#dimensional calibration

[royalreef]

(( Hi. Can you tell I've been working on merfolk language again.

[qsmetrologyprivatelimited]

Imaging Solutions

[flwrkid14]

Tim Drake Does Not Believe in Ghosts

Which is a problem because his boyfriend is a ghost. Or, at least, that’s what Danny keeps trying to explain to him.

Tim isn’t dismissive—he’s fascinated by Danny’s abilities and origin story. But ghosts as in “the dead-but-not-gone spirits of human beings”? That just doesn’t register for him. Tim has met aliens, time travelers, and gods alike, but actual ghosts feel like a line too far for his rational mind.

“It’s probably a dimensional thing,” Tim muses one night while calibrating a piece of ectoplasm-sensitive tech. “You’re a type of interdimensional entity made of ectoplasmic energy, and your world calls them ghosts because it’s a good linguistic match. Makes sense.”

Danny stares at him from his spot on the couch, one eyebrow twitching. “Tim, I’m literally dead.”

Tim pauses, turning his chair to face Danny. “Okay, but… not really, right? Because you’re still here. Like, functioning. Alive-ish. It's more likely that the portal exposure altered your molecular structure and tethered your consciousness to an ectoplasmic state. That doesn’t make you a ghost, Danny. It makes you… a transdimensional being, maybe?”

Danny sighs, sitting up and dragging his hands through his hair. “Tim, I died. My heart stopped. My body turned into ectoplasm. And now I’m stuck between being alive and… not.”

Tim’s expression softens as he sets the equipment down. “I’m not trying to invalidate what happened to you, Danny,” he says gently. “I just think you’re reshaping what it means to exist. ‘Ghost’ feels like the wrong word for someone as... tangible as you. You’re not some lingering spirit—you’re real. You’re you.”

Danny blinks at him, caught off guard. “Well... that’s kinda sweet, but it’s also wrong. I’m literally the definition of a ghost. I haunt places. I make ghost noises.”

“Sure, Danny,” Tim says, with a small, indulgent smile that sends Danny spiraling between affection and frustration. He reaches over to squeeze Danny’s knee. “You’re definitely a ghost.”

Danny groans, flopping back onto the couch. “You’re impossible.”

“I’m practical,” Tim corrects, leaning back in his chair.

“No, you’re dense.”

It’s not like Danny hasn’t tried to convince him. He’s gone intangible mid-conversation, flown through walls, and even pulled out his ghostly wail—though he only did that because Bruce was safely out of earshot. None of it works. Tim just treats it all like a fascinating science experiment instead of proof that Danny is, in fact, dead.

“Tim, what will it take for you to admit that ghosts are real?” Danny grumbles, covering his face with a pillow.

Tim hums, thoughtful. “I don’t know. Hard evidence? Like a case study? Maybe letting me run some tests?”

Danny lifts the pillow just enough to glare at him. “You are the case study!”

Tim gives him an easy smile. “Exactly. And the results are inconclusive.”

He’s still annoyed, but… well, maybe having a boyfriend who insists on understanding everything isn’t the worst thing in the world.

At least Tim cares enough to try. Even if he’s completely, utterly wrong.

[dramadramallama]

Final thoughts and trying to organize my feelings around Heesu In Class 2.

It truly felt like a "regular," quality kdrama, except for one thing. One very important thing: two of the main characters are gay, and endgame. Like, I don't think we realize how unthinkable a (mainstream) Korean show like this was, just two or three years ago.

It might not be 100% faithful to the source material but it is 100% faithful to the story it sets out to tell. It had a clear direction from the start, hit the mark several times, and never lost sight of that finish line: @lurkingshan and @twig-tea put it very succinctly and pertinently when they said the drama had, respectively, "a legible narrative" and was "carefully calibrated."

On top of that, it has a great re-watch value with a lot of blink and you'll-miss-it details, and beautiful direction. A lot of care went into how the scenes are set up and shot and it shows.

I completely understand that some people might prefer a drama with a different, more "targeted" focus (i.e literally everything converging towards Hee-su narratively) but that doesn't mean anything else is automatically wrong/bad. I feel like you can find that elsewhere so easily; it's just not that kind of story. I also think it's such a restrictive way of looking at things... Gay romance does not need to be locked in the confines of your average BL. I don't want to watch the same arbitrary BL tropes being applied like it's the law. How boring. We finally have a high budget, high quality Korean drama with—I cannot stress this enough—A GAY TITLE CHARACTER that gets the same treatment a straight coming of age romance kdrama would... and I, for one, am delighted in, and celebrate the creative liberties they took. It was a risk, but it paid off.

It only feels like other characters take "too much space/time" away from Seung-won and Hee-su than they actually do because 1. the show has a longer runtime, and more episodes and 2. the show does not follow the "classic" boys love formula. Hee-su does not exist in a bubble where everything that happens happens only TO HIM. However what happens around him definitely serves to highlight his struggles, his fears, or his emotions in general. I'd go even further and say that not everything happening in relation to Hee-su has to be about Seung-won... Characters can exist outside of their love interests. It's one of the reasons the drama felt so well-rounded to me.

Hee-su is the hero of this drama, but the show does a wonderful job of reminding us the other characters are not NPCs, not puppets, not props. And they also are orbiting around their own centers, and that does not diminish Heesu's character or his relationship with Seung-won. In fact, the drama makes a point of underlining how extraordinary it is that they (tiny specks of stardust) could find each other (in the vastness of the universe).

I love metaphors and the cosmic theme threaded through the episodes was just the cherry on top. I don't want to focus too much on the criticism I've read for the show but I will admit that most of what seemed to rub people the wrong way is actually what made it special to me.

Yes, we get more perspective from different points of view, and we get to see the other characters struggle and grow up too, but the drama never loses sight of, or erase Hee-su. It's more like the narrative sometimes switches to a broader lens, and we have access to a wider spectrum of colors. Everything (Hee-su included) gets to feel more three dimensional. When ep1 and 2 aired, I said the show felt "full" but maybe a better way to put it would be that it's not flat.

I can argue about it ad nauseam, but the matter of the fact is Hee-su is The Main Character, and he's GAY, very GAY, and it's his story and his struggles being told. The actors did a wonderful job and made me feel so much. And it ends well!

It was lovely.

[unclegrumbles]

ULTIMATE DANNY PHANTOM

SKULKER

Psychic screams of humans and animals alike ripple though the dimensional fabric separating Earth from the Zero Space. These echoes capture the emotional state of their source in that moment. While the resulting organism may bear some resemblance to its originator, it is typically singularly fixated on the circumstances of its creation. The Lunch Lady, for example, is trapped in a moment of cold despair and loneliness. Aragon was born of the collective fear of an entire kingdom. But Skulker is a different type of ghost entirely.

History is filled with hunters. The concept of The Hunt is so ingrained in human consciousness it has manifested countless times in our collective mythologies, from Artemis to Wepwawet to Bhadra, and even more that have been lost to time. Yet the idea that The Hunt could manifest into a single entity does not rest in the realm of fantasy alone. Just as animals and humans hunt in the mortal realm, so too do their echoes hunt in Zero Space. Over time, one of these echoes learned to absorb the essence of its prey. To best the myriad dangerous beasts which stalked the astral plane of the Ghost Zone, this echo targeted its fellow hunters, taking their skills and knowledge for itself. Centuries passed. Then millennia. In time, any echo with enough sense to feel fear learned to fear Skulker, the Ghost Zone’s greatest hunter.

Skulker was so infamous in the Ghost Zone that he could even wield his own notoriety as a weapon. His reputation engendered rumors and legends about his appearance, none of which bore any resemblance to Skulker’s true form – a diminutive green blob with wiry arms and legs. Skulker often hunted with cunning strategy and traps, but some prey were too powerful or cunning themselves to be defeated in this way. To compensate for his physical limitations, Skulker contracted with the enigmatic and ingenious Armorers to construct an advanced armored exoskeleton. The towering robotic shell allowed the tiny ghost to more than live up to his legend.

When a new authority figure rose to prominence in Zero Space seeking to impose order on the inherently chaotic nature of the ethereal realm, Skulker found freedom in the form of a mysterious benefactor. Not only would the job pay well, but Skulker would be granted the most coveted prize of all – a one way ticket back to Earth. And all he had to do in exchange was stand back and watch a human teenage boy and his two closest friends.

Powers and Abilities

Robotic Exosuit: Smelted in the incomparable heat of pyroplastic forges, the metallic alloys of Skulker’s suit are invulnerable to all but the strongest of mankind’s ballistic ordinances. The ectoplasmic molecular structure of the alloy serves as a conductor for Skulker’s powers of intangibility, invisibility, and flight and also allows him to grapple with spectral entities that would otherwise phase through solid objects. The exosuit connects to Skulker’s mind via a system of neural receptors which translate the ghost’s mental stimuli to physical output. The suit is powered by an extremely efficient ectoplasmic generator – the very sort the Fentons aspired to create using ectoplasm harvested by their siphon. The suit’s generator can be jettisoned in the event of a catastrophic meltdown. The suit’s ectoplasm-powered hydraulic actuators enable Skulker to lift over ten tons.

Built-In Armaments: The suit’s right gauntlet houses a retractable Anti-Ghost (AG) Ray. The weapon fires a beam of energy calibrated to disrupt the molecular frequency of ghosts, causing immense pain and death if subject to prolonged exposure at full power. Skulker can fire this beam in wide concussive blasts or concentrate it into a precise cutting implement. On the left gauntlet is housed a retractable chainsaw weapon. The chainsaw is forged from the same metal as the suit, making it nigh-unbreakable and capable of shredding objects and creatures from the Ghost Zone and Earth alike. On the right shoulder, Skulker installed a Titan rocket pod of his own design which houses ten homing projectiles. On impact, or controlled detonation, each Titan rocket explodes with a powerful burst of AG energy equivalent to ten kilograms of TNT. In a pinch, Skulker’s entire chassis can be used as a weapon by flying it into objects or enemies at high speeds. He usually doesn’t do that on purpose. On his left shoulder, in lieu of a typical pauldron, Skulker has fastened the skull of one of his greatest hunts - that of the purple back gorilla.

