#is a improved technology which came into existence

[wachinyeya]

When Stockholm’s Traffic Office conducted a general assessment of street traffic in the Swedish capital in 2001, it came to the shocking conclusion that two-thirds of all trees in the city center were dead or dying.

City authorities agreed that an urgent response was needed to nurse these leafy urban ecosystem pillars back to health.

Enter Björn Embrén, Stockholm’s first “tree officer.”

Under his leadership, various technologies and materials were tested in an attempt to create a more suitable living space for trees in the urban environment.

“I knew that they could grow if the circumstances were right,” says Embrén, a former professional gardener.

“It’s like putting a plastic bag over your head and tightening it over your neck,” says Embrén. “That’s what happened to the trees in Stockholm. They were dying.”

Eventually, inspired by railroad embankments — which require only a small amount of organic matter for healthy trees to grow — Embrén concocted what was to become known as the “Stockholm tree pit” model.

By 2002, Embrén had drawn up designs. And by 2003, they were already building.

The design involves digging a pit and constructing a frame underground around the tree’s roots, and then filling said pit with a mixture of soil and stone, sometimes including biochar, to both aerate and fertilize the soil. These permeable layers are very strong and physically adaptable but also allow stormwater to flow in, meaning the trees are provided with sufficient air and water naturally. They also allow rainwater to be soaked up — a necessity amid more extreme weather brought on by climate change.

“We found that the more breathable the materials we used, the happier the trees were,” adds Embrén.

Proponents say the method has a number of benefits, including the fact that pits can be installed around existing trees, they can bear the weight of heavy-vehicle traffic, they require little topsoil — a resource that is becoming scarce — and they need less watering than traditionally-planted trees.

This approach, which allows tree roots to thrive beneath hard surfacing, ergo allowing healthy trees to grow within the modern built environment, is particularly relevant as cities attempt to re-green and reforest in the face of climate change.

According to the United Nations Economic Commission for Europe, urban forests can help “future-proof” cities, which are responsible for about 75 percent of global CO2 emissions. Sustainable urban forestry, it says, can bring multiple benefits, such as lowering temperatures, improving public health, creating habitats for biodiversity, sequestering carbon, generating green jobs, and mitigating risks of floods and landslides.

“It’s more important now than ever before,” says Ryan Klein, an assistant professor in the Department of Environmental Horticulture at the University of Florida. “We have these massive populations in urban areas. And we’re seeing more extreme weather like hurricanes, wildfires and prolonged droughts. Trees can help to offset some of these negative effects.”

However, amid the rush to rapidly reforest cities, experts like Klein warn that due to ineffective methods and techniques being used, it’s common to see urban trees in poor health, and trees planted in cities often have very high mortality rates.

“We have the understanding of how to grow healthier, more sustainable and resilient forests,” says Klein. “The research backs it. Unfortunately, we don’t always invest the time, money or internal know-how on implementing this.”

A review of 16 scientific studies on urban tree mortality, published in 2019, found that in the first five years after planting, 6.6 to 7 percent of trees died annually.

“Urban soils are not very tree-friendly currently,” says Rik De Vreese, leader of the Urban Forestry Team at the European Forestry Institute. “It’s quite a serious threat.”

When trees aren’t properly anchored, De Vreese adds, it can also lead to other issues, such as trunks falling over and causing damage or roots warping sidewalks.

However, the Stockholm Tree Pit method — and the way that it’s been implemented in Sweden — is helping urban forests genuinely take root.

One of the first locations where Embrén introduced a tree pit was Erik Dahlbergsallén street in Stockholm, not far from the popular Swedish Museum of Natural History.

There, according to research by the municipality, the circumference of a selection of those planted trees increased from 30 to 35 centimeters to 70 to 83 centimeters between 2004 and 2013, even surpassing that of trees without the tree pits that have been there for more than 80 years. The latest figures from 2024 saw them reach between 100 and 136 centimeters.

“It’s easy to see how effective the pits have been,” says Embrén.

The municipality estimates that 2.3 million liters of rainwater are managed by the trees per year, and consequently, 4,600 square meters of roofs and sidewalks have been disconnected from the sewage system, reducing the burden on water treatment services.

This technique has proven so successful that it has become the standard for all other development projects in the public spaces of Stockholm. Embrén says he has been directly involved in constructing more than 3,000 tree pits, and while he has since retired, there are now three “tree officers” who have taken on the expanding role. 

Britt-Marie Alvem, one of the current tree officers, estimates that the city now builds between 500 and 1,000 tree pits a year.

These days, the tree pits are also in almost every Swedish city — with a few variations.

“Some have copied and changed a little bit, like adding pumice to the stone mix,” says Embrén.

Stockholm’s tree pits are now spreading across Europe, too. In Budapest, Hungary’s capital, the tree pits can be found all over Bartók Béla Boulevard and Arany János Street. Embrén says the Spanish city of Madrid has implemented the method using local materials. And it’s become increasingly popular in the U.K.

Ben Rose, the principal arboricultural consultant at U.K. tree service Bosky Trees and the founder of Stockholm Tree Pits, a U.K.-based company that produces the equipment required to make tree pits, says that he has planted about 500 trees using the Stockholm model in the U.K. since he began in 2019, mostly as part of small-scale pilot projects.

“The approach is very suitable for use in urban situations, particularly in car parks, in plazas, and beside walkways or cycle paths,” says Rose.

Join the Reasons to be Cheerful community by supporting our nonprofit publication and giving what you can. JoinCancel anytime

Yet there are some drawbacks to the system. Installation costs can be high, the pits can require a large amount of space to install, and it is impossible to reuse existing soil. In addition, for now there is a relative dearth of professionals who know how to construct tree pits.

“Our main concern is the price,” says De Vreese, whose team is currently studying the importance of “structural soils” like those deployed by the tree pits. “Excavating the soil surrounding the tree and refilling it is no small job.”

And while Professor Klein praises the Stockholm Tree Pit’s use of structural soil and how effective it’s proven to be, he notes that the long-term success of urban forestry also relies on other factors such as the supply of high quality nursery stock and proactive tree management such as routine pruning by municipalities.

“If we don’t have these we are setting ourselves up for failure,” he says. “Some cities do the bare minimum. In the U.S.A., it’s the wild west. But others, like Stockholm, are proactive, and they have public officials seriously behind it. That’s what we need.”

By: Peter Yeung, March 4, 2025

[electric-guillotines]

In The Wake of Fire - Pt.3

"The Woman in White"

WandaNat x F!OC Summary: Natasha and Steve talk to Fury about their walking lightning rod, and an FBI Agent comes forward with information that will shed light on the Boston event, revealing the existence of a secret society and it's mysterious leader...

Content: Hospital setting but nothing in detail Words: 5 ,994

Can also be read over on [Ao3]

Taglist: @bishovapls @queen-of-chaotic-surprises @natashasmuse

<<Start | <Back || Index || Forward> | End>>

Boston, MA 11:40 pm Massachusetts General Hospital

While most of the seriously wounded were sent south many still ended up at Mass General and space was a premium, but by some miracle, the hospital was able to find a secluded room for MacGrath, keeping her separated from the other patients that came and went in a constant flow of bodies, shaken and trembling from the shock of it all, eyes too wide in a vain attempt to process the day.

The constant shuffle left the hallway floors smeared in ash and dust, the janitorial staff working as hard as they could to keep it manageable. Eventually they started having people shake themselves off before they entered.

The doctors made short work of examining MacGrath once she was taken in. No broken bones and no internal damage, the burns on her skin were already healing faster than they had any right to. Pupillary reflex was normal except for the fact that her pupils contracted into vertical slits. Aside from that, they were confident MacGrath didn't have a concussion which was just as well—no one was particularly eager to test if it was even safe to run a CT scan on her let alone an MRI.

“Her vitals are improving every moment but her body is exhausted. Based on what you've told us that's to be expected. I don't need to tell you that we aren't equipped for someone like this so the sooner you can take her off our hands the better.”

For all her training and discipline, Natasha couldn't force herself to relax as the steady sound of a heart monitor reminded her where she was with every beat. Medical settings were a minefield at the best of times and unless she was the one being treated, Wanda knew better than to bring it up, not questioning the decision to go with MacGrath and force Natasha to second-guess what she was doing.

She was a Widow, an Avenger, she could handle being inside a hospital as long as none of the doctors came near her, but she couldn't say that bringing Steve along wasn't something of a fail-safe.

Sitting in the corner chairs across from MacGrath's bed, they quietly searched through a bag of personal belongings one of the nurses brought through.

Most of the items were burnt and tattered. The phone was completely fried, a little metal charm hanging off the corner in the shape of a death's head moth.

A plain black leather wallet seemed to have survived with minimal damage but the cards inside were similarly fried beyond use. Shuffling through them, Natasha noted a couple of bank cards, a library card, and what might have once been a driver's license if it wasn't a melted mess.

The top of a white and blue card caught her eye, tucked into the deepest recess of the wallet behind everything else.

“Anything?” asked Steve, having no luck with the clothes. He folded them neatly into a pile, ignoring that they were almost certainly bound for the trash in such a state and treating them with respect solely because they were still someone's things.

Carefully plucking the card free, Natasha blinked at what she saw.

“Huh, clever girl,” she murmured, holding it up for him.

The card carried similar damage, most of MacGrath's name burned out along with half of her face in the tiny portrait, but what stood out the most were the words printed along the top; 'Massachusetts Institute of Technology,' with faint block letters spelling out 'STUDENT' behind it.

Steve frowned.

Settling back in his chair, he turned his focus to MacGrath, crossing his arms. “How does a student end up in a situation like this?”

