used in arcane data harvesting / machine training). in gaming, theres more anti-consumer complexity as games balloon in file size and ownership is being stolen. a game you purchased with 150 gigglebytes and temporarily deleted to make room for the quadruple-A game with 350 gigglebytes may no longer be there when you go to retrieve it. you only purchased a temporary license that is able to be revoked at any moment. a physical disc is hedging closer and closer to this as time goes on and consumers happily accept everything a company does to them if it means more franchise entries, more convenience. the disc is becoming a plastic digital license that is just as revocable

[tgrailwar-zero]

(holding the scraps of Chaotic Heroic Act 3, contemplatively)

Egh... hey, ah, Empress Nero... if we, uh...

... if we found a... really grim portent...

... when would be a good time to ruin the mood?

Asking cuz I think we found Act 3, and it's rather...

There was a short moment of silence as NERO read, and then as it was passed around to the others to read. Eventually, it found its way back to Nero.

CONSTANTINE placed a hand on her shoulder, with a worried look.

CONSTANTINE: "…Antecessor Nero…"

NERO shook her head, folding it up and casually sticking it within her bosom for storage. MUSASHI whistled. CONSTANTINE frowned.

CONSTANTINE: "Antecessor Nero."

NERO: "Do not worry for me. I am well. An Emperor knows better than to cry around her peers. I will say this- I won't forgive that Titan. I will not be satisfied until I am victorious..."

With that statement, it seemed as if the air changed from quiet contemplation to tactical plotting incredibly quickly.

NERO: "Let us see… a Rider, a Caster, a Saber, a Foreigner, and an Avenger… and of course, whatever you are, my Ensemble. Perhaps you're the key, as you were the gestalt necro-weapon born from the Moon, and presumably one of the Titan's thralls. I'd hope so, as I do not believe we have the firepower ourselves."

She began, with a stately tone.

KUKULKAN: "Nothing's changed then! We protect the Masters with everything we have!"

MUSASHI: "So, the goal is simple. Gain the permission to leave from the Lair Servants, and then reach the Moon, and then win."

AVENGER: "They'll will need to pass Saber first. With that being the case, would that not mean that Saber's alliance is with the former 'Interlopers', rather than the current? Making him an enemy of the Solar Cell, and a prospective pawn of the White Titan?"

The Avenger's voice rumbled and echoed throughout the camp, causing the campfire itself to shudder as his shadowed form grew slightly more tangible.

CONSTANTINE: "…Right. That White Program… and what was happening to those Valkyrie..."

MUSASHI: "That, in addition to Saber and Caster going at each other's throats… if I didn't know any better, I'd think there's a storm on the horizon��"

AVENGER: "The War is over, so attention must be shifting elsewhere."

MUSASHI: "Yeah, I got that from my source too. Let's scratch everything- forget red versus blue, we're dealing with four potential factions."

KUKULKAN: "Right. First, the Lair Servants- Servants that have been summoned to the Solar Cell. We'll say that their 'Master' is the 'Heavenly Divinity' that everyone keeps going on about, though who knows how their contract works. Let's call them the 'Keepers of the Solar Cell', for simplicity. Or the Sun Buddies, maybe? That's cute, yes?"

NERO: "Of course, there are Servants like you, Lady Musashi. Rogue entities that have the capacity to join our cause."

KUKULKAN: "Saber has the Origins of… what was it? Berserker, Rider, Foreigner, and… Caster? And Lancer is a Lair Servant now, so that means… potentially Assassin and Archer, yes? Those are the only ones left?"

AVENGER: "In the case that they're alive and can be reasoned with anyhow…"

NERO: "Or their Spirit Origins haven't been altered, or used to summon a new Servant. We can't assume that trick can only belong to the Masters."

CONSTANTINE: "Then, there are the now rogue Servants from the War. Chances are that most of them are gone, faded away without any sort of Mana Regeneration or Independent Action skill, unless they're being very careful about the souls they're stealing for mana- enough so that they don't get slaughtered by the local Lair Servant. Let's… assume that means at the very minimum, the Red Archer remains… and pray that I'm proven wrong."

KUKULKAN: "…And finally, Saber. Visiting his city, I don't think mana resources is a problem, yes? And he has claimed two major territories. The Hamlet alone had very good leylines thanks to Doctor Asclepius… if he was smart, he'd turn that place into a battery, yes? It's not as if there are people there to oppose any terraforming."

CONSTANTINE: "To clarify- four factions. The Keepers of the Solar Cell--"

MUSASHI: "--Sun Buddies. I like what Kuku said."

CONSTANTINE: "…Keepers of the Solar Cell, then King Charlemagne's Army, Rogue Servants drifting around from the prior wars, and us."

NERO: "Lots to think about… ugh, my migraine is coming back. I'm going to retire to my chambers. Go team, and all that."

With that, she clutched her head and stumbled off to her own tent.

MUSASHI: "...Sheesh... she knows she doesn't have to try and keep it together for us, right?"

CONSTANTINE: "Pride is important to an Emperor. Still... she has a point. This is a lot to take in. Resting our eyes and our minds for at least a little while is probably the best course."

With that, you watched as the camp grew more and more silent as each Servant vanished off to their respective quarters, leaving you alone in the night air for a moment.