Combat Skills: Skulker is a master of hand to hand combat, fighting with designed and improvised melee weapons, and is a crack shot with all manner of guns and bows. Few creatures between either Earth and the Void can match Skulker in a one-on-one fight. His sidearm of choice is a modified Chiappa Rhino which fires .50 cal AG rounds, and Skulker is never seen without his trusty combat knife. If the occasion calls for excessive force – or if Skulker is in the mood to deploy excessive force – his go-to weapon is the AG-920 railgun which magnetically propels a specialized AG-Tungsten projectile at hypersonic speeds. A single shot from the railgun penetrate subterranean concrete bunkers and level entire buildings. If Skulker has learned one lesson above all, it is that those who fight with honor are often the first to die. Skulker would be the first to admit he fights dirty – and credits that type of fighting to his longevity.

Adaptive Problem Solving: Skulker’s greatest weapon is his mind. Centuries of hunting the strange creatures of Zero Space, and absorbing fellow hunters, has expanded the ghost’s mind. Just as Skulker outwardly hungers for a good hunt, his mind hungers for knowledge. When not actively hunting, Skulker can be found in his lair reading anything he can get his gauntlets on – from Shakespearean literature to trashy romance novels to young adult adventure books and even lifestyle magazines legally purchased from authorized vendors stolen from grocery store checkout aisles.

---

During Skulker’s research on the three human children, Skulker made a surprising discovery. The latest hunter to join the Skulker composite was the echo of a man named Kevin. As the United States entered the Cold War with the Soviet Union after World War II, Kevin was climbing the ranks in a private military corporation (PMC). The PMC was contracted by the United States to conduct sabotage and target exfiltration missions in Soviet territory. His final mission failed in spectacular fashion due to faulty intelligence. Kevin and his entire squad were wiped out after a frantic gunfight that leveled an entire village and left many innocents dead. His remains were never recovered and the US disavowed any knowledge of his unit's activities in Soviet territory.

In life, Kevin was a skilled tracker. It was one of the traits that drew Skulker’s attention. Kevin's echo spent several years carrying on its originator's work - infiltrating, sabotaging, and destabilizing small hamlets and villages where ghosts had congregated in some semblance of their Earthly lives. Skulker was hired to bring this meddler to justice, dead or alive. Kevin's echo gave Skulker a run for his money, but it was defeated and assimilated like so many echoes before it.

Now on Earth, the ghost hunter’s research uncovered another trait of Kevin’s. The man died with no spouse and no children. But he did have a brother. Kevin’s pension with the PMC paid handsomely to his next of kin, and Izzy Manson would use that money to kick-start his toothpick-cellophane business, creating a legacy that would one day become the inheritance of Samantha Manson... Kevin’s – and now, Skulker’s – niece.

[lena-in-a-red-dress]

So. Lena as a stitch witch/thread mage. She spends multiple hours-long sessions with Kara's cape in her lap, her fingers slowly moving across the warp and weft, lingering every painstaking millimeter. Kara sees her do it, Lena tells her exactly what she's doing (imbuing the cloth with protection magicks) -- its not a secret by any means.

A couple months/years later, Lena develops the means for laypeople to see magic. (Think one of those magnifying ring lights that scientists and crafters use.) Kara thinks its dope that her girlfriend is so smart. But then she gets bored, and wanders into the lab alone to poke around. She's idly swishing her cape around her, as one does, until she pauses, recalling those days Lena spent with said swath of fabric.

Kara knows what magic looks like by now-- they've used it on a couple of magical items they've found around the city, trying to track down an unknown magic user. It looked like gentle ripples, undulating over the surface of the object.

As Kara takes a handful of her cape, drawing it towards the lens, she wonders what color Lena's magic is.

The fabric shines so bright under the magnifying glass that it sears Kara's retinas, temporarily blinding her.

"Mother of-- Rao!" Rearing back, she slaps her hands over her eyes, now watering, and tries to blink away the newly won shadows from her vision. "What the--"

"Kara?"

The sound of Lena's footsteps rushing to the lab draws Kara's attention.

"What happened--?"

"Jesus-- me being an idiot happened," Kara grumbles, blinking rapidly to try and focus on where Lena should be. All she sees is a large dark blotch. "Hey, what did you calibrate that thing with?"

"One of Nyxly's artifacts," Lena responds. Warm hands take Kara by the elbows and guide her over to a nearby stool. "I wanted to be able to distinguish between fifth dimensional energy and true magic. Here, can you follow my finger?"

"What finger?" Kara quips. The blotch is already beginning to shrink by a fraction, assuring Kara that the damage to her vision isn't permanent. Her mind spiralled.

Nyxly had had magic unlike the world had ever seen. More powerful than Mxy even. None of the artifacts they'd put under that lens had come anywhere close to producing even half that effect.

"Kara, will you please tell me what you were doing--"

"I wanted to see what your magic looked like," she says, bluntly. "My cape..."

"...oh." Lena's voice is quiet. "Yeah, that--"

"Probably wasn't the best idea. Clearly." Kara tries to grin, but she knows it probably comes up flat. "But my god, Lena..."

"Florence says I have an affinity for magic. Like my mother."

"This," Kara gestures towards her eyes, "is more than an affinity."

She hears Lena swallow. "Please don't be scared. I would never do anything to hurt--"

"Scared? Lena, I'm-- I'm in awe of you."

A beat of silence follows, before Lena's hands settle in hers. "Please don't be that either. I'm just me."

Kara blinks, and smiles towards the hazy silhouette of Lena's hair, in its usual gentle waves. She tugs Lena closer, until Lena relaxes towards her and lets her forehead rest on Kara's.

"Just you is amazing."

[axolotls-compass]

The Pilot

The Whip of Cijo Chapter 2

< Prev First AO3 Next >

Lola leaped up the ladder, opening the ceiling hatch effortlessly. Soaring through zero gravity, she kicked off the wall, propelling herself to the sink. Despite the blackout, there was still pressure in the water distribution system, so when she turned it on, the water drifted towards the drain. It gathered itself into a ball on its way, no gravity to rush its descent. She splashed it to her face, swallowing the liquid straight from the air.

As soon as she was certain she wouldn't vomit again, Lola's attention shifted to the kitchen's viewport wall, the only window in The Whip of Cijo. “Zrd…” A smaller white and blue ship floated in the void just beyond the glass, a smashed wreck with parts strewn around it. The cockpit appeared to be in particularly bad shape, fragments of transparent metal floating in a cloud around a lone body. “So that's what hit us,” Lola muttered, attempting to fill the void left by Seb's chatter. How was this even possible? That ship had come out of nowhere. It couldn't have been in an intersecting Hyperlane, that wasn't possible. The lanes would have collapsed long before the two ships collided. Perhaps it had already fallen out of a Hyperlane then, stayed in the fourth-dimensional abyss, then entered hers? The odds of that were virtually zero. Starting to panic, Lola tried to calm herself. Breathe, Lola. Breathe. In, and out. In, and out. “We're gonna be okay,” she told herself. “We are okay.” Although she wasn't entirely calm, Lola had returned from panic. This is when most people would transmit a distress signal, but Lola was smuggling Killakords of Vistro oil in one of her fuel tanks. Any rescue would come from the Titan Alliance of War-Opposed Systems, who'd impound her ship and throw her in jail. “Alright. First things first, we'd better head down to the engines and see if the ship can't restart herself. We should grab the EAK and our pistol too, just in case.” Yes, thought Lola. This was a plan. A good, logical plan, because she definitely wasn't panicking.   Guiding herself through zero-g, Lola left the kitchen, floating back down the ladder head-first. Back in the rec room, which doubled as the bridge, she pushed herself through the swirling pasta over to the main control console. Prying open a panel, she seized the Emergency Access Key, which would provide power for simple functions as well as system-wide administrative privileges. Grabbing the top of the console, Lola pulled herself into a mock standing position. She pinched a stray pasta noodle from her hair, tossing it aside, past where Seb lay powerless on the wall behind the couch. Originally, Lola hung Seb over the piloting interface, but he'd complained until she moved him behind the couch, where he could see the interface that often doubled as their TV.

How dare he leave her to deal with this on her own. Lola reached out to grab the fish, pulling him up and away from the wall, revealing the pistol hidden behind his plaque. She grabbed the gun, before returning him to his original position and heading to another hatch in the ship's floor. As she descended the ladder into the low-ceilinged maintenance hallway, Lola eyed her Exosuit, mounted to the wall by the airlock. She put it on, more for the feeling of safety it provided her with than anything. Opening up the engine room, she activated the small diagnostic panel with the Emergency Access Key. The panel lit up, showing her that the Vistro oil she'd been smuggling in one fuel tank had burnt up and spread to the other fuel tank. Lola held her breath, knowing the internal filter was overdue for inspection. She turned it on, powering the system with the remaining power in the ship's backup battery, watching the panel's response. FUEL FILTRATION PROTOCOL   PROGRESS:   CALIBRATING   CALIBRATING   CALIBRATION COMPLETE! FUEL PURITY: 2% 4% 5% When the numbers continued to rise, Lola exhaled, taking comfort in the noisy hum of the filter. Soon, she'd be able to reactivate her ship's main system. The sound of an explosion interrupted the filter's hum, which turned to a menacing buzz. Lola shut it off immediately. She cursed herself for being so careless with her ship, then cursed again, deciding that the situation wasn't her fault. Now, her only option was to move the pure fuel over to one tank and jettison the rest. Without the filtration system, she'd have to go outside her ship with a fuel cord and manually connect the tanks. Lola promised herself that If she ever got a new ship, it would have a power core instead of relying on crystal-based fuel.