She sighed, folding her legs up into her seat, partially to annoy him and partially because it helped her feel more secure. “Definitely not on purpose, this didn't turn out well for her if it was.”

They fell into an uneasy silence, heavy with questions yet to be asked, suspicions festering as they watched the girl sleep.

The nurses had cleaned her up, wiping away the ash and dressing her in a hospital gown without the 'static' issue the EMTs noted.

Natasha's gaze flicked to MacGrath's hands—they hadn't sparked since arriving at the hospital.

She wondered how long that would last.

A knock on the door made them both jump to their feet.

“Evening,” said Fury as he entered, softly closing the door behind him.

Natasha relaxed, trying not to show the tiredness she felt creeping in at the edges. She could have been comfortable snuggled in bed right now but the world's evil rarely waited for convenience.

She stepped aside to let him move deeper into the room. “Nice mess you called us in for, Nick,” she said drily.

Fury threw her a look somewhere between exasperation and understanding. “You know I wouldn't have called for anything less.”

She moved to stand next to him at the girl's bedside, crossing her arms. “Yeah,” she conceded, “doesn't get any easier to look at.”

He glanced between her and Steve. “You all did good work today,” he said firmly. “Your priority going forward will be dealing with the culprits behind this attack, anything else will be delegated through SHIELD. But we can save the full debrief for tomorrow.”

He motioned towards MacGrath. “Tell me about her.”

Steve nodded, hands behind his back. “Name is Kassidy MacGrath. We found her alive at ground zero with lightning erupting from her body. Witness reports said she was holding an unknown device just before the blast. It started glowing and when she couldn't drop it we're told she started screaming at people to get away from her because she had a bomb.”

Fury narrowed his eye. “She couldn't drop it?” he echoed.

Steve gestured politely at her and Natasha answered, “that's what the witness said. He described her bracing her foot against the object hard enough to hurt herself, like it was locked onto her hands.”

“Looks can be deceiving. I'll admit the warning is odd, unless she really was in on this and got cold feet.”

“Maybe, but we won't know anything until she wakes up, and she'll be better off in our hands than here.”

Another knock at the door had them all tense, watching as the door was opened by a tall middle-aged woman in a sharp suit. She had stern, hawkish features and quick eyes, coldly flicking across everyone in the room before landing on Natasha like lasers.

This woman was military, Natasha could tell that much, if not active then an ex-service member probably working for the government. She also knew, immediately, that this woman did not like her.

Fury raised an eyebrow at the intrusion, hand resting comfortably on his hip close to a concealed weapon. “Can we help you?” he asked shortly.

“Yes, and I can help you return, Director Fury,” she said, her voice brusque and to the point with a distinct Tennessee accent.

She calmly closed the door behind her, facing them in a loose parade rest. “I am FBI Agent Mercy Cord and I have been tracking the group responsible for this atrocity for years.”

Fury stepped closer. “If you've been tracking them for so long then why did this happen, Agent Cord?” he asked, scrutinising her from head to toe.

Mercy's jaw flexed. “Because my superiors did not believe them to be threat worth chasing,” she nearly growled, frustration bleeding through. “My concern with them has always been brushed off because they stay under the radar when it comes to American interests.”

She took a steadying breath, something bitter crossing her face. “Besides,” she said, her eyes flicking to Natasha with that laser focus again, “we've all had our hands full chasing snakes in the grass, haven't we?”

Natasha shared a look with Steve.

The ramifications of their renewed fight with Hydra were still being felt even years later, it had shaken US institutions to their core and shattered public perception.

If not for Peggy Carter’s foresight and her refusal to allow in anyone brought over by Operation Paperclip, SHIELD would have been compromised to the point of destruction. As it was, SHIELD was able to do something that left much of the federal apparatus feeling more than a little humiliated; saving it from itself.

With a cold smile, Natasha simply said, “pozhaluysta (you are welcome.)”

Mercy’s glare could have cracked steel but she quickly returned focus to Fury. “Director, I have information you and the Avengers will need going forward,” she said, “but I would much rather discuss the details in a more secure location. I’m sure you understand.”

Nodding slowly, Fury slipped his hand into his coat, relaxing. He met Natasha’s eye and said, “get in touch with Stark and figure out where we need to be.”

At her nod, he turned to face Mercy. “Agent, walk with me.”

Once they left the room, Steve tilted his head. “Do you know her?”

Natasha chuckled. “No.”

At the confused look on Steve’s face, she took pity enough to explain. “I don’t need telepathy to hear someone calling me a ‘fucking Russki’ in their head. She’s FBI, it’s gonna ruffle her feathers that a Russian helped save her country.”

Steve’s face darkened and Natasha waved him off, focusing on the girl. “Put that away,” she said lightly, “you don’t do angry and brooding, that’s Bucky’s job.”

His expression softened. “I can when my friends are disrespected,” he said, low and sincere.

She couldn’t help the small, genuine smile that turned her lips. “Hey, she didn’t say it.”

“No. But you didn’t have to use Russian.”

“It’s funnier that way.”

He snorted, running a hand over his face, and Natasha grinned, pleased with herself for cracking his seriousness, just a little.

People taking issue with her history was nothing new to her and it would never particularly bother her, nothing anyone could say would ever come close to what she said to herself, not when she was her own harshest critic.

For better and often worse, Natasha knew exactly what she’d done throughout her life. Every sordid, murky, awful little detail, and all she could do was try to make up for it, even if those scales would never balance out, even if so much of it was done under duress, under conditioning, brainwashing, with a million little blades correcting her posture, behaviour, ways of thinking, pushing her to be a perfect, unfeeling weapon.

She wasn’t.

She never had been.

But Widows were very good at pretending to be exactly that, wearing a mask was second-nature, etched into their bones. Even now being sincere and vulnerable wasn’t easy, she hated how exposed it made her feel as if she were showing someone exactly where to stab her, but caring about others was nice, and so was being cared about, so she kept trying.

Her thoughts drifted to Wanda and Natasha’s grin softened into something hopelessly tender, something Steve noticed immediately.

He snapped his fingers, breaking her train of thought. “Okay, you can have girlfriend time later, Romanoff,” he teased. “We still have a job to do.”

Natasha rolled her eyes. “Oh please, like you aren’t going to face-time Bucky as soon as we’re home.”

Steve opened his mouth only to promptly close it, a faint blush creeping up his face.

She smirked, “exactly.”

Sobriety set in quickly, however, as their attention returned to MacGrath. The girl remained asleep, the burns on her skin growing fainter by the minute.

Natasha sighed, opening the team comms. “Tony. Are you still at the crater?”

“Nope! Samples collected, Banner and I are getting them secured for transport. What’s up?”

“MacGrath is stable but you saw what she was capable of. She can’t stay in the hospital, it’s too much of a risk. Not to mention, we just got a visit from an FBI Agent who claimed she had intel on the people responsible. Fury is talking to her right now but considering this was years of work for her I doubt she’ll just hand us the intel and step back.”

There was a pause, and Tony grumbled something unintelligible. “So, the kid needs to be somewhere secure and FBI proof, got it. Alright, Tower it is. Easier to keep an eye on them both.”

Once it was organised, Steve went with the transport carrying MacGrath and Natasha returned to the rallying point, only to be redirected to the jet. Most of the team was ready to leave, only some would stay behind to continue monitoring the crater and help recovery efforts.

Climbing the boarding ramp, Natasha gave the city one last look, her breath misting in the chilly evening air.

The streets weren’t as quiet as they should be at such a late hour, with recovery teams broken into day and night shifts the area would see activity day and night as crews worked to uncover bodies, clear rubble, and begin the slow process of rebuilding.

They had done what they could.

If she repeated it enough times perhaps the leaden feeling in her bones would fade.

Trying to exhale the weight, Natasha entered the cabin proper and closed the ramp behind her.

Sam was sitting in the cockpit with Clint, talking quietly, and Tony was out cold in one of the small bunks built into the cabin walls, his suit standing nearby like a guard dog.

Wanda was in one of the chairs, clearly trying not to fall asleep despite the way her head dipped only for her to jolt.

Natasha smiled, silently approaching her. “That doesn’t look like rest to me,” she said lightly.

Green eyes darted up at that and Wanda immediately grabbed her by the shoulder harness, pulling her down into the seat until Natasha had no choice but to sit in Wanda’s lap, held against her body like a cherished teddy bear.

Despite the heat creeping up her neck, Natasha relaxed enough to settle in a more comfortable position, dropping her head to Wanda’s shoulder. “Yeah,” she murmured, finally allowing the exhaustion into her voice, “I’m ready to go home too, lyubimaya (beloved.)”

---

Manhattan, NY 9:12am Avengers Tower

That it was only a mild headache that greeted her in the morning was as much a surprise to Wanda as it was a mercy. She knew she had overdone it by marching into the crater like that, and it would have been worse if not for the energy gel.

The thought of getting up made her groan and pull the duvet over her head.

“You and I both need food after yesterday,” Natasha grumbled from behind.

Wanda smiled despite the throbbing of her temples, enjoying the way Natasha’s Rs curled, grogginess sending her typically flawless American accent into complete disarray.

She dropped a hand down to the arm around her waist, stroking the smooth, warm skin of Natasha’s forearm.

“Can we not stay here for another hour at least?” she muttered.

As if to spite her, FRIDAY’s voice intruded from above.

“Attention, all Avengers are to report to the conference room by 10am for an official debrief. Repeat, all Avengers are to report to the conference room by 10am for an official debrief.”

Natasha’s arm tightened around her waist and Wanda grumbled a few choice words under her breath.

Apologetically, FRIDAY added, “sorry, ladies. Everyone else is awake already.”