After grabbing the spare fuel cord, Lola opened the airlock door with the EAK, bracing for the most terrifying spacewalk of her career. Once inside, Lola tethered herself to a handle, even though it was probably overkill. The suit's electromagnets were more than capable of keeping her moored to the ship, but after all of today's random accidents, she wasn't taking any chances. She couldn't depressurize the airlock, needing to save the last bits of power in the key for re-entry, so she held onto the handle, both hands squeezed aggressively over the knotted tether. Air rushed out as the door opened, the room vacuuming. Lola realized that she'd once again been holding her breath. She began to exhale, but stopped, a message appearing on her visor. SHORT RANGE SOS DETECTED She expanded the popup with a thought, viewing the full message. Short-range radio signal [SOS] Message in Ternary code Language UNIDENTIFIED Translating… Translation Acceptable Message: This is a short-range help beacon message. If you are receiving this, you are likely aware of an EXTREME EVENT near you. This message is being transmitted from the Exosuit of COMMANDER D. WALKSKIN. WH: [ Ship: DISCONNECTED Occupant: ALIVE, INJURED Integrity: POOR, S2 BREACH Life support: EMERGENCY CRYOGENIC FREEZING ACTIVE ] MESSAGE END This… complicated things. Now that she knew the pilot was alive, Lola felt she should help them, though a bigger part of her wanted to ignore the message and leave them. Derelict military vessels and unidentified languages reeked of the Titans, and Lola didn't want to prove her family right by becoming involved with them. On top of that, Lola disliked both death and strangers. Maybe she should just fix her ship and fly away. No one would be the wiser. EXCESSIVE HEART RATE DETECTED. INITIATE BREATHING SEQUENCE? She was getting herself too worked up again. She closed the popup, preferring to guide her own breathing. Lola took a deep breath, breathing in, and out. In, and out. When she was able to function again, Lola decided to continue with the plan to fix her ship. Whether she decided to take the risk of rescuing the pilot or not, neither of them would be going anywhere if she couldn't fuel The Whip of Cijo. Lola turned her suit's electromagnets on, magnetizing the fuel cord to her back and her feet to the airlock floor. Carefully, Lola stepped out of the airlock onto the outer wall of her ship. There was no up or down in space, but It still disoriented Lola to be standing on a wall as if it were ground. The first fuel port, directly below the airlock, was in front of Lola. She popped open the fuel port and attached the cord. She walked the curved hull of her ship over to the other side but stopped before she reached the second fuel port, struck by the majesty of the now visible wreck. Shards of metal glittered in the starlight, creating an inappropriately beautiful scene. The wreck reminded Lola of a shattered geode, deemed a failure for falling to bits instead of slicing perfectly as it was expected to. Fragments of the once magnificent crystal drifted through the void, unaware they'd succeeded in their mission; The pilot still alive. They floated above it all, pressuring Lola to choose their fate.

[materialsscienceandengineering]

Scientists create material that can take the temperature of nanoscale objects

University of California, Irvine scientists have discovered a one-dimensional nanoscale material whose color changes as temperature changes. The team's results appear in Advanced Materials. "We found that we can make really small and sensitive thermometers," said Maxx Arguilla, UC Irvine professor of chemistry whose research group led the study. "It's one of the most applied and translatable works to come out of our lab." Arguilla likened the thermometers to "nano-scale mood rings," referring to the jewelry that changes color depending on the wearer's body temperature. But instead of simply taking a qualitative temperature reading, the changes in the color of these materials "can be calibrated and used to optically take temperature readings at the nanoscale," Arguilla said.

Read more.

[fantasblog]

Chapter 2: into the unknown. (scibill au/shift falls)

The night had grown quiet, but the silence in the aftermath of Stanford's disappearance was heavy with unresolved tension. Stanley, Bill, and Fiddleford stood near the now-cold remains of the portal, each lost in their thoughts.

Stanley’s frustration was palpable. “We need to find out where that portal led. If Stanford is out there, we have to bring him back.”

Bill, though shaken, was quick to shift into problem-solving mode. “We might be able to reconstruct some of the portal’s energy signatures. With Fiddleford’s expertise and my knowledge of dimensional stability, we could figure out where it went.”

Fiddleford nodded, his expression determined. “I’ve got some old blueprints and equipment that might help us analyze the portal’s residual energy. Let’s get to work.”

The trio returned to the lab, where Fiddleford began rummaging through his assortment of tools and gadgets. Bill, meanwhile, started recalibrating some of the lab’s more advanced instruments to detect any lingering traces of the portal’s energy. Stanley paced, his mind racing with thoughts of his brother.

As the hours passed, the lab was filled with the rhythmic sounds of scientific equipment working in unison. The air was charged with a renewed sense of urgency. Finally, Fiddleford emerged from the clutter with a set of readings.

“Alright, I’ve got something,” Fiddleford said, holding up a printout. “These energy patterns suggest the portal wasn’t stable. It might have connected to a dimension with fluctuating conditions.”

Bill examined the data closely. “If the energy readings are correct, we might be looking at a realm with highly variable physical laws. It could be anywhere or anywhen.”

Stanley, his determination unwavering, leaned in. “Then we need to find a way to stabilize our own portal to track down Stanford. What’s our next move?”

Bill’s mind raced through the possibilities. “We’ll need to create a new portal with precise calibrations to match the residual energy signatures we’ve detected. It will be risky, but it’s our best shot.”

Fiddleford was already setting up additional equipment. “I can help with the calibration, but we’ll need to be careful. If the portal’s energy is unstable, we might end up in a place we don’t expect.”

Stanley nodded resolutely. “Let’s do it. We can’t waste any more time.”

Hours of intense work followed, with the trio collaborating closely to build and fine-tune the new portal. The lab became a hive of activity, every tool and piece of equipment being used to its fullest potential.

As dawn approached, the new portal stood completed—a sleek, intricate structure humming with a controlled energy field. Bill took a deep breath, examining their work. “This should take us to the dimension connected to the residual energy. Are you ready?”

Stanley stepped forward, his resolve clear. “I am. Stanford’s out there, and I’m not stopping until I find him.”

Fiddleford gave a reassuring nod. “We’ll be right behind you. Let’s hope this portal gets us where we need to go.”

With that, Stanley stepped through the portal, followed by Bill and Fiddleford. The moment they crossed the threshold, they were enveloped in swirling lights and shifting sensations. The world around them seemed to twist and blur as they traveled through the dimensional rift.

When they finally emerged on the other side, they found themselves in a strange and alien landscape. The sky was a swirling mix of colors, and the ground beneath their feet was composed of an otherworldly material that shifted and shimmered. The air was thick with an unfamiliar energy, and the atmosphere seemed to vibrate with a constant hum.

Stanley, Bill, and Fiddleford scanned their surroundings, searching for any sign of Stanford Pines. The landscape was both mesmerizing and disorienting, with strange formations and glowing entities dotting the horizon.

“We need to stay focused,” Bill said, his voice steady despite the surreal environment. “If the portal’s readings were accurate, there should be some clues here about where Stanford might be.”

Stanley nodded, his eyes scanning the horizon. “Let’s split up and cover more ground. Keep in contact through the communicators we brought.”

The trio set out, each taking a different path in the hope of finding some sign of Stanford. As they ventured deeper into the unknown dimension, the landscape grew even more bizarre and challenging. Strange creatures and shifting terrain tested their resolve.

Meanwhile, Stanford Pines found himself in a tumultuous environment, far from the safety of his brother’s lab. The dimension he had been thrown into was chaotic, with reality constantly shifting and unpredictable dangers lurking around every corner. He knew he had to find a way back, but the odds were stacked against him.

As the search continued, the bond between Stanley, Bill, and Fiddleford grew stronger, their combined skills and determination guiding them through the perilous journey. Little did they know, their quest was just beginning, and the true challenges lay ahead as they ventured deeper into the mysteries of the unknown dimension.

**Thirty Years Later**

Thirty years had passed since the dramatic events that had thrown Stanford Pines into the unknown dimension. In that time, the world had changed, but some things remained constant. The small town of Gravity Falls, Oregon, had become a place of legends and mystery, drawing curious visitors from far and wide.

The Mystery Shack, once a humble tourist trap, had grown into a popular attraction. Its owner, Stanley Pines, had transformed it into a thriving business, capitalizing on the town’s enigmatic reputation. The shack was filled with oddities and curiosities, each piece carefully selected to pique the interest of visitors seeking answers to the town’s many mysteries.

Stanley, now in his sixties, had become a local legend himself, known for his gruff charm and the stories he spun about the strange occurrences in Gravity Falls. His life had taken on a routine that balanced managing the shack with the occasional foray into town life.

One crisp autumn day, Stanley was behind the counter of the Mystery Shack, handling a transaction with a visitor, when the bell above the door jingled. He looked up to see two familiar faces enter the shop: Mabel and Dipper Pines, now in their twenties and looking as eager as ever.

“Welcome back to the Shack!” Stanley greeted with a broad smile. “Mabel, Dipper, it’s been a while. What brings you two back to Gravity Falls?”

Mabel, her vibrant sweater reflecting her cheerful personality, hugged her great-uncle tightly. “Stanley! We missed you! We’re here for a visit and to check out the old place.”

Dipper, now wearing a more mature version of his signature cap and jacket, shook Stanley’s hand. “It’s good to see you, Uncle Stan. We’ve heard some strange reports coming from the town lately and thought we’d come investigate.”

Stanley raised an eyebrow, his interest piqued. “Strange reports, you say? Gravity Falls hasn’t lost its touch, that’s for sure. You might be in for an adventure.”

As the trio began to catch up, the conversation was interrupted by a sudden, eerie chill that swept through the Mystery Shack. The lights flickered, and a shadowy figure appeared in the doorway, sending a shiver down everyone’s spine.

“Hello, Stanley,” said the figure, stepping into the light. It was Bill Cipher, but not in his usual chaotic form. Instead, he appeared more refined, dressed in his signature black necktie and scientist’s cloak, but with an unsettlingly familiar aura.

Stanley’s face went pale. “Bill Cipher? What are you doing here?”

Bill’s eyes gleamed with a mixture of amusement and mischief. “Oh, Stanley, it’s been a long time. I see you’ve managed to hold down the fort while I’ve been… away. I heard you’ve been keeping things interesting in Gravity Falls.”

Dipper and Mabel exchanged wary glances. “You know him?” Dipper asked.

Stanley nodded, his expression grim. “We have a complicated history. Bill Cipher was once a powerful entity who caused a lot of trouble. We thought he was gone for good.”

Bill chuckled, his voice echoing with a strange resonance. “Gone? No, just taking a different approach. I’ve been exploring new dimensions, new possibilities. And it seems I’ve stumbled back into your little corner of the universe.”

Mabel stepped forward, her eyes narrowing. “What do you want from us, Bill?”

Bill’s grin widened. “Oh, nothing too drastic. I’m just interested in catching up and perhaps seeing if old friends might still have some use for my… unique talents.”

Stanley’s expression hardened. “We don’t want any more trouble. If you’re here to cause problems, you’d better leave.”

Bill’s eyes flickered with a mix of amusement and challenge. “Trouble? No, no. I’m simply here to reconnect and see how things have changed. Besides, I’ve always enjoyed a bit of chaos now and then.”

As the tension in the room mounted, Dipper and Mabel stood by their great-uncle, ready to face whatever came next. The unexpected appearance of Bill Cipher signaled that the strange and mysterious world of Gravity Falls was far from finished with its secrets.

Stanley took a deep breath, his gaze steady. “Alright, Bill. If you’re here to make trouble, you’ll find we’re not the same people we were thirty years ago. But if you’re here for answers or something else, you’ll have to play by our rules.”

Bill’s grin remained, though there was a flicker of something unreadable in his eyes. “Oh, I do enjoy a challenge. Very well, Stanley. Let’s see what this new chapter brings.”

As the shadows lengthened and the evening grew darker, the stage was set for a new adventure. With Bill Cipher’s return, Gravity Falls was once again on the brink of mystery and intrigue, and the Pines family was ready to face whatever came their way.

As the tension with Bill Cipher hung in the air, the Mystery Shack’s door swung open again, this time letting in a familiar figure. Old Man McGucket, now considerably older with a beard and glasses that had seen better days, shuffled in with his usual haphazard gait. His weathered appearance and the assortment of odd gadgets he carried were unmistakable.

“Howdy, folks!” McGucket called out, his voice as cheerful as ever despite his advanced age. “I heard tell of some strange goings-on and figured I’d come lend a hand.”

His jovial demeanor faltered slightly when he noticed the imposing presence of Bill Cipher in the room. McGucket’s eyes widened behind his glasses, and he took a hesitant step back.

“By the stars! Is that… Bill Cipher?” McGucket exclaimed, his voice tinged with a mix of fear and recognition. “I thought he was long gone!”

Stanley’s face tightened as he looked at McGucket. “Yeah, he’s back, and we’re not sure what he wants this time.”

Bill’s eyes lit up with recognition as he took in McGucket’s appearance. “Ah, Fiddleford McGucket. Still in one piece, I see. It’s been quite a while since our paths crossed.”

McGucket’s gaze was wary but resolute. “I don’t want any trouble, Bill. If you’re here to stir up chaos, you’ll have to go through me.”

Bill chuckled, a mix of nostalgia and amusement in his voice. “Oh, I remember you well, Fiddleford. You were always a bit of a wild card yourself. I’m surprised you’re still around, given the upheavals of the past.”

McGucket gripped his walking stick tightly, his expression a mix of determination and apprehension. “We’ve all been through a lot, Bill. But we’ve learned to deal with folks like you. Just keep in mind that Gravity Falls doesn’t take kindly to your kind.”

Stanley nodded in agreement. “We’ve faced many challenges, and we’re ready to face whatever you throw at us. Just don’t make the mistake of underestimating us.”

Bill’s smile was enigmatic as he regarded McGucket. “Very well. I didn’t come here to fight, though. I’m here to see how things have changed, to see what’s become of the world I once knew. I must admit, it’s fascinating to see how you’ve all adapted.”

McGucket’s eyes narrowed as he studied Bill. “You may be here for curiosity, but we’re not letting our guard down. There are plenty of mysteries left in Gravity Falls, and we intend to keep it that way.”

Bill’s expression softened slightly, though his eyes retained their glint of mischief. “I wouldn’t have it any other way.”

With that, the atmosphere in the Mystery Shack grew slightly less tense, though the presence of Bill Cipher was a constant reminder of the challenges that lay ahead. Stanley, Dipper, Mabel, and McGucket knew that they needed to stay vigilant.

As the evening progressed, they began discussing their next steps. McGucket shared his insights into recent odd occurrences around Gravity Falls, while Bill listened with an air of detached interest. Though his true intentions remained unclear, his return had already set the stage for a new chapter in the town’s enigmatic history.

With McGucket’s arrival, the group’s resolve to uncover the mysteries of Gravity Falls was strengthened. They knew that whatever came next, they would face it together, combining their strengths and knowledge to protect their world from the ever-present shadows of the unknown.

The evening was settling into a comfortable rhythm, with the tension from Bill Cipher’s appearance slowly easing as the group engaged in discussion. The door to the Mystery Shack jingled once more, and in walked two familiar faces: Soos Ramirez and Wendy Corduroy.

Soos, now a burly man with a friendly grin and a collection of colorful tattoos, entered first. “Hey, everyone! I heard there was some crazy stuff happening and thought I’d swing by. How’s it going?”

Wendy followed closely behind, her laid-back demeanor and casual attire as effortlessly cool as ever. “Yo, what’s up, guys? I saw the commotion and figured I’d come check it out. Hope I’m not interrupting.”

Stanley greeted them with a warm smile. “Soos, Wendy! Glad you could make it. We’ve had quite the evening—Bill Cipher’s back.”

Wendy’s eyes widened, and she shot a glance at Bill. “Seriously? I thought that guy was gone for good. What’s he doing here?”

Soos, looking more curious than alarmed, stepped closer. “Yeah, I remember that dude from before. What’s the deal with him showing up now?”

Bill gave a theatrical bow. “Ah, the legendary Soos and Wendy. It’s a pleasure. I assure you, I’m here to observe and perhaps rekindle some old connections.”

Soos’s face lit up with recognition. “Oh man, I remember you from when you messed with our reality. What’s your angle this time?”

Wendy crossed her arms, her gaze sharp. “We’ve dealt with enough of your tricks before. If you’re here to cause trouble, you’re gonna have a hard time with this crew.”

Bill’s grin remained, though his eyes sparkled with intrigue. “I assure you, I’m not here to cause chaos—at least, not in the way you might expect. I’m merely interested in how things have evolved since our last encounter.”

Stanley gestured to the group. “We’ve all been through a lot, and we’re ready to handle whatever comes next. We’ve managed to keep Gravity Falls safe for a reason.”

Soos nodded enthusiastically. “Sounds like a plan. If you need any help around here, you know we’ve got your back.”

Wendy gave a supportive nod. “Yeah, just let us know. We’re all in this together.”

As the group began to catch up, Soos and Wendy shared their own updates. Soos had continued to work at the Mystery Shack, helping to maintain its quirky charm and manage the influx of curious tourists. Wendy had moved on to new adventures but still remained a close friend to the Pines family.

The conversation turned to recent strange occurrences in Gravity Falls. Soos and Wendy recounted tales of odd sightings and unexplained phenomena, adding to the growing list of mysteries that had surfaced since the portal incident.

Bill listened with genuine interest, his eyes reflecting a mix of curiosity and amusement. “It seems Gravity Falls has maintained its reputation as a nexus of the extraordinary. I suppose it’s no surprise that such a place would attract attention from various… entities.”

Stanley’s expression remained cautious but determined. “Whatever your reasons, Bill, you’re part of this new chapter. We’ll deal with whatever challenges come our way.”

With everyone now gathered and involved, the group began planning their next steps. They needed to investigate the recent anomalies and figure out how to address the lingering threat that Bill Cipher represented.

As they worked together, the bonds between them grew stronger. The unexpected return of Bill Cipher had reintroduced an element of uncertainty, but with Soos, Wendy, and the rest of the team united, they felt ready to face whatever the future held.

The night in Gravity Falls was once again filled with the promise of adventure and mystery, as the Pines family and their friends prepared for the challenges that lay ahead.

As the group continued their discussions in the Mystery Shack, Dipper and Mabel decided to explore the various artifacts and curiosities scattered throughout the place. The walls were lined with old photographs, strange objects, and mementos from the Shack's long history.

Mabel’s attention was drawn to an old photo framed on a nearby wall. It depicted a younger Stanford Pines with Stanley and Fiddleford McGucket, all three smiling and engaged in what appeared to be a celebratory moment.

“Hey, Dipper, check this out!” Mabel called out, pointing to the photo. “Who’s this guy with Uncle Stan?”

Dipper walked over, his eyes scanning the photograph. “That looks like it’s from a long time ago. I recognize Uncle Stan and Mr. McGucket, but I don’t remember seeing this guy before.”

Bill Cipher, who had been watching with a detached curiosity, stepped closer. His eyes lingered on the photo with an almost imperceptible flicker of interest.

Stanley, noticing the focus on the photo, sighed and approached. “That’s Stanford Pines. My twin brother. He disappeared thirty years ago after a... well, an incident with a portal.”

Mabel’s eyes widened. “Wait, that’s Stanford? I’ve heard stories about him, but I didn’t know what he looked like.”

Dipper frowned, his mind racing. “So this is the brother who went missing? What happened to him?”

Stanley’s expression grew solemn. “He was pulled into another dimension by the portal. We tried to find him, but the portal’s instability made it nearly impossible. Over the years, we’ve tried to piece together what happened, but he’s been lost to us.”

Bill Cipher’s gaze remained fixed on the photo, his face a mask of inscrutable emotions. “Stanford was quite the brilliant mind. It’s no wonder he would be involved in such extraordinary events.”