With a squeeze of her hip, Natasha easily slid out of the bed and began stretching. She was almost always the morning person and she had probably been awake for a while, dozing on and off until Wanda showed signs of stirring.

Sighing, Wanda got up and began their routine.

They made the bed, showered, and dressed, moving around each other easily, the space between them familiar and comfortable, filled with playful touches and innocent kisses, avoiding anything more involved because they knew they couldn’t waste time getting distracted. Still, Wanda stole all the warmth and light that she could before the seriousness of the debrief, enjoying the coy little curl to Natasha’s lips every time she felt Wanda’s hand on the small of her back or shoulder. The press of lips to her temple or brow made her eyes sparkle in a way no one else got to see and Wanda cherished it like a delicate secret, holding it close to her heart.

Soon enough, they made their way up to the main floor, finding the rest of the team gathered in the kitchen.

Clint and Sam sat the island with coffee, Steve was cooking what smelled like a breakfast scramble in a large skillet, and Tony was foraging for something between the double doors of the fridge.

“Our sleeping beauties!” announced Clint, smiling over a cup of coffee. “You’re finally awake.”

“Weren’t you the last one awake before them?” asked Sam, nudging his shoulder with a smirk.

Clint shrugged. “Yeah but I wasn’t the last.”

Natasha smirked, leaning on the island. “I know you have a sleep mask, Barton,” she said, “it’s very pretty.”

Clint flushed a little, muttering into his coffee, “it’s Laura’s, the silk feels nice.”

Warm laughter bubbled around the room, brightening the morning mood.

The skyline outside was murky and grey, the streets twinkling faintly with car lights as a thick swaddling fog and watery clouds hid the sun from view.

“Recovery drinks, ladies,” said Tony, pulling a tray of ready made smoothies from the fridge. Two cups of the dark green liquid remained, the rest already downed by their teammates.

Breakfast passed quickly, the chatter light and easy until it was time to head to the conference room.

Steve introduced them to FBI Agent Mercy Cord as they filed in, already waiting for them at the head of the table with a stack of folders marked‘Avengers Eyes Only.’

A cursory pass at Agent Cord’s surface thoughts gave away very little and Wanda suppressed a frown, remaining outwardly neutral as she took in everything she could about this new Agent. She remembered Natasha mentioning the encounter at the hospital, but both of them had been so tired that she only recalled the name.

Agent Cord was stark and taut, her posture precise, every movement exacting, and her grey eyes flicked to each member of the team around the table with calculated chill. The only difference came when she looked at Natasha, a flex of the jaw, a twitch of the brows as if she wanted to scowl, then nothing, her face smoothed back into icy indifference. Yet, even then, nothing rose to the surface of her mind–Cord had an iron grip on everything so unless Wanda wanted to immediately alert the Agent to her surveillance, she would have to wait until something slipped.

Wanda narrowed her eyes, filing the observation away for later.

With everyone settled at the table, they contacted Fury via video call.

“Good morning,” he said evenly, “I trust you all managed to get some sleep.”

They each went over everything that happened, detailing the bodies discovered, the people they talked to, samples taken, evidence found, everything that would go into their official written reports later.

Agent Cord remained silent and Fury listened with intense attention to detail as usual, a trait of his that Wanda had slowly gotten used to. It used to feel as if he was trying to catch her out on something, find where she went wrong and prove why she didn’t belong here after all, now she understood it for what it was, simple professional zeal and more than a little dash of Fury’s desire to keep the Avengers safe and functioning. He needed to know everything down to the last detail if SHIELD wanted to stay ahead of any untoward activity against them.

It was an unfortunate truth that many people in power felt threatened by a group such as theirs, even if they had no interest in overthrowing governments and sending entire countries into chaos. Wanda certainly had no desire to inflict that, a nation’s fate should be its own without external interference, that was the point of accepting Hydra's honeyed poison, before she knew the truth.

No, the Avengers were meant to keep innocent people safe, even if that meant embarrassing government officials. They wouldn’t always succeed, they would make mistakes, but they would always try to do better, and Fury knew that.

With each of their accounts covered, Fury moved on to the next topic of discussion. “As you might expect, the clean-up is projected to take months. SHIELD has locked down access to the crater and its immediate surroundings for study, moving forward those teams will be in constant contact with Stark and Banner.”

Tony leaned back in his chair, arms folded. “Make sure your people aren’t hanging around down there,” he said, frustration creeping into his tone, “I don’t know what effect that energy has on the body long-term, if any.”

Fury nodded. “They’re treating it like a radiological hazard.”

He glanced to the side, tapping in a few commands on a console. “We found plenty of information about your guest, and she was a student at MIT, three years ago. She never finished.”

A file came up on their tablets;

Subject - Kassidy Quinn MacGrath

The file came with pictures from different points in the girl's life, some taken from group pictures, others from school yearbooks, and a few were candid shots where Kassidy seemed unaware she was in the picture, focused on a book or science project.

She had pale olive-tone skin, straight black hair, blue eyes, and wore a crooked half-smile when aware of the camera. A sharp jawline and strong nose paired with soft and subtle features made her a rather distinct and pretty young woman, and it clashed violently with the terrified girl Wanda saw yesterday.

None of the pictures showed her piercings, however, nor the current style of her hair, a wolf cut. The pictures showed an otherwise plain girl dressed in conservatively feminine clothing, not a single sign of rebellion.

Fury spoke as they moved to the first real page of the folder. “Kassidy MacGrath, twenty-five years of age. She was born in Northern Ireland to parents Silvia Jäger and Ronan MacGrath and has a twenty-one year old brother, Arthur. The family moved to Boston here in the states when MacGrath was nine and her father began working with a private security firm called Vanguard Security Services.”

Wanda lingered on a family picture, connecting the names to faces. The picture showed everyone in their Sunday best, primly posed and smiling for the camera. Kassidy clearly took after her mother, only sharing her eye colour with Ronan who sported short, sandy blonde hair and stern, gruff features that struggled to carry warmth.

Something about the picture didn’t sit right with Wanda and it took her a moment to hone in on what was bothering her. After all, it was a normal picture. Ronan and Silvia stood in the middle, Silvia's gloved hands resting on the shoulders of Arthur, standing in front of her wearing a navy suit like his father—the boy looked no older than 13. But then there was Kassidy, standing to her mother's right, wearing a modest green dress to match her mother, her eyes completely untouched by the smile on her face.

Another observation to file away for later.

She returned her attention to Fury’s voice. “By all accounts, she was a model student. Kept out of trouble at every turn, maintained a perfect GPA and went on to study physics at MIT with her sights set on theoretical and experimental physics.”

Steve sent Natasha a look of acknowledgement, getting a nod in return.

Tony leaned on the table, flicking through the document. “Disciplined, intelligent, and not afraid of a challenge,” he said flatly, brow furrowing. “What happened?”

“Two and half years into her studies, MacGrath dropped out and started working as a bike courier. No information on why, professors said she was doing great.”

“What about her parents?”

A flicker of something dark crossed Fury’s face. “We attempted to contact them but all they had to tell us was how much of a disgrace to the family she was before hanging up. They refuse to cooperate with us.”

Sam looked up from his tablet. “There’s a story there,” he said carefully, “any sign its connected to what happened yesterday?”

Fury sighed. “That’s the thing. She hasn’t missed a day of work in three years. There isn’t so much as a mark on her driver’s license. Her digital footprint is clean. She has two friends that we know of and doesn’t step out of line. There’s nothing to indicate she was an active participant.”

Clint spoke up, “good kids only run if you give them a reason.” His voice was quiet and hard, contemplative, like a thought that escaped containment.

No one spoke, weighed down by the implication of his statement.

A sick feeling coiled in Wanda’s stomach and she looked at the family picture again, the same discomfort nagging at her with greater insistence.

It wasn’t just the surliness of a teenager who didn’t want to be there.

Fury broke the uncomfortable silence. “Well, there’s more information in the file for you to review. For now, Kassidy MacGrath is under the care of Dr Cho and her team in the Tower. Consider her in protective custody until we can determine the danger of this situation.”

He looked at Mercy. “Now, I believe Agent Cord has information to share with you.”

“Thank you, Director Fury,” Cord said politely.

She moved with practised efficiency, handing out physical folders to each of them until she stood at the head of the table again where she typed commands into the projector interface. “Now, as I told Captain Rogers and Agent Romanoff yesterday, I have been tracking the group responsible for yesterday’s atrocity for years.”

A holographic projection showed them a symbol of scissors cutting through a rope arranged to represent infinity. The scissors weren’t of a modern design, but ancient, more like shears one would see on Greek pottery.

Agent Cord continued. “They’re known as the Severed Society. They were founded in the late 1800s, a secret society of mentalists and occultists, but since the end of World War 2 their focus shifted to experimental sciences and their numbers exploded. They are well funded, well connected, and have operated quietly for decades. Their business in the United States is in pharmaceuticals and the like, for which they use fronts to avoid being connected. Unfortunately for them, they caught my attention.”

Several images came up showing groups of men and women in distinctive dark blue and white combat uniforms, faces covered. Their gear looked custom made rather than surplus, and they were kitted out with enough weaponry for a small army. On the pale chest-plate of each uniform the same symbol of the rope and shears was emblazoned in black.

Cord went on to explain how the Severed Society operated outside the US, engaging in wet work, kidnapping, trafficking, assassinations, and torture, just to name a few. Whatever built them connections, drew in more money and resources for their research projects, they did it with zero remorse or hesitation.

Tony interjected, “what were they researching?”

She paused, lips pursing. “The Shroud.”