Mabel’s voice was filled with concern. “If Stanford is still out there, then we need to do everything we can to find him.”

Stanley nodded, his determination evident. “I agree. We’ve been working on ways to track him down, but it’s been a slow process. With the recent disturbances, it’s possible there might be new leads.”

Bill’s eyes sparkled with a hint of intrigue. “Interesting. If Stanford is still in that dimension or somewhere connected to these disturbances, finding him could prove quite… enlightening.”

Dipper looked at Bill with renewed wariness. “Are you suggesting you want to help us find him?”

Bill’s smile was enigmatic. “I’m simply interested in the outcomes. My involvement could be beneficial, or it might complicate things. It’s up to you to decide.”

Stanley’s eyes narrowed. “We’ll take all the help we can get, but don’t think we trust you entirely. This is about finding my brother, and we won’t let anything stand in our way.”

The group fell silent, contemplating the implications of Bill’s offer. The mystery of Stanford Pines and the uncertainties surrounding Bill Cipher added layers to their already complex situation.

Mabel turned to Stanley with a hopeful expression. “We’ll get through this, Uncle Stan. We have to believe that Stanford is out there and that we can bring him back.”

Stanley’s expression softened slightly. “Yes, we have to keep that hope alive. We’ll start by examining the recent anomalies and seeing if there are any clues that could lead us to him.”

With their resolve renewed, the group prepared to embark on the next phase of their quest. The photo of Stanford Pines served as a poignant reminder of their mission, driving them forward with a mix of determination and hope.

As the Mystery Shack bustled with activity, the Pines family and their friends faced the challenges ahead with renewed purpose, ready to confront whatever mysteries and dangers lay in wait.

The room fell silent after the group’s discussion of Stanford Pines. Stanley’s eyes were fixed on Bill Cipher, his expression a mix of anger and frustration.

“You know,” Stanley said suddenly, his voice tight with emotion, “I need to ask you something directly, Bill. Did you—” he paused, struggling to control his anger, “did you mess with my brother? Did you do something to him?”

Bill Cipher’s eyes widened slightly, and he regarded Stanley with a mixture of amusement and irritation. “Stanley, that was a long time ago. It’s not as simple as you might think.”

Stanley’s fists clenched at his sides. “Don’t give me that! You were there, and you know what happened. If you had a hand in it, you’re responsible. My brother’s been missing for thirty years because of things connected to you.”

Bill’s smile faded, replaced by a more serious expression. “Stanley, I understand your anger, but the events of the past are complex. I didn’t deliberately harm your brother, but the nature of our interactions and the chaos of those times certainly played a role.”

Mabel and Dipper exchanged worried glances, sensing the depth of the confrontation. “What does that mean?” Dipper asked. “Are you saying you had some kind of influence or control over what happened to Stanford?”

Bill’s gaze was inscrutable. “My presence certainly contributed to the instability, but the portal’s nature and the actions taken were beyond my sole influence. What happened to your brother was a consequence of many factors.”

Stanley’s anger softened into a weary resignation. “So, you’re saying you didn’t directly do anything, but you were still part of the reason he’s gone. That doesn’t make it any easier to accept.”

Bill sighed, his tone reflecting a hint of regret. “The past cannot be changed, Stanley. My role in it was a result of the chaos I thrived in at the time. If there’s anything I can do to help now, it’s because I am genuinely interested in seeing how things have evolved.”

Stanley’s gaze remained sharp, but he nodded slowly. “If you want to be part of this, you need to understand that we’re here to find my brother and bring him back. If you’re going to be involved, you better be on our side.”

Bill’s expression hardened slightly, but he nodded in agreement. “Very well, Stanley. I’ll assist, but don’t mistake my involvement for complete absolution. The past is what it is, but we can focus on the future.”

As the tension in the room eased, the group resumed their preparations, now with a heightened sense of purpose. Bill’s presence added a layer of complexity to their mission, but the Pines family and their friends were determined to move forward.

With a renewed focus, they began to strategize their next steps, knowing that finding Stanford Pines would be a challenging journey fraught with uncertainties. The photo of Stanford, along with the truths and tensions revealed, fueled their commitment to uncovering the mysteries of Gravity Falls and bringing their missing family member home.

.

.

.

With the tension from Stanley’s confrontation with Bill Cipher subsiding, the group refocused on their immediate goals. The lingering questions about Stanford Pines and the recent anomalies in Gravity Falls remained at the forefront of their minds.

Stanley, Mabel, Dipper, Soos, Wendy, and McGucket gathered around the table in the lab area of the Mystery Shack. The room was filled with blueprints, old maps, and various pieces of technology, all set up in preparation for their next move.

“So, what’s our plan?” Dipper asked, looking around at the gathered team. “We need to figure out where to start looking for Stanford.”

Fiddleford McGucket adjusted his glasses and spoke up. “We’ve seen some unusual readings lately. I’ve been analyzing the data, and it seems there’s been a significant increase in dimensional fluctuations around certain areas of the town.”

Wendy leaned over to look at the maps. “I’ve noticed some odd things too, like strange lights and weird energy bursts. Maybe these fluctuations are linked to where Stanford might be.”

Bill Cipher, who had been observing silently, finally spoke. “Dimensional fluctuations could be a key. If Stanford is indeed in another dimension, tracking these anomalies could lead us to a way to pinpoint his location.”

Stanley nodded, taking in the information. “Alright. We’ll use the data to narrow down the areas of interest. Fiddleford, can you pinpoint the strongest fluctuations?”

McGucket nodded. “I’ve already got a few locations that might be worth checking out. They’re spread out, so we’ll need to cover a lot of ground.”

Mabel, always quick to take action, suggested, “Why don’t we split up to cover more areas? We can regroup later and compare notes.”

Dipper agreed. “That sounds like a plan. We’ll need to keep in touch and share any findings immediately.”

Soos, ever enthusiastic, raised his hand. “I’ll take care of the research and keep an eye on the Shack. If anything changes, I’ll let you know.”

Wendy nodded. “I can join Dipper and Mabel in the field. I’m used to dealing with weird stuff around here.”

Stanley looked at Bill with a cautious expression. “And what about you, Bill? What’s your role in all this?”

Bill’s eyes gleamed with a mix of excitement and mystery. “I’ll assist as needed. I have my own methods for tracking dimensional anomalies, and my insights could be useful.”

The group set their plans into motion. Mabel, Dipper, and Wendy ventured out to investigate the areas identified by McGucket, equipped with various gadgets and tracking devices. Stanley, meanwhile, stayed behind with Bill and Fiddleford to analyze any new data and prepare for possible leads.

As night fell, the atmosphere around Gravity Falls was charged with a sense of urgency. The strange occurrences that had become more frequent in recent days seemed to intensify, and the team’s efforts to track down the source of these anomalies were more crucial than ever.

In the field, Mabel, Dipper, and Wendy encountered a series of peculiar phenomena—flickering lights, brief disturbances in the air, and unexplained sounds. They documented their findings and communicated their observations back to Stanley and the team.

Back at the Shack, Stanley and Bill reviewed the incoming data, piecing together the puzzle. Bill’s insights into dimensional disturbances provided valuable context, helping them understand the patterns and potential connections.

Hours passed, and the team continued their tireless search. Despite the challenges and the uncertainties surrounding Bill’s involvement, their shared goal of finding Stanford Pines united them.

As dawn approached, the group reconvened at the Mystery Shack to compare their findings. The data indicated that the fluctuations were converging on a specific area of Gravity Falls, hinting at a possible connection to Stanford’s location.

Stanley gathered everyone for a final discussion. “It looks like we’re closing in on something. The anomalies are concentrated in one area. We’ll need to investigate further to see if it leads us to Stanford.”

Bill, his demeanor focused, added, “It’s a promising lead. We should proceed with caution, but it seems we’re on the right track.”

With a renewed sense of determination, the team prepared for the next phase of their search. The mysteries of Gravity Falls were far from over, and the quest to find Stanford Pines was just beginning.

As they set out once more, the bonds between them grew stronger, fueled by the hope of reuniting with their missing family member and unraveling the secrets of the enigmatic world they lived in.

Part 1

Part 3

Part 4

[gallifreyinstituteforlearning]

in gallifreyan, whichever scripts, how do they write coordinates, be it time or displacement? Or planet relative calendar dates.

How do Time Lords write coordinates?

There's a bit of contradictory information and things that don’t make much sense when it comes to space-time coordinates and Gallifreyans, but here’s an answer I hope will sate your curiosity, with plenty of background:

🔑Key Parts of the Coordinate System

Spatial Coordinates: These specify locations in three-dimensional space relative to Galactic Zero Centre (Gallifrey’s Eye of Harmony, basically, or at least somewhere near it). They usually consist of Vector and Quadrant particles.

Temporal Coordinate: This indicates time, relative to Gallifrey’s present (whatever that’s supposed to mean! I would probably assume that while Gallifrey went walkies, the Doctor's TARDIS either used temporal coordinates relative to Event One (the creation of the universe), or otherwise fixed it at a certain Gallifreyan date. There are also specialised TARDIS instruments which can be calibrated help skip the temporal coordinate stuff and make the input relative to the planet).

Universal Coordinate: This designates the specific universe required.

Epsilon Coordinates: Calculated paths through the Space-Time Vortex, usually handled by a TARDIS automatically.

Flight Data: Details about departure and destination points.

🚀Space-Time Coordinates Format

Space-time coordinates consist of fifteen digits. Using these two combined below will get you to the right star system:

Vector (2 digits): Indicates the broad direction.

Quadrant (2 digits): Specifies the quadrant within the galaxy.

Using these two below in addition will get you a more precise location, and a time:

Exact Spatial Location (7 digits): Detailed coordinates within the quadrant.

Temporal Location (4 digits): Relative to Gallifrey’s present (you'll obviously need to be longer to be more precise).