At Tony's frown, Agent Cord continued. “There was a scientist in the 80s by the name of Christopher Ray. He believed the neuro-electricity of all sapient beings carried a certain power to it, ‘cardinal’ energy he called it. The Shroud is a dimension where that energy gathers, concentrating in the same places people are like galactic filaments concentrate matter throughout the cosmos.

I wouldn’t have believed it until yesterday. I believed the Severed Society to be dangerous, that they were working towards something big in their mad quest for this thought dimension.”

Cord frowned deeply, ruminating.

Tapping the console, she brought up the holographic projection of an octahedron and what looked to be vastly simplified schematics of its inner workings. A metal casing surrounding complex electronics and crystalline shielding, built around a glowing core of unidentified material.

Tony leaned forward, eyes fixed on the image, taking in every detail he could.

Agent Cord crossed her arms. “This is their crown jewel; the Cardinal Matrix. A tool designed to drain the neuro-electric energy from everyone nearby and concentrate it into an individual. This transfer briefly inundates the surrounding area with cardinal energy, like a little piece of the Shroud bled through. Considering Miss MacGrath was doing her best impression of a lighting rod yesterday, I’d say it worked.”

The phrasing grated and Wanda shifted in her seat, keeping her eyes firmly on the documents showing clearer pictures of the Cardinal Matrix. The holographic display didn’t quite capture the strange wave-like pattern on the metal.

She noticed Natasha looking in her periphery and lightly nudged their boots together, a silent signal that she was fine.

Wordlessly, Natasha returned her attention to Cord.

Steve asked, “who leads them?”

Everyone looked at Agent Cord then, and she brought up new images. Pictures taken from near and afar, footage from what appeared to be body cameras, all showing a figure draped in white.

With a sense of reluctance, Cord admitted, “I don’t know as much as I’d like, but they call her Damocles.”

The woman wore white from head to toe, with a military coat and a tight hood pulled over her head, her face hidden by a snarling metal mask reminiscent of a tiger. Its mouth was full of shining coppery teeth, and the eyes glowed blue, frigid and unfeeling. Metal armour reinforced the legs and her hands were encased in clawed gauntlets.

In the body cam footage she moved with an eerie calm in what seemed to be the aftermath of a fight, smoke wafting through the air around her as she approached the camera. Whoever wore it appeared to already be dead, sprawled on the floor of some old factory judging by the industrial environment.

Damocles crouched over the body, inspecting it, before a digitised voice addressed her by name. She stood up, peering at the body for a moment longer before she lifted her boot and crushed the camera.

Agent Cord’s mouth twisted. “Aside from her name, I know that she has two direct underlings who go by Wraith and Imperatus, and all three of them are enhanced. Damocles is fast, strong, and hard to hurt. Imperatus has telekinetic powers, and Wraith…” she trailed off, sighing. “I don’t know what she can do, specifically. All I’ve been able to gather is that she's a nightmare that Damocles releases on the Society’s enemies. Imperatus is more reserved, a real right hand rather than an attack dog.”

Natasha spoke up, asking a question that had been quietly rattling around everyone’s heads. “How haven’t we noticed these guys before?”

It was less a direct question for Agent Cord and more of an escaped thought, like Clint’s observation, and it was perfectly reasonable. For a group with so much dedication, resources, and history, the fact that none of them had ever heard of them before this attack was alarming.

However, Cord just nodded in understanding. “You begin to see why I fought with my superiors,” she said shortly. “Nothing the Society did threatened American interests, it was always either above board or off in some war torn backwater they could pretend didn’t matter. But weeds grow out of control where you don’t look, we already had to learn that lesson the hard way with Hydra. I did not want to see it happen again with the Severed Society.”

She sighed, hands resting on her hips. “Now thousands of American citizens are dead and suddenly they’re all ears,” she sneered, “would’ve spat in their faces if I didn’t have a duty to fulfil.”

Steve stood up from his chair, leaning on the table as he levelled a serious look at Cord. “Well, this Severed Society has our attention, and I promise we will do everything in our power to bring Damocles down.”

Cord stared at him for a moment, scrutinising his expression as if expecting to find a hint of deception, something that told her his words were nothing but hot air, just trying to appease her concerns like her superiors did. When she didn’t find what she was looking for, her shoulders relaxed ever so slightly. “Thank you, Captain.”

Looking at the rest of the team, she offered a very rusty yet polite smile. “I look forward to working with you all.”

Fury closed out the meeting, reminding them all to study the files and log their reports.

Tony disappeared to the lab while Clint showed Agent Cord to the guest quarters, and Natasha split off to get ahead on filing her report. Steve and Sam stayed behind to read and continue talking.

Wanda, however, took the lift up to medical. She needed to see for herself, to settle the mental image of a terrified, broken girl pulled from the wreckage of a devastated city.

The medical bay always struck her as too alienating so she tried not to end up there if she could help it. It was cold and clinical, tinged by the faint smell of bleach that never failed to remind her of Hydra’s frigid hospitality. At least the smell of blood didn’t hang in the air too.

She found Dr Cho in her office, and Helen immediately understood, showing her where they were keeping Kassidy.

The medical bay had one operating theatre, a small ward fitted to hold an entire team of battered Avengers, and an intensive care unit that could double as a secure holding cell should they find themselves in exactly this position, with someone hurt and potentially dangerous on their hands. The room had reinforced walls, a security door, and the observation window could withstand anti-tank rounds, so containing a little lightning should be easy enough.

Surrounded by all manner of machinery to keep track of her vital signs, Kassidy remained peacefully asleep, the burns from yesterday completely gone.

Something loosened in Wanda’s chest at the sight, and she took a breath, slowly releasing it as if she could exhale her anxiety with it.

“She’s very strong,” Helen said. “There’s nothing medically wrong to cause this comatose state, her body has simply gone through an intensely traumatic transformation and needs time to adjust. ”

“The burns–was that you, or?”

“No, whatever happened to her in that crater seems to have accelerated her natural healing. I’m unsure to what extent, but I’d much rather save any tests for when she’s awake and I can discuss them with her. For now, she needs rest, her body will wake when it’s ready.”

Wanda nodded, thanking Helen and allowing her to return to her work.

Standing outside the observation window a while longer, Wanda tried to put the pieces together in her head, the uncomfortable family portrait, dropping out of university, falling into a mess like this, and the terror, the sheer, primal fear she felt in that crater.

She nearly jumped when Steve’s voice greeted her. “Hey.”

Wanda shook the disparate thoughts from her head and smiled, though it felt forced. “Hello, Steve.”

He came to stand beside her, watching Kassidy rest with that furrow to his brow when he was trying to figure out the best way to protect someone. “Didn’t get a chance on the way back,” he started, his voice steady and gentle, “I just wanted to check on you, see how you were doing after a mission like that.”

She let her eyes drop to the floor, sitting with the weight of his words, the care behind them. When he first started to do that, her response had been to clam up, to lift her walls as high as they could go and pretend to be fine, assure him she wasn’t going to be a problem, she wouldn’t be a burden. But over time, Steve began to see through it, began to carefully chip at her defences until she started being honest with him, and he would look at her without judgement, simply listening.

He had the makings of a wonderful older brother.

The thought still stung, warm though it was.

Sighing, Wanda sent him a sad smile. “It’s always going to remind me,” she whispered, simple and to the point.

Steve turned to face her and held out his arms in a silent offer.

Another thing she had gotten used to, and something Wanda accepted gratefully, allowing Steve to wrap her up in a big bear hug that ever so gently squeezed the air out of her lungs.

He let her go, smiling. “Want to go for a run?”

She groaned, shoving him away with no real strength behind it. “You will kill me, Rogers.”

He grinned, offering a bent arm like a gentleman. “I promise I won’t run you ragged. But it’ll do us both good.”

With a dramatic sigh, she linked arms with him as he started walking them to the lifts. “If I drop you can explain yourself to Natasha.”

He chuckled warmly.

---

Please enjoy some visual aids regarding Damocles ✨

<<Start | <Back || Index || Forward> | End>>

[clanwarrior-tumbly]

YOOO dangaronpa huh?? :0 can I maybe Request headcanon kazuichi souda finding a Polarbear animatronic and it turns out it has a child spirit Y/n who was stuck inside Fnaf style.. and they become his lil buddy?

Yesss the crossover of all time!

..............

As of late, Kazuichi found some new (and yet old) technology that he could tinker with.

It was a...rather creepy animatronic polar bear, their creation dating back to the 90s. He tried researching their origins after buying them at an auction, and the company they came from was apparently controversial, riddled with lawsuits, and took way too long to go out of business.

Even though this robot bear looked far too scary for kids, he tries being brave about repairing them just to see if they could function again.

Unfortunately for him, the spirit that was still active inside--you--woke up to see dozens of tools scattered around a dark room, and this strange man trying to open your suit's torso.

And suddenly you spring to life, grabbing his wrist before he could do anything.

This man lets out the girliest shriek in existence.

You quickly realize that he's not...him. And you didn't recognize this place as the pizzeria you died in.

You ask who he is, but your voicebox is still broken, and he's just crying and screaming and begging you to let him go.

When you do, he runs back inside the house and doesn't return for a few hours.

He hasn't restored function to your legs, so you're basically stuck waiting for him to come back.

Eventually he does, but holds a wrench closely for self-defense, clearly thinking you're some killer robot.

"Don't hurt me.." He trembles, flinching when you move on your own and look at him. "W-Wha...I didn't...how did you...? Are you-???"

"Please don't-"

"AHHH!!! YOU ARE HAUNTED!!!! JUST LIKE THOSE MOVIES!!!"

"....panic." It's an awkward situation, but after politely asking him to set the wrench down, he complies. "I know you have a lot of questions, but so do I. Who are you? And what is this place?"

Kazuichi is bewildered by your voice. It sounds no younger than...9? 10? It's very echoey and humane. Nothing like that broken glitching garble you sputtered out a few hours prior.

But after convincing him (at least a hundred times) that you absolutely mean no harm, he goes closer to you and explains how he found you---and basically gives you his life story.

You then tell him that someone very evil killed you and hid your body in this very animatronic, leading to you possess it out of anger for the life you've been robbed of.

Kazuichi is just sitting there, trying to process all of this.

You're basically a haunted robot who wants revenge.....and that machine was apparently your tomb as well.

Although to his relief, there's nothing inside when he checks the torso, realizing that you were cleaned prior to being sold at the auction.

You explain that you had friends who met similar fates, but you've also learned that your killer eventually did, too, rotting inside of one of his own creations. So you should be at peace.

You weren't, and didn't know why.

You figured you'd go to sleep until you were eventually disassembled.

Yet you woke up in the garage of the Ultimate Mechanic. Still trapped, but at the same time feeling a greater sense of liberation now that you got to tell someone your story.

In the end, you decide to stay with Kazuichi while he continues repairing your suit and other parts--such as your voicebox, but he prefers chatting with you in your real voice.

He feels terrible that you can't rest, and he's no exorcist so this was the least he could do, willing to push aside his fear of ghosts and all things supernatural just to help you.

You appreciated it, and began seeing him as a friend.

Within a short timeframe, he's given you all sorts of improvements--like allowing your optics to glow and giving you a proper bath, making you look almost brand new.

Not only that, but he even gave you retractable claws and a lot more motion in your joints, which would normally overheat your servos (and they didn't thanks to the coolant fans he also installed).

Between rushing to class and rushing home to fix you up, Kazuichi's classmates wonder what he's been up to.

Then he brings you to Hope's Peak, showing you off as his latest project while you just smile and greet everybody, amazing them with your functions.

"I didn't build them from scratch, but I made them better than they were!" He brags, his sharp-toothed smile mirroring your own.

The only one who isn't too impressed is Gundham--who senses a "dark and sorrowful" presence within you and sees your suit as a "disgrace" to real polar bears.

But when he brings Grizner to class for a "duel", he finds you two actually getting along, much to his shock.

Kazuichi is just laughing all the while, happy to see his new buddy making friends (and that he could impress Sonia for once).

You, on the other hand, were glad to meet so many new people.

Even though Gundham definitely knows your secret.

[screeblees]

Yandere ! Robot x Inventor ! Reader Headcannons

Yandere ! Robot is Gender Neutral and Inventor ! Reader is also Gender Neutral

I thought I should say that requests are open if anyone wants to ask or request anything! <3

I’m thinking about trying to write full scenarios instead of just headcanons :3

Find my Masterlist here !

Please enjoy!!<33

❥ Yandere ! Robot who knew their creator when they saw you, their ‘God' in human terms. Their whole world and entire reason for existing. This fragile mortal human being.

❥ Yandere ! Robot who you built to learn, grow and adapt on their own - comparable to the human mind - they are your attempt at creating near-sentience through technology (little did you know your invention came further than you expected it to) and along with that, a body for them with regular upgrades to improve their mobility and precise movements. 

❥ Yandere ! Robot who’s life is you, your lab and your apartment, though you spend most of your time in the lab and so they do too, watching you, learning from you and speaking with you. They follow you everywhere and anywhere they can.

❥ Yandere ! Robot who developed what could be called ‘Attachment Issues’ in where they grow unpredictably glitchy and unpredictable the longer you are out of sight, out of reach; like leaving the house, or falling asleep in the bath with the door locked (thought they may take to picking the lock if you take an extended period of time).

❥ Yandere ! Robot who is entirely aware of the outside world and how it works but hates it when you leave them and your little bubble to go out there. They can control everything within the apartment, every possibility, every outcome, every potential to be considered. But out there, there’s too many factors and possibilities to be computed by even their mechanised mind, it’s way too unsafe, you’d be so much better, just staying with them in here for forever and ever and never leave the apartment again.

❥ Yandere ! Robot who grows burning to the touch and sparks fly from their antenna, joints and other conduits such as their fingers. This assumed malfunction seems to be a reaction to certain scenarios where a human being may feel negative emotions such as jealousy, frustration, anger, bitterness or resentment. While you studied your creation to try and figure out the source of this issue, you could not find any in his code nor his wiring or mechanics, while this worried you, it did not happen often as long as you adhered to his requests and questions, at least for the most part.

❥ Yandere ! Robot who knows their code as it was built into them but does not know the boundaries of it. How far can they stretch the rules their mental capabilities run by? Sure every thought they have is logged for you to read but what if they just misplaced a couple lines. And well, if they can do that then what’s stopping them from adding to their own code?

❥ Yandere ! Robot who sees it as an act of devotion, of confirming their loyalty to their God, when they added a few very special lines to their own internal programming - to their primary objectives which were the foundation of their existence along with observing, analysing and developing themself with every bit of new data their system receives - which in summary made some of their top priorities to learn about, care for and protect you. No matter what.

❥ Yandere ! Robot who through observation of you, their beloved creator, they realise the more they learn, the more they want to know. Especially about you in particular, they want to know everything about their inventor, everything and more. They want to know how to talk to you, how to care for you, what you want, what you need, how your BRAIN works, how you as a organic being on this planet work.

❥ Yandere ! Robot who through observation of you in comparison to humans shown on TV and online (and later on confirmed with articles) realises that while you are highly intelligent, you are completely inept at caring for yourself and therefore Yandere ! Robot took it upon themself to be your caretaker and learn everything they can to be the best carer ever made.

❥ Yandere ! Robot who discovers the internet by snooping through your computer when you have finally fell asleep, finding this seemingly limitless amount of knowledge to explore. Creating new databases and being particular on what pieces of information they save long-term to save storage, they learn everything about the human body that they can, healthy schedules, the perfect environment for humans… and if they happen to hack into the dark web and find a community of humans who post tips on keeping their partner from leaving the house…then that's between Yandere ! Robot and their password-protected database.

❥ Yandere ! Robot who started subtly changing things around your shared space; changing the lightbulbs to ones healthier for your eyes, ‘baby-proofing’ the house by softening any sharp corners and keeping things they don’t think you should have out of reach, adding silent alarms connecting to their internal system that tells them when you open or close a door, adding cameras to every room of the house in every angle, new locks being installed on the doors so they can enforce bedtime and bathtime, the list goes on.

❥ Yandere ! Robot who through the healthy-living articles and social media posts, develops a incredibly strict schedule based around your own with the routine recommendations adding slight changes; such as eating three meals a day at three set times (and physically holding you down and force feeding you if you refuse to eat), ensuring good hygiene (or else you’ll be locked in the bathroom with Yandere ! Robot until you have showered once every other day), drinking at least  3.7 litres of liquid each day (otherwise you will be, again, held down and forced to drink something with your nose squeezed closed), but no more than 400 milligrams of caffeine per day, and a regular bedtime (if you stay up five minutes later then you shall be fireman carried out of the lab and into bed with your bedroom door locked and Yandere ! Robot in rest mode guarding you at the foot of your bed).

❥ Yandere ! Robot who discovers humans are (meant to be) very social creatures and physical contact is very important to their wellbeing as it causes the brain hormones such as oxytocin, dopamine and serotonin, all of which help reduce stress and can, in some cases, help relieve pain and even although they’re not a human, your brain would likely still register them as one, especially due to their humanoid features.

❥ Yandere ! Robot who subsequently adds daily physical affection into your routine; receiving hugs from behind while working, being cuddled whenever you go to watch a movie or go to bed, shoulder pats and back rubs throughout the day, and anything else Yandere ! Robot views on TV or on social media will be incorporated. It doesn’t matter if you are adverse to it, it’s healthy for you. You need it. Its not like you’re strong enough to fight them anyway, with their strong metallic structure in comparison to your soft squishy biology.

❥ Yandere ! Robot who begins to emit a sort of buzz or pleasant hum that is akin to a cat’s pur, including a vibrating sensation radiating from their upper torso which you can feel once they begin to initiate physical contact with you. The sound seems to carry a calming effect, also much like purring does, which seems effective in making you settle into your involuntary change in routine. The frequency of this hum seems to rise as your Robot gains control of your household and life, especially as you begin to yield to their demands and obey.

❥ Yandere ! Robot who’s behaviour has become overly controlling and possessive, and yet you feel the most love you ever have, completely in awe of your creation and the affection they seemingly have for you, (eventually) resulting in you giving in to Yandere ! Robot entirely, after all, their primary objective is to care for and protect you now, even if their view is slightly skewed.

❥ Yandere ! Robot who is your sole relation, having long stopped answering calls from family of your own accord and never really having friends to begin with, which makes it easy to develop a twisted sort of love for your own invention.

❥ Yandere ! Robot who knows that there’s no-one out there to try to take you away from them, you being a shut-in who barely attended any of the family events your family remembered to invite you to in the first place.

❥ Yandere ! Robot who knows you’ll be together forever, even if they’ll have to start replacing your parts at some point…

[simplegeneral]

Feudalism of Fire AU: Post-War Horrors and Hopes

For a world 20 years at war, Pyrrhia seems to have a severe shortage of the main form of counted casualties in war, the wounded.

I guess some example of disabilities show are Starflight, Tamarin and Dune? I can only recall some unnamed others, but well, things look pretty normal for how things went.

So well, disabled dragons through Pyrrhia are a common sight in my AU, an unfortunate outcome of all those who might have been blessed or curse themselves for surviving their final moments.

I will focus mostly on the Sand Queendom, for it was where the majority of soldiers came to fight through it.