🌍Example

Let's have a crack with Earth’s galactic coordinates. We know the Earth’s Galactic Coordinates are 5804 4684884:

Vector: 58, Quadrant: 04 (solely on these you’ll reach Mutter’s Spiral)

Exact Spatial Location: 4684884 (add this and you’ll reach Earth)

Temporal Location: 9182 (+9182 time units from Gallifrey’s present)

The Flight Data Monitor will simplify this. Assuming a journey from Earth to fictional Zargon 3, your TARDIS monitor will display something like this:

Departure Planet: Sol 3 (Earth) [Dimension 01] Location: London, England Local Dateline: 2024 Earth Year, 10th Era of Gallifrey Destination Planet: Zargon 3 [Dimension 04] Location: Zargon City, Zargonville Local Dateline: 156 Zargon Year, 11th Era of Gallifrey

Complete Coordinates:

01 5804 4684884 9182 -> 04 0316 0316500 3050

🏛️Integration with Landmark Worlds

Additionally, a TARDIS’s Galactic Positioning System can be fine-tuned using the relative locations of several Landmark Worlds. These landmark worlds include Gallifrey, Dagusa, Caresh, Erekan, Gau-Usu, and Cern. This way, the TARDIS can get more precise navigation by periodically materialising in space to recalibrate bearings as it's flying.

🔢Epsilon Coordinates

Then there are Epsilon Coordinates. These serve as a roadmap through the Space-Time Vortex, and need to be calculated before a flight. A Time Lord could do it mentally if they wanted, but the TARDIS usually automatically calculates these – it’s hugely complex maths, even for a Time Lord.

🖊️Writing the Coordinates

This really depends on the script you'd prefer to use, you can use modern Gallifreyan, which is probably the most lore-friendly, or Sherman's, or circular, or just bog standard Latin script numbers.

For GIL's Sollifreyan conlang shorthand script, you can use the 0-9 base with hyphens in-between, where the spaces would go.

Related:

💬|🗣️🤬Do Time Lords have their own curse words?: Taking you through all the bad words/phrases of Gallifrey.

💬|🗣️✍️How do Time Lords write dimensional coordinates?: How dimensional coordinates get written and work in TARDISes.

📺|🗣️⏲️The Timing of a Time Lord

Phew, hope that helped! 😃

Any orange text is educated guesswork or theoretical. More content ... →📫Got a question? | 📚Complete list of Q+A and factoids →📢Announcements |🩻Biology |🗨️Language |🕰️Throwbacks |🤓Facts → Features:⭐Guest Posts | 🍜Chomp Chomp with Myishu →🫀Gallifreyan Anatomy and Physiology Guide (pending) →⚕️Gallifreyan Emergency Medicine Guides →📝Source list (WIP) →📜Masterpost If you're finding your happy place in this part of the internet, feel free to buy a coffee to help keep our exhausted human conscious. She works full-time in medicine and is so very tired 😴

[qsmetrologyprivatelimited]

Coating Thickness Gauge

[empresskrennic]

♟️👑 Empress x Krennic Chapter 1

When you throw down the gauntlet, be prepared for someone to pick it up... and kiss it.

🚫 18+, MINORS DNI

Chapter 1: Kiss the Gauntlet 🔥

When my boot crossed the edge of the Delta shuttle’s ramp and softly kissed the docking bay, a thousand stormtroopers in crisp lines of pure white snapped to attention.

Echoing in a singular clap, the sound was as clean and impressive as the station itself. Idly, I compared my glistening boot and the polished lines of the decking, wondering who had expended more effort in preparing for my arrival: Krennic, who had obviously thrown down all his chips in the hope of winning my favor…or me.

My pause was not unnoticed. I could feel the annoyance running hot in the veins of my assistants, who stood six respectful steps behind me, waiting warily for my next move and knowing they could not predict it.

I cracked an affectionate half-smile at my boot.

Their thoughts always betrayed them. I threw them off balance. Kept them wondering, never able to calibrate accurately to their Empress’s actions. I admit it, I deliberately deceived them; but in my defense, it was a great strategic game. Tons of fun.

And it was my hallmark, my callsign. Surprising, unnerving, seemingly unnecessary actions I threw my entire authority behind, threatening (and sometimes doling out) demotions or transfers to Hoth for the warm-blooded and Tatooine for those who preferred cold. I’m not mean or crazy. And I’m certainly not a psychopath, like that one-dimensional genius Palpatine.But seriously…if the Empress of the Galactic Empire wants to shine her own boots, she shouldn’t have to shoo her assistants away more than once.

But unfortunately…no, not unfortunately. It’s actually sweet. Just annoying…I had a kind of magnetism that attracted people who wanted to care for me, to protect me like some kind of incontinent grandma.

Or incontinent Grand Moff.

I chuckled to myself at the joke, eyes still studying the shiny boot tip touching the equally shiny docking bay, internally betting on who would try to get my attention first: would the stormtroopers shift uncomfortably, or would my assistants clear their throats?

They cared for me. Truly, I knew. Mentally, I forced myself to acknowledge it, to appreciate it, like a rich kid who really likes steak but is served world-class chicken instead. But I couldn’t shake the fact that I hated it. The gentle cronyism chafed like a left-handed blaster bolt in a plasma coupling.

I liked a good fight. But it felt like the galaxy had been drained of worthy opponents after the war. I hoped my successes on the Cat, the ISD Catastrophe, weren’t the cause. It very well could have been because I did so well that they made me Empress after Palpatine’s unfortunate accident that I definitely had nothing to do with.

Rustling brought my gaze up from my boot. Not my assistants; no, the sound came from straight ahead, down the middle of the stormtrooper gauntlet. All at once, my assistants’ annoyance suddenly ran ice cold.

A swath of fluttering cape in a creamy white just barely offset from the stormtroopers’ stark white—deliberately chosen to be maddening, I observed with cautiously sprouting glee—announced his arrival. The cape was so bloody interesting I stood inelegantly still with one foot forward, frozen as I drank in the fluid dynamics of his chosen game piece.

When he drew near, I tore my attention from his magnificently strategic fashion choice and stepped down, waiting for him to come to me. His body was hard and lean, his gait long and aggressive—no, get it together—and his uniform was the same rebellious cream white as his cape. His boots were as shiny as mine.

His tan face was stoic, with narrow, pouty lips and a heavy brow. The creases in his skin were created by deep concentration and study rather than humor, anger, or anxiety. His hair was a confusing tapestry of pale shades, from silver-gray to wheat blonde. Mesmerizing. Made for combing with fingers—

His eyes were the only part of him he could not strategically select for this game. They were authentic, ice blue, and bearing down on me with an equal level of assessment. But there was complexity there I couldn’t identify.

I tasted his feelings. Trepidation. Determination.

A glimmer of desire—quickly quashed.

He didn’t yet know it, but he’d just made the first move on my board.

Or did he?

“Finally,” I murmured quietly as he stepped into my personal space. He locked his lean body into a snappy, flawless salute.

But then his hand twitched.

Nearly flawless.

That was unexpected.

Our eyes locked.

It had been deliberate.

Something old and cold and cynical melted in me.

Delicious.

As he took me in for the first time in person, not in a holo, something changed in the subtle expression of his eyes, morphing into something hard and analytical. It looked good on him. I found myself ejected from my comfortable home arena and floating in his…lost, marveling, and waiting for his large, black-gloved hands to reach down from the heavens and save me from the stars.

Was I attracted to the man, or to his game?

I lost my own internal bet as I cleared my throat, regaining my attention and composure. “Director,” I said simply, offering him room for an opening gambit. Most couldn’t resist the opportunity to speak at length to the Empress. Paired with my Force sensitivity, it always telegraphed their intention and methods and made for easy conquest.

But this time, I couldn’t shake the feeling I had already lost the advantage.

I felt a flash of undefined heat…passion? What kind?... from him, then his mind closed. Either he is sensitive also, or he is in complete control of himself. Disciplined.

The latter thrilled me.

“My Empress,” Krennic said gravely, lowering his salute. His accent tasted like caramel, gritty with sea salt. A subtle emphasis on the first word shot me further out of my carefully cultivated, stable orbit and I lost control for the first time in a long time.

Electric warmth shot through my body from deep within as I gazed into the depths of his blue eyes. I sucked in a breath, my lips parting at the intensity of my sudden desire.

His focus flicked quickly to my mouth. Creases formed at the corners of his eyes. Relief? No. Satisfaction. The bastard was holding in a laugh of triumph.

That did it. Silently, I cursed and imagined slapping myself.

It was my move now. I lifted my chin.

Blowing out my breath, I paused, then held out my hand, wrist limp, palm down.

Kiss it.

It was an ancient custom that had never been observed in the Empire because who would want to kiss Palpatine’s wrinkly old fist? I’d never bothered to demand such indulgent genuflection. Until right now.

Between two master players, it was a hell of a gauntlet to throw.

Undecipherable thunder tore across his face. Then the mass of onlooking stormtroopers, the entire Stardust 3 project, and the galaxy itself faded to inconsequence as Director Krennic knelt in a grand billowing of cape, gently took my hand in his gloved hands, and pressed his soft, warm lips to my skin.

The texture of his carefully combed blonde-gray hair bent over my hand made the moment too intimate. He was too close, we were touching too much. I itched to run my fingers through it, to separate the layers, to understand him and the way he played the game.

Instead, my fingers closed around his, and I felt his clench in response. No emotions. Controlled.

But his breath betrayed…something. It was hot and quick, and I felt his lips move subtly. He stayed there far too long. Either he was taking his time, getting the measure of me to learn my weaknesses, or he had…other aspirations.

Maybe both.

His kiss felt like a promise, felt like a threat. It felt like a cheat code and a decisive defeat. It was beseeching and hungry. It was overwhelmingly everything, possibilities without probabilities.

Anticipation warmed my chest as his unreadable face lifted, his Hoth-ice eyes drilling into mine from beneath the shadow of his heavy brow. I blinked slowly, unable to tear my gaze away, unwilling to flinch first.

A promise, I decided.

But of what?

I could not wait to play Krennic’s game.