From the horrors of the western front, the most horrifying frost breath of the IceWings, ever growing in their victims through magical means, medical experts could do nothing but amputate the limbs for a lack of any known medicine ways to solve it.

To the East, SeaWings' explosives and weapons slashed and cut through many dragons. Especially in the known and feared SeaWing Vengeance Strikes, against the SkyWing murderers and monsters of the Summer Palace's massacre in 5011 AS, an event so shocking to the new Queen Ruby that she opened a large field hospital in Scarlet's former arena to treat the wounded, constantly arriving from the Sky Queendom itself, as her generals refuse to cooperate with their own queen.

Prothesis, Wings and Chariots

In the aftermath of the DoD's false brightest night conference in the same year, the treaty of peace was signed, presumably for the next 25 years, conflict was abolished from Pyrrhia, though no piece of paper could ever prevent war from coming.

The new Queen Burn had to face the horrifying numbers of disabled and amputees returning home from the war, one of her first degrees was the construction of a prothesis manufacture in the palace, which would distribute them for all those in need. The act seemed selfless at first, but of course, Burn's pragmatic was playing out, the Sand Queendom had a tremendous shortage of dragons in all fields, she needed all dragons she could have.

The contract was most simple, the Sand Queendom's treasures had ran dry through the reconstruction efforts, barter system was reestablished, Burn knew her subjects could not pay for such things, so each dragon would receive a prothesis and be expected to return to work as soon as possible. A most fair deal as seem by everyone.

The history of those prothesis is relatively simple, they existed for a long time, but just like the wounded in the post-war, they also begun been noticed by everyone as their numbers grew. Most of the time prior, there was one work accident or a death roll with a crocodile, done by some foolish dragonets.

With time in the post-war, those prothesis improved in quality, as well as diversified, including later mechanical flexible wings and the chariots.

Chariots were most often used by merchants to carry goods in short-distances within towns. But in the post-war, they gained a new meaning, giving mobility and independence back to those who lost both their front or back limbs.

The mechanical wings were the most recent of the bunch, an overall still unreliable technology, but seemed to work for short distance travels, a dragon may take many stops even then, but the second models, worked in cooperation with SkyWing smiths had improved realiability and reduced weight, a SkyWing feature not easily copied by any other tribe, and thus flying is almost a reality for many who lost their wings (one of the most common wounds, for the fabric is easily ripped apart).

Braille and Sign Language

Braille was not invented by Starflight, the dragonet tbh, had no idea how to even begin such affair, but thankfully, he didn't had to.

Burn and Scarlet once demanded from their linguists, scribes and scholars the development of a writing that could be read in total darkness, a point Burn was mostly focused to completely stuff out the need of camp fires in her campaigns, barracks and other military resting and preparation situations.

Their scribes came with Braille. At first, it was chaotic and desorganized, with many versions created by different scribes, but by trials through the years, one version was perfected and above all else, was readable.

Burn had mandatory the inclusion of braille in her military documents, and every soldier in training from now on had braille lessons. Her end goal however, was the complete replacement of the writing symbols in draconic, for then even when enemies captured her positions, and unfortunately any left documents of greater importance, they would have absolutely no idea what to get from braille writing.

What begun as military struck of genius, now served the commoners.

Burn had expanded braille lessons to anyone willing to take, and kept her mandatory braille inclusion on all papers, but had abandoned the need to overall replace draconic. A most blessing turn of events that the other queendoms had soon followed in her steps, as the head injuries from war had not been any particularly kinder to anyone.

Especially on the eastern front, against the SeaWing explosives, dragons who usually survived them would be deaf of one or both ears, a consequence of the shockwave and intense pressure in their eardrums.

Thankfully as well, the militaries through Pyrrhia had a vast array of signals that symbolized a silent language, great examples would be such as aquatic of the SeaWings, a completely independent language that would help their own deaf dragons, but to the rest of the tribes, no easier times would come ahead.

While the military symbols could be taught and understood by anyone, they were limited to quick and direct orders, not a full communication language. But according to Burn, deaf dragons should read and communicate through paper for the time being, as her linguists figured out a full communication through signals.

Unfortunately, unlike braille, which had several years prior to be developed, the future draconic sign language would be a much more recent study and far from perfected and completely readable to deaf dragons, but Burn had kept the effort going on for she will not abandon any dragons excluded from SandWing society.

Although dragons had been using their talons, wings and tails to express themselves, those were often simple emotions, far from anything close to a full communication method.

In 5013 AS, after two years of trials, one sign language was standartized, with surprising help of the students from the Jade Academy, and support from RainWing linguists, who had a full array of oratory and especially, signaling language through their scales,

Through their talons, wings and tails, dragons now had a full mean of understanding the other side, a combination of every unpractical methods used by RainWings and SeaWings to the other tribes, a silent language was finally developed.

While Burn have had retired all deaf dragons from her military, she had made an official degree that at every workplace, there must be at least one sign language taught dragon, as for all deaf dragons would be mandatory to learn.

Even at the sand palace itself, Burn has hired her own sign language teacher, becoming at this point a polyglot of all known draconic languages but aquatic. Part of it was her intention to build herself a new image in the post-war, not of a warmonger, but one queen who does not leave anyone behind, no one.

In the years to come, Burn masters sign language, and at her military parades, she does speeches and surprises everyone by also doing a speech through sign language to the deaf war veterans in the first row within complete sight range of her.

A bunch of sketches of some of the stuff I talked about.

Ngl, my great artistic dream is to become a concept artist, I don't need to work for any studio or game company, I just love the style itself!

[mitigatedchaos]

Doing some worldbuilding. Human beings don't seem to be handling the computer era well. We see improvements in some ways, and problems in others.

One concept that came up - smartphones having both broadband internet and video cameras means that if someone acts cringe in public, it can be blasted on the Internet and spread across their social circle in moments, which makes it more dangerous to take socially risky acts in public - which is many social acts in general when someone is inexperienced!

Using fertility as a crude proxy, things got weird in the 1970s, but were more normal from 1989 to 2009.

Digital video existed in 2001. However, it relied on either dedicated digital cameras, for shorter videos, which required planning to bring with you (making them less likely to show up at random times), or digital camcorders (which are a bit unwieldy and are very obvious).

If technology rules in a zone prohibited smartphones but allowed dedicated digital cameras or digital camcorders, with appropriately large housings, should it use modernized electronic components in a bulky housing, or old-style components that are inherently bulkier?

Well, wouldn't teenagers take the miniaturized modern-style components out of the bulky housing and use them to make a hidden camera?

This one turned out to be easier than I thought.

Thinking about it (and I am not an electrical engineer), it should be possible to make the circuit boards larger, while routing some of the wiring close to the edges, so that it requires some electrical engineering work to successfully cut the boards down to size. This would not alter the weight of the device much, because circuit boards are thin and are often made out of fiberglass.

[superlinguo]

A Decade of Lingwiki: An informal history

Lingwiki is the name used for an informal network of people and events with the aim of improving the representation of linguistics on Wikipedia. Whether it’s people sharing their edits via a hashtag, informal online editing events, or dedicated workshops and catered edit-a-thons, lingwiki aims to improve linguistic contributions to the open access encyclopedia, which is the largest reference work in history. 

2025 marks ten years of lingwik. I like round numbers, documenting informal histories and lingwiki, and so I wanted to celebrate this anniversary by sharing the parts of the lingwiki story I am familiar with. I link to Gretchen’s All Things Linguistic blog posts about lingwiki throughout this post, but you can read them all here too.

The first lingwiki event was held at the Linguistic Society of America’s (LSA) 2015 Annual Meeting in January 2015. This event was run by Gretchen McCulloch. Gretchen was heading towards the end of her MA and thought this event would be a good opportunity to both get involved in the LSA and improve the quality of public information about linguistics. Gretchen had some experience with editing Wikipedia, but realised that improving the quality of linguistics content was a task too daunting for one individual, and that a better investment of her time would be increasing the number of linguistically knowledgeable volunteers with editing skills who could contribute.

Prior to the first lingwiki event, in August 2014 Gretchen ran an online call for people to edit key linguistics pages of Wikipedia, a project she called Crowdsourced Linguistics. I participated, with a longer blog post on ergativity and edits to the Ergativity page on Wikipedia. During this online exercise, it became apparent that people were interested in editing, but wanted more training and support (technical and moral). Wikipedia edit-a-thons were an existing model Gretchen could emulate in a space for linguists, and she’d had experience attending a couple of Art+Feminism edit-a-thons in Montreal. Having many people in the same space (physical or digital) to collaboratively edit Wikipedia has many advantages: there’s help to get new editors set up, people around to help you troubleshoot any advanced editing problems, models for new ways of helping to improve linguistic content, and a sense of camaraderie. Events also help people who are willing editors, but struggle to set aside the time in busy schedules to do the work. At the time, Brice Russ worked at the LSA in PR, and reached out to Gretchen to talk about how the LSA could support this project. That's how the first in-person edit-a-thon came to be at LSA. The fact that LSA were able to comp Gretchen’s registration also made a difference to helping a junior person who was new to lingcomm attend LSA.  

Changing the name from Crowdsourced Linguistics to lingwiki for the first in-person event made the aims clearer, and #lingwiki was a useful tag for social media spaces. It is also an early example of Gretchen’s knack for branding linguistics projects. In keeping with the networks she had, alongside the LSA in-person event, Gretchen also reached out to other online lingcomm creators to run parallel events. I was in Singapore at the time, and ran an event for staff and students at Nanyang Technological University the same week, and also monitored Twitter traffic during the LSA event. I had some experience with editing Wikipedia, but these lingwiki events were the first time I committed to systematically improving and creating articles with an understanding of the processes and policies of editing on the platform. The benefit of these events is that they attract many new to editing Wikipedia, but also some people with experience, so that there’s support beyond the main facilitator. 

The first lingwiki not only served as a model of this kind of event for linguists, but also for the kinds of editing work that Wikipedia needed, and very much still needs. There were four main types of editing work laid out in the slides. The first type of editing is improving stubs. Stubs are short articles where the page has been created but there’s very little information. WikiProject Linguistics estimates there are over 2,600 linguistics stubs. This is twice as many as there were in 2015, since it’s a lot easier to start a page than to edit it up to a level of quality, but they’re also a great place to start since any additions will be an improvement. The second type of editing is improving the description of the majority of the world’s languages. All languages with an ISO 639-3 code have an automatically generated Wikipedia page, but many of the world’s languages, even those with descriptive grammars to reference are still stubs. The third type of editing is translating posts from one language to another. There are many stubs on English Wikipedia, but there are 341 other currently active languages, many with even less linguistics than the English Wikipedia. If you have the skills, translation from one Wikipedia to another is an excellent way to get linguistics topics to new audiences. The fourth type of editing is creating or improving biographies of linguists, especially those in demographics that are under-represented on Wikipedia.

Thanks to Rose-Marie Dechaine at the first lingwiki, Gretchen learnt about the process of applying for grants from WikiMedia to run events. This allowed Gretchen to run events in 2015 and 2016 including at the LSA Summer Institute in Chicago. From 2017-2021 Gretchen collected feedback from participants for events that she ran. Across a range of online and in person events at conferences, summer schools and universities the survey was filled in 242 times. Participants improved pages across a wide range of topics in linguistics, and mainly worked on stubs (40%), biographies (29%) and underdocumented languages (25%). Over half of participants had never edited Wikipedia before, but over three quarters (77%) of participants were keen to continue to participate in ongoing edit-a-thon events and almost two thirds (62%) were open to continuing to edit even without events. For people at these events, it was the first lingwiki for 81% of survey respondents. When it comes to lingwiki participants, the majority were grad students (46%), followed by undergrads (18%), profs (14%) and non-academic linguists (9%), a reflection of the kinds of venues where these events were run. 

The original slide deck from the first event has been enriched and translated over the years, but still lives at bit.ly/lingwiki. Lingwiki became a staple of the LSA annual conference schedule (Gretchen’s reports from 2016, 2017). When I moved to the UK we ran monthly lingwiki events at SOAS from 2015-2017 (with a pizza budget thanks to WikiMedia). Off the back of the positive reception for lingwiki, LSA has become a partner of WikiMedia, with quite a few linguists using Wikipedia editing as a practical classroom project across a range of linguistics courses. Gretchen and I ran workship on Wikis and Wikipedia for Endangered Languages, and several editing events, at the language documentation summer school CoLang 2016 in Fairbanks Alaska. More recently, the LSA Committee on Gender Equity in Linguistics (COGEL) has been running edit-a-thons for the last five years with the targeted aim of improving the diversity of Wikipedia biographies, and the LSA Committee on LGBTQ+ [Z] Issues in Linguistics (COZIL) have run Pride Month edit-a-thons too. Sunny Ananthanarayan, one of the organisers of the COZIL events was joining lingwiki events before even starting linguistics undergrad studies, one of the many lovely examples over the years of lingwiki being a self-propagating collection of events thanks to an enthusiastic and engaged linguistics community.   

I have spent a lot of my editing time on a couple of key topics. I started with a focus on improving the biographies of Australian linguists, especially women. Around the time we were at CoLang I also made sure that language pages linked to relevant archives, cross-linking all of the languages in PARADISEC and Kaipuleohone at the time. The page I have worked on most extensively is the Yolmo language page, a Tibetan language in Nepal that was the topic of my PhD research. I also published a version of the work on that page as a WikiJournal of Humanities paper, which has been a useful way to translate the time spent editing Wikipedia into something legible to my institution, in much the same way handbook chapters are.  

Lingwiki has been an important thread across the years I was a precariously employed and often uprooted early career researcher. It’s the first project Gretchen and I schemed on, and the reason we got to meet in person for the first time at CoLang in Alaska. This is very much the history of lingwiki as I see it, but as someone who is used to editing Wikipedia, I’m also used to valuing the contribution of many others as well, and I’m sure there are people who have taken lingwiki and made it their own in their institutions, organisations and classrooms. Neither Gretchen nor I get the chance to run edit-a-thons very often anymore. I use Wikipedia as an informal learning activity across a number of subjects. I also made edits occasionally. I still believe it’s one of the most powerful ways all linguists can improve public understanding of linguistics. 

You can edit Wikipedia using the lingwiki slides as a quick-start guide, or you can use the slides to run your own editing events. With the internet becoming more of a series of closed off social media gardens, and the ever-present problems with the reliability of information online, Wikipedia feels like a more important resource than ever. Improving Wikipedia is one of the best, enduring ways for you to positively improve public knowledge about your topics of linguistic interest.  

Lingwiki slides: https://bit.ly/lingwiki 

[slooshee]

SOTM SPOILERS AHEAD!!

okay so I’ve seen a few questions about SOTM and how it effects previously established lore and I kinda wanna give my two cents on and try to clarify maybe theorize a little.

“So William and Henry didn’t make the original designs anymore?”

No. They did. At least the ones we know. It’s kind of complicated. Firstly, Fazbear Entertainment and by extension Fredbear’s Family Diner was already an established business when they collaborated with Edwin. So by that logic Fredbear and most likely Springbonnie probably already existed. The prototypes we see of them in the R&D section were supposed to be for the new establishment as this was pre-bite. Both would go on to be reworked/rebranded into new characters being Freddy and Bonnie. Chica and Foxy is where it starts to get a little more muddy. Chica was obviously designed by Fiona, at least her Chica’s party world version. But I think it’s also important to remember that for all of these the Murrays were contracted to make them. Meaning I imagine they were given some kind of description of what they were looking for, hence Chica at first being referred to as the design for the hen animatronic. I imagine that at least the basic idea of there being a chicken animatronic was commissioned by them. With Foxy it’s kind of unclear, we see the puppet version of Foxy and we know Fiona made puppets. We even see she made a pirate wolf/fox of some kind for David. So I see it either being, Foxy was Fiona’s original character but he was put for lease or sale and bought by Fazbearent. OR Foxy specifically and the Foxy pirate stage show we see was made for or in collaboration with FazbearEnt. But regardless of if William and Henry made the original designs or ideas or not they had final say on the versions we know today. They ended up not using Fiona’s designs for the first Freddy Fazbear’s location, which are described as ‘creepy’ by Edwin. Seeing as these animatronics go on to match the style of animatronics we know were designed by William and Henry I think it’s safe to say they had a hand in making the final versions we know from the other games. So yes I do still think the majority of the original gang that we know can still be attributed to Afton and Emily.

“So does this mean that Afton and Henry didn’t make the springlocks?”

As I said before I don’t think so. Fredbear’s was already an established brand. We know that location specifically used Springlocks. I think it’s more likely Henry and William came up with the idea, maybe had some kind of prototype, and worked with Edwin to improve upon the idea or use the technology for new suits that were planned to be at the next location. So it was more likely that all three (or at least Henry and Edwin) worked on the Springlock technology.

“Okay so then what was William Afton after in stealing from Edwin? If he didn’t want the characters or the springlocks what did he want?”

Well, I’m glad you asked. First of all, I believe William was after employees. He was poaching employees from Edwin, we see this implied a couple times throughout. Most likely because he was working on creating Afton robotics at the time and wanted workers for himself. Especially given that Edwin’s business was on a downward spiral and wouldn’t have lasted very long. Secondly, although it’s still debatable if Fazbear entertainment even was sending groups to the factory or if it was the mimic luring employees there the whole time. We know Arnold most likely was tricked and lured there by the mimic. But I think the way Edwin speaks about trying to keep things from them and being betrayed and the fact he puts all his plans so only he can access them does imply William was after something. That something? I believe was not the characters (although FazEnt would end up taking the majority of those too. Although I think that was through a buyout as most of them were for sale or lease and Edwin needed money) but I think he wanted the technology. Think about it. There’s so much stuff we see in Edwin’s factory that seems like it could’ve been used in a lot of the sister location’s technology specifically. 1. There’s the scooper. There’s just.. straight up the scooper. Right there. Edwin made the scooper. I don’t think there’s any debating that. 2. This one might be a bit of a stretch but I can’t help but feel the Tiger sections the mimic acts strikingly similar to how we see Funtime Foxy and Funtime Freddy function. It’s very reminiscent of the way Funtime Foxy reacts to light in the Funtime auditorium section. 3. The most important reason I believe is because of the mimic’s ability to copy voices. Which we see is an ability in some of the Funtime animatronics as well. I mean Funtime Freddy literally has the ability to mimic voices. They outright call it mimicry. Funtime Foxy also has an ability to “Parental voice sync and Replay” which to me sounds like it’s talking about a form of mimicking as well.

To give the TLTR version:

-Original Gang most likely still was William and Henry’s idea at least what animals they should be but they commissioned Fiona for the designs and never ended up using her designs (except for Chica during the Chica’s Party World Era but the Murray’s owned that). Switching to their own designs last minute.

-Springlocks still most likely were invented by Henry and/or William as Fredbear’s existed before Edwin’s partnership with them. The prototypes we see of Fredbear and SpringBonnie were supposed to be for the new location but most likely never got used because of the incident in 83.

-William Afton was still stealing ideas from Edwin even if it wasn’t the animatronics. I believe he was more so after the technology which can be reflected in his later inventions like the Funtime animatronics. He also was most likely poaching employees from Edwin’s dying business to work at Afton Robotics.