-------

CHAPTER 2: The Rough Hands of a Director 🔥 →

← BACK TO TABLE OF CONTENTS

-------

Taglist: @99tech99 😘

[jartita-me-teneis]

Esta extraordinaria navaja, conocida popularmente como “la madre de todas las navajas suizas”, fue concebida por la firma alemana John S. Holler a finales del siglo XIX. Con unas dimensiones de 23 cm de largo y 9 cm de ancho y grosor, integra más de cien funciones en un solo mango de carey.

Entre sus prestaciones destacan:

• Un revólver de percusión de cinco disparos y espiga calibre .22, en perfecto estado operativo.

• Hojas de navaja de bolsillo en estilos liso, dentado y daga (dos unidades).

• Tijeras de distintos tipos, dos sierras, una barrena y una lanceta.

• Sacacorchos, gancho para botones y cortapuros.

• Un diapasón, utensilios de escritura (bolígrafos y portaminas) y un espejo.

• Navaja de afeitar y otros elementos de precisión.

El cuidado diseño del mango oculta dos compartimentos adicionales con herramientas aún más diminutas, sumando un total de 100 “hojas” y accesorios reutilizables en prácticamente cualquier circunstancia, incluso bajo fuego real.

Debido a su complejidad de fabricación —solo al alcance de los artesanos más diestros y de las casas más reputadas—, ejemplares de este tipo solo se veían en las grandes exposiciones industriales del siglo XIX. Uno de estos modelos forma parte de la colección del Smithsonian y se halla actualmente en préstamo al Museo de Armas de Fuego de Cody hasta, al menos, el otoño de 2015.

[unclegrumbles]

Ultimate Danny Phantom

United States Department of Energy Division of Ectoplasmic Energy Research (DEER)

HISTORY

In 1982, the Journal of Applied Physics published “Resonant Coupling of Cryogenic Superconducting Cavities for Enhanced Vacuum-Field Energy Extraction: Turning Quantum Fluctuations into Electrical Power,” written by the prodigiously intelligent college students Jack Fenton and Maddie Marmel, and co-authored by Professor V. Masters. The article described the Fenton’s research into Zero-Point Energy, and how – quite by accident – they discovered evidence of a parallel dimension when their resonator inadvertently harvested a highly potent matter-like energy in the form of ectoplasmic crystals. As the Fenton’s repeated and iterated on this errant Zero-Point Energy test, they successfully harvested more of the matter-like energy in what they surmised was its raw, slime-like form. The small samples they obtained demonstrated a miraculous compatibility with all manner of electronic devices. Even the smallest sample of ectoplasm provided what appeared to be limitless energy potential.

Their paper was quickly noticed by the Department of Energy’s Office of Energy Research, which swiftly moved in to publicly suppress circulation and discussion of the article while privately offering the University of Wisconsin-Madison (UWM) a modest University Research Initiative grant to continue Jack and Maddie’s ectoplasm research. The campus laboratory was transformed into an official Department of Energy Project Site. As part of the DoE’s many regulations, an on-site liaison was assigned out of the Argonne National Laboratory from Lemont, Illinois to monitor the project’s progress. Harriet Chin became a close friend of the Fentons and would remain their official liaison to the DOE for decades to come.

Jack and Maddie’s proposal for harvesting ectoplasm likened the barrier between Earth’s native dimension and “Zero-Space” to a drinking glass. While ectoplasm theoretically existed in limitless supply in Zero-Space (inside the drinking glass), attempting to break into this new dimension to harvest ectoplasm was fraught with danger and unknown variables. Alternatively, Jack and Maddie proposed a method for harvesting ectoplasm condensate, like the water droplets that form sweat beads on the exterior surface of the glass. While harvesting the substance this way would be tedious and produce only minute usable quantities of the substance, it was safer than trying to fracture the dimensional barrier and risk massive contamination. During the scheduled test of the modified resonant chamber, an over-correction in the magnetic field calibration resulted in such a fracture. Raw ectoplasm exploded from the chamber and saturated Professor Masters. Although the experiment resulted in a tragic and unanticipated casualty, it was a technical success. Jack and Maddie had proven the existence of ectoplasm to the DOE, and had inadvertently provided a uniquely devastating display of its energy potential.

The UWM incident made serious waves in the Department of Energy. With both the energy potential and inherent danger of ectoplasm revealed, the decision was made to reorganize the Office of Energy Research staff on site during the incident into a new in-house division called the Division of Ectoplasmic Energy Research (DEER). DEER quickly established two nodes: one at Argonne for continued study of Jack and Maddie’s resonator tech and ectoplasm particle studies, and the other at Oak Ridge National Lab for iterating on the resonating chamber siphon prototype, testing harvested ectoplasm, and prototyping new technologies using ectoplasm as an energy source. Jack and Maddie were hired on as principal investigators with DEER, operating with DOE security clearances and an annual operations budget to continue their research.

In the waning years of the 1980s, strange phenomena began occurring across the US. Cryptid and UFO sightings became more frequent. Disappearances in rural places saw an unsettling uptick. But what finally drew DEER’s attention was the formation of unexplained puddles of glowing green slime. Somehow, ectoplasm was leaking out from its native dimension. DEER’s mission shifted from just research and development to include field containment to its repertoire. At first, DEER worked closely with local law enforcement agencies to investigate and handle supernatural phenomenon using prototype containment equipment to fend off Ectoplasmic Threat Units (a broad term used to describe extra-dimensional creatures, later known colloquially as “ghosts”). By the end of the 1990s, DEER was in business with Axion Labs, a government-owned, contractor-operated outfit to supply DEER’s increasingly militarized field operatives with ETU-weaponry and containment devices. DEER’s rapid expansion saw it rechartered as a federally funded research and development center. Though it still reported to the Department of Energy, DEER saw more autonomy with the expansion of its field offices established near ETU hotspots.

By 2004, DEER was a full-blown paranormal agency with a distinguished track record containing and combating ETUs and locking down ectoplasm contamination sites, all while keeping the public at large in the dark about the truth of these paranormal incursions. DEER operates through three primary branches. An R&D branch with its HQ in the old UWM campus seized from the university by the Department of Energy through eminent domain, a Field Operations branch which trains and deploys DEER’s militarized rapid-response teams to incursion sites, and an Intelligence branch which uses a network of proprietary and third party sensor buoys, scanners, and satellites to monitor the globe for new incursions.

STRUCTURE

DEER operates under the authority of its Director, Zach Fielder. Its three branches are helmed by Deputy Directors responsible for coordinating DEER’s resources to prepare for and respond to ETU events. DEER quickly earned a reputation of playing nice and sharing resources with research-oriented organizations. NASA and NOAA possess advanced sensor networks that DEER upgraded and recalibrated to detect ectoplasmic energy signatures. But DEER has more enemies than friends in the federal government. DEER’s militarized field operations teams outrank all other law enforcement agencies, from local police to the CIA and DHS, when it comes to ETU events. They don’t particularly enjoy having their authority superceded.

In day to day operations, DEER is largely focused on research and development and intelligence. They are constantly developing and testing new technologies to assist their field operatives with ETU operations. While some of this work is conducted in-house, more extensive testing and fabrication is assigned to Axion Labs.

While R&D is centered in Illinois, with Axion Labs and DEER collaborating on a new facility on the outskirts of Amity Park, DEER’s intelligence operations are more decentralized. DEER intelligence operatives are stationed at data centers around the country, sharing office space with friendly organizations like NASA, NOAA, and even the NSA, and keeping tabs on surveillance and monitoring equipment to track ETU incursions. The core DEER intelligence staff work out of the UWM campus site, which serves as DEER’s HQ.

DEER’s field operatives are typically ex-military officers with exemplary records. The physical training and conditioning received in the military coupled with the rigorous intellectual pressures of higher ranking officer positions primes these recruits for DEER’s own grueling and dangerous training regiment. Field operatives are trained in ETU containment and combat, emphasizing civilian safety, and they are the most likely DEER agents to butt heads and escalate conflicts with other law enforcement agents who have a tendency to get in their way.

In addition to its day to day operations, DEER’s CFO maintains a crack team of talented lobbyists and enjoys the support of the Department of Energy and fellow research agencies, in addition to the deep bench of lobbyists at the disposal of Axion Labs and its parent companies, to support DEER in congressional hearings and annual budget requests. The public at large and other federal agencies are kept in the dark about the true nature of DEER’s activities as a matter of national security which sows distrust and disdain for them, especially since DEER tends to get nearly everything they ask for in budget requests. Congressional committee members privy to DEER’s activity, even if only partially, seem all too eager to make sure they have everything they need to combat the supernatural threat.

When DEER operatives from any of its branches are found in the field, they are typically seen wearing white, given the color’s high contrast with the neon green hues of ectoplasm which makes decontamination and cleaning more efficient. Each branch adopted this informal dress code independently of the others – R&D techs are clad in white lab coats, Intel agents wear white button-up shirts and blouses, and Field Operatives are covered head to toe in protective white armor. Eventually, DEER’s dress code was made official. To the public at large, they are colloquially referred to as “the Guys in White.”

DANNY PHANTOM

In 2004, Danny Fenton was visiting his parents’ laboratory in the Axion Labs facility. After over twenty years, the Fentons were finally ready to test their new and improved resonating chamber, now referred to as the Ectoplasm Siphon. However, upon activation, the siphon failed to initialize. Later that night, Danny used his father’s security badge to sneak himself and his two closest friends into the facility. Danny donned a protective hazmat suit and wandered into the inert machine.

Or, rather, the seemingly inert machine.

In the time since the earlier failed activation, his parents and their lab techs discovered the issue was a weak magnetic frequency calibration setting – perhaps subconsciously weakened by Maddie or Jack out of fear of repeating the incident that grievously injured Professor Masters so many years ago. The Fentons recalibrated the siphon and in the subsequent re-test, they achieved a successful activation. Microscopic ectoplasmic crystals had already been forming around cryogenic seed nuclei, and simulations of future tests showed promise in harvesting the prized ectoplasmic gel. The siphon had many safety mechanisms, but neither the Fentons nor any of the dozens of DEER’s R&D lab techs anticipated was a human bypassing the containment chamber’s safety protocols using the stolen credentials of one of the project leads and waltzing into the active siphon. A spark of static electricity from Danny’s suit triggered a chain reaction in the siphon resulting in another fracture in the dimensional fabric between Earth and Zero-Space

But instead of shorting out the siphon and frying its hardware, the powerful magnetic coils stabilized the fracture. The explosion of ethereal energy that devastated the UWM laboratory was contained inside a powerful magnetic field, creating a vibrant emerald window into Zero-Space. Danny, having been caught inside the machine at the exact point of the dimensional fracture, was imbued with immense concentrations of ectoplasmic energy. Danny’s friends dragged his unconscious form out of the lab before any Axion or DEER personnel could respond to the wailing alarms set off by the siphon’s malfunction.

Tucker, using Jack Fenton’s security clearance and his own encryption-cracking tool, temporarily disabled Axion’s security system the night of their break-in, but that was after Danny had already swiped his father’s badge to gain entry. It was the first of many clues Danny and his friends left in their wake. In the coming weeks, as sightings of a “ghost boy” in Amity Park grew more common, Director Fielder made an educated guess that Danny Fenton was, in fact, the “ghost boy” and that his powers were connected to the siphon incident.

While DEER carefully considered their options regarding a best approach to the Phantom situation, the Department of Homeland Security was eager to prove itself more deserving of DEER’s seemingly over-inflated budget. A DHS “Ecto Hazard Mitigation Team” conducted discrete tests using fabricated ectoplasmic energy signatures to draw the ghost boy out in the open. Their tests worked, and the DHS team used this data to lure Danny to Amity Park’s observatory in the hopes of publicly eliminating him and prove their organization superior to DEER in the process. Their plan backfired when their weapons passed through Danny’s intangible form and obliterated the observatory. Nine people were killed, including Valerie Gray’s mother.

The DHS fallout was swift, and the agency’s efforts to cover up their involvement in the incident led to even steeper penalties, not the least of which being loss of federal funding for their law enforcement operations. In the aftermath, DEER formally approached Danny Phantom with an offer to be classified as a DEER Asset. This classification would grant Danny a unique protected status not afforded to other ghosts, and allow for collaboration with DEER operatives.

---

Danny Phantom and DEER would enjoy a tense but nevertheless mutually beneficial partnership for a time. But all good things must come to an end...

[punkpandapatrixk]

New Moon💠Oracle Alchemy

Brand-new Oracle Alchemy format for New Moon readings on Patreon~♪

🌻🌕🐣

New Moon Alchemy💠in Leo

New Moon Alchemy💠in Cancer

New Moon Alchemy💠in Gemini

New Moon Alchemy💠in Taurus

[Master Masterlist] [Patreon] [Paid Readings]

☆♪°・. ☆♪°・. ☆♪°・. ☆♪°・. ☆♪°・. ☆♪°・.

Timeless☘️Soul Alchemy

Oracle Alchemy full posts on Patreon are divided into 2 sections: Creator's Notes contain just a tiny bit of life + blog updates (not that important😝) and Soul Alchemy contains high-vibrational messages calibrated to the frequency of 5th-Dimensional Consciousness🦢

Soul Alchemy messages are designed to assist you navigate the changing temperatures on Earth with more ease, grace and elegance. When you're able to consciously alchemise the way you interface with Reality and bypass specific deceptive constructs of the Matrix…WHOA🦄

🍀💖🍵

💠OA 32 - Passionately Desiring What Is Truly Good for You

💠OA 31 - Beating Addictions as A Coping Mechanism

💠OA 30 - Knowing You Really DO Deserve IT

💠OA 29 - Aligning the Stars in Your Favour

💠OA 28 - Being in Your Element, Always

💠OA 27 - Manifesting Minute by Minute

💠OA 26 - Touching the Gates to Paradise

💠OA 25 - Breaking the Limitations of the Earth Matrix

💠OA 24 - Bringing Down Heavenly Dreams to Reality

💠OA 23 - Fighting for What's Truly Essential!

💠OA 22 - Prioritising Those that Set Your Soul Ablaze with the Colours of Love

💠OA 21 - Sanity Is Founded on Security

💠OA 20 - Health Is the First Wealth, Bitch!

💠OA 19 - Patience with Yourself Leads to Patience with the World

💠OA 18 - Opening Yourself Up to Miracles

💠OA 17 - Being A Friend to Yourself

💠OA 16 - Releasing the Grip of Worries

💠OA 15 - Keeping the Lights of Inspiration

💠OA 14 - Creating High-Quality Reality

💠OA 13 - Having Your Way in the World!

☆♪°・. ☆♪°・. ☆♪°・. ☆♪°・. ☆♪°・. ☆♪°・.

[Master Masterlist] [Patreon] [Paid Readings]

[spacerebelsunny]

Part Three.

Part One:

Part Two:

Several vorns deeper into Cybertron’s tentative renaissance, the bond between Sideswipe, Sunstreaker, and Shade—once Dark Sideswipe—has solidified into something unshakeable. Their three-way spark connection hums with a rhythm unique to them: Sideswipe’s reckless warmth, Sunstreaker’s fierce precision, and Shade’s tempered storm of loyalty and loss. They’ve become a legend among the Autobots, a trinity that turns the tide in battles and trades barbs in the mess hall with equal ferocity. Yet, even in their unity, there’s a quiet undercurrent—Shade’s lingering grief for his lost Sunstreaker, now a soft ache rather than a consuming void.

One night, during a rare lull in the war’s demands, the trio is camped in a remote sector of Cybertron, calibrating their shuttle for a routine patrol. The sky shimmers with an unnatural aurora, a side effect of lingering dimensional rifts from their past travels. They’re joking, Sideswipe tossing a makeshift ball of scrap at Shade, who catches it with a smirk, when the air splits. A pulse of energy washes over them, and the world feels… heavier, like it’s holding its breath.

A figure steps from the aurora’s glow. Golden plating, scarred but radiant, with optics that burn with a familiar intensity. Sunstreaker freezes, his spark stuttering. Sideswipe’s jaw drops. Shade collapses to his knees, a strangled sound escaping his vocalizer.

It’s Sunstreaker—Shade’s Sunstreaker, the one who died in that other dimension. But he’s not solid, not fully here. His form flickers, translucent, like a spark given temporary shape. He’s a visitor, a ghost or an echo, tethered to this moment by forces beyond their understanding.

“You,” Shade whispers, optics wide, trembling. “You’re… you’re gone.”

The spectral Sunstreaker kneels before him, his gaze soft but piercing. “I am,” he says, voice resonating with a warmth that cuts through the night. “But I’ve been watching, Sideswipe. My Sideswipe. And I see you now—whole again.”

Shade flinches at his old name, but the ghost’s tone holds no judgment, only gratitude. He turns to the twins, his form shimmering as he stands. “You took him in,” he says to Sideswipe and Sunstreaker. “You gave him what I couldn’t anymore. A bond. A home. I… I can’t repay that.”

Sideswipe rubs his helm, awkward under the weight of the moment. “We didn’t do it for thanks, uh, other Sunny. He’s one of us now.”

Sunstreaker crosses his arms, optics narrowed but softer than usual. “He was a mess. We fixed him. That’s what we do.”

The ghost laughs, a sound so like their Sunstreaker’s rare chuckles that it aches. “You’re both stubborn as ever. Good. He needed that.” His gaze returns to Shade, who’s still on his knees, optics locked on his lost brother. “I felt you breaking,” the ghost says quietly. “Every cycle, I felt your spark unraveling. I couldn’t reach you. But they did.”

Shade’s voice cracks. “I tried to hold on. I tried to be you, to keep you alive in me. But I wasn’t enough.”

“You were always enough,” the ghost says, reaching out. His hand passes through Shade’s shoulder, but the gesture carries warmth, a spark-to-spark connection that hums through their bond. “You carried me. And now you carry them. You’re not alone anymore.”

Sideswipe steps closer, resting a hand on Shade’s other shoulder. “He’s right. You’re stuck with us, Shade. No take-backs.”

Sunstreaker grunts, but his spark pulses through their bond, steady and warm. “You’re not replacing him,” he says to Shade, nodding at the ghost. “But you’re ours. Deal with it.”

The ghost’s optics glow brighter, a smile flickering. “Thank you,” he says again, looking at the twins. “For giving him a reason to keep going. For letting him be yours.” He turns back to Shade, his form starting to fade as the aurora dims. “Live for me, Sideswipe. Not as a shadow, but as you. I’m proud of you.”

Shade reaches out, desperate, but his hand passes through empty air. “Don’t go,” he pleads, voice raw. “Not again.”

“I’m always with you,” the ghost whispers, his voice fading into the bond itself, a lingering warmth that settles in Shade’s spark. “Always.”

The aurora collapses, and he’s gone. The canyon is silent, save for the hum of Cybertron’s core. Shade stays on his knees, optics dim, but he’s not breaking. The twins feel it through their bond—a quiet strength, a closure he’s never had before.

Sideswipe pulls him to his feet, grinning softly. “You okay, tough guy?”

Shade nods, his voice steady but thick. “Yeah. For the first time… yeah.”

Sunstreaker claps a hand on his back, a rare gesture. “Good. Now help us fix this slagheap shuttle. We’ve got work to do.”

They return to their task, the bond humming stronger than ever. Shade moves with a new lightness, his spark no longer tethered to a ghost but lifted by it. The twins feel it too—a sense of completion, not just for Shade but for them all. They’re more than brothers now; they’re a legacy, carrying two Sunstreakers, two Sideswipes, in a bond that defies dimensions.

As they work under Cybertron’s stars, Shade pauses, optics catching the sky. He smiles, faint but real, and whispers, “Thanks, Sunny.” The words are for the ghost, but they echo through the bond, and the twins smile too, their sparks answering in unison.

They’re home. All of them.