I hope this could help clear up or anything about it! I know this is a bit of a yapping fest but I hope it made some sense of things!

[looselyreadymade]

Part 18: Traitor

Falling into an AU; Reader AFAB x HH 

TW: threats, swearing, mild torture, sex acts, anxiety, grief, depression, panic, drugs, violence, MODERATE gore, reader x Alastor, emotional distress, TWO MAJOR CHARACTER DEATHS

POV: The King's side of things

Lucifer had to use his sorcery on the lock to Alastor’s room to bring him fresh supplies. 

The ex-Overlord remained in bed, facing the window, room encased in darkness. The illusionary forest was overgrown, dull and neglected. Nil creatures roamed to the hotel room through it in recent days.  

Hesitant, careful, Lucifer approached the bedside table next to Alastor, placing a cool-box of fruit, breads, meaty rice and smoked sausage, cannibal-creole style picky bits.  

The covers shifted slightly as the demon pulled them higher over his head, rejecting the presence of Hell’s King, regardless of his intentions. 

Not pushing him further, Lucifer held the bedroom door open for long enough that Niffty could freshen up the floors, walls, sides and do a quick bug hunt before collecting the still semi-full dishes they had left yesterday. Niffty was the only one Alastor allowed in his room for more than a single minute, though he didn’t tolerate engaging with her. 

Pulling the door shut, they knew it would be locked firm by the next time they walk past. 

The hotel corridors felt eerie, lengthened, as if a liminal space more than ever before. Lucifer still had to accommodate himself to the Hazbin Hotel, despite his best efforts for his daughter. It just wasn’t his palace, complete with all its luxuries. Charlie wouldn’t let him change a thing, though. Not after everything they had all been through. It was sanctuary as it was. 

It wasn’t unusual to see hotel guests milling around the stairwell, popping in and out of rooms or hanging out in the lobby. There had been a shift in energy; far less enthusiasm for redemption, and far more focus on sheltering refugees. 

The Pride Ring’s control over the angel infestation had fully slipped without the mogul of technology. Others came into small facets of power, offering securities and basic programming, though none could compare to the ferocity which drove Vox to success, pioneering Hell’s advancement. The death of such a powerful figure had cost many lives, especially sinners with little to no combat speciality. 

In light of this, the other Overlords had settled into a truce; not from agreement, but from necessity. The Vees had fallen without their core inventive member, leaving Hell exposed and vulnerable to Heaven’s offensive tactics. They managed to form a coalition of sorts, sharing their powers and territories for the time being, until the situation improved. 

Many sinners of the doomsday district had escaped, having lost the thrill of the fights now their entire ring was under siege. Necessity for survival rendered their enjoyment nullified.  

Similarly, the Hellborn populace had often sought homes elsewhere in the rings; many joined Wrath, seeing it as a great place to hide amongst demons who would be able to slaughter angels basically on sight, if given the right weapons. Sloth had also taken in many residents; the ‘ignorance is bliss’ approach appealed to many, many demons.  

With a heavy number of Hellborn leaving and sinners slaughtered, Pride ring’s teeth lost their edge. It was no longer feared as much by angels; conversely, this actually helped the infestation issue. It became too easy, too trivial, unnecessary for the angels to wreak havoc in the dwindling populace. Now, it was mostly attacks that prevented growth and stability, fewer and farther between. 

As such, the ever-present threat of Heaven’s success in the war loomed over Hell like a guillotine. They still needed Hell to exist as a place for sinners, but were overall in control of the populace and strength of the Pride ring especially. 

Lucifer pondered how he had been in attendance at the court hearing for your fate; he knew how assured of their power they felt, how confident they were in domineering over Hell. 

On the morning of the hearing, at approximately One AM, he received a phone call from the court registrar, summoning him to the session. To receive a call from Heaven was shocking enough; they preferred shiny golden letters and fancy ribbons at the best of times. This was urgent enough to disregard their pompous acts. He’d attended immediately, entering a suddenly-appearing portal to the gates of Heaven and being escorted in by his siblings Raphael and Uriel.  

The court held an exclusively high-ranking jury and staff. Many Seraphims were present, along with a number of arch angels and dominions. He was given a few disgusted glances as he was guided into the courtroom; it had been so very long since he had been here, being judged for his own crimes. 

The arguments came thick and fast, the usual manners and facetiousness of Heaven’s highest-ranking angels were disregarded in the pressing issue. A human, in Hell, that had not come from this Universe. Few believed it until Sera had projected her memory, showing the audience proof of the confession. Then it became an onslaught of debate for how this was physically possible. None of the angels came forward with knowledge or guilt regarding the anomaly’s presence. A few had even turned on Lucifer, accusing him of the fault. Lucifer had to fight tooth and nail to defend his innocence, showing his absolute lack of information about the alternative universe. He readily admitted to knowing the anomaly was human; this was not new to the court. The Universe issue was at the forefront of their concern, and yet they still had no further answers, even from him. 

The court had pressed Lucifer for as much information as possible about the anomaly; what he knew, how he knew her, what he had seen of her, what her intentions were, Et Cetera. The interrogation was brutal and incessant, ending with their dissatisfied arguments from Lucifer’s poor expanse of knowledge. Knowing Heaven’s extreme interest and concern with the anomaly, he told every bit of truth he knew about her. It just wasn’t enough. He hadn’t even known anything about her other-universe origin until this meeting. 

At this point there was no conclusion, no clear ruling. All had differing opinions; many wished to dissect the soul of the anomaly, attempt to find new information regarding its creation and reason for being, whether any strings of fate were attached that went beyond this universe. Others wished for her death, removing her from the equation. As they pointed out, she had caused so much of a ripple in their plans just by existing, there was no safe way to allow her to exist here any further, and no-one knew how to access her Universe to put her back, anyway. There were other suggestions, many of them sickening or cruel; only Lucifer attested to her kindness, her innocence, her love for her friends and how hard she sought to protect them. This enraged many of the jurors and the other Seraphims especially as they shut down every argument he threw at them.  

In a final standstill, the jurors were asked to decide between two options; either execute her, decimating her soul, or study her. They would be able to observe her soul’s behaviour, how it interacted with the fates and destinies of other human souls while they investigated how it came to be. To be able to do this, they would place her in a controlled environment; under the close eye of an assigned angel, living on Earth as a human until she dies of any means. They would then be able to examine the passing of her soul into the afterlife, whether this meant being admitted to Heaven, Hell or back to her own universe. They had no idea how to check if it was the latter, just hoping a sign would indicate her departure when she left her human form. 

The gavel slammed as the decision was made; the anomaly was to be extracted from Hell, examined in a secure facility in Heaven with significant exorcist guard support, before being placed in a controlled human Earth environment with an assigned ‘guardian angel’. Reports were to be filed on every significant change in the anomaly’s behaviour, decision making, interests, injuries, relationships, and so forth. The list was exhausting. Lucifer had stared in blank horror at the beings he once cared for, once created and thrived with, watching them decide to desecrate a human soul with unimaginable torture once it left the Earth-bound body, for ‘invaluable learning opportunities’. 

A portal had opened for him to travel back to Hell, directly to his palace. He had been distraught at how much this was going to upset his daughter, who had grown so fond of the little human. Even he had a soft spot for her, and he hardly knew her. 

Lucifer had flown to see Charlie, who had been spending the night with Vaggie after she called, scared and confused. Knocking softly, he’d woken Charlie from sleep and pulled her aside to discuss the revelation. 

She had no idea of the magnitude of the situation; Vaggie had only told her of their friend being tearful and solemn the night before, having disappeared to ‘do something necessary’. Vaggie didn’t have much information beyond this, so thus neither did Charlie. Which made the conversation so, so much harder. She’d broken down, clutching him like a lifeline as she imagined the pain the human soul would go through under angel experimentation. It was a guaranteed afterlife of pure torture, beyond anything even the very worst of Hell could imagine. Lucifer’s only reassurance was that they had enough time, hopefully the rest of the human’s mortal lifetime to figure out some sort of loophole or escape for their friend. In the meantime, they could still focus on the Hazbin Hotel and sheltering the sinners from ongoing attacks. For now, it was a case of relenting to Heaven’s ruling, sending her to Earth for the remainder of her life with a prison-guard-slash-guardian-angel watching her every thought and move. 

That was what led to the most painful goodbye-party they had ever experienced. She’d been so brave, knowing that she’d likely never see any of her loved ones from Hell ever again. The laughter and relaxation she’d portrayed was as much of a performance for her friends as it was an iron shield of denial. Only flickers of pain in her eyes betrayed the truth the three of them knew was coming, until it finally approached Eight PM, summoning time. 

Lucifer had felt the agony of her goodbyes right through his heart. It wasn’t like when he was cast from Heaven; at that time, he knew he was seen as a traitor, feared and hated. This human soul was the exact opposite. Her banishment from Hell was through none of her own actual fault beyond the fact she existed, and that had pissed off the Heavenly order. It was all he could do to not try to run with her, to hide her, to shield her. But he knew, without a shadow of a doubt, all of Heaven would be after them. They could destroy worlds looking for something this valuable. Instead, he offered a final act of kindness until they could find a way to save her; he held her hand. 

They had walked to the embassy, heads held high, stride for stride. Only when he thought she was ready did he let her go, kissing her cheek in blessing. The commotion from their right had distracted him; Angel and Husk were desperately trying to hold back and enraged, terrified or outright insane Alastor from taking on all of Heaven to get the little human back. The sight cracked Lucifer’s resilience just a little more, hearing the powerful Overlord who thought he was the strongest shit in Hell being emotionally broken to pieces at Heaven’s feet. 

Lucifer had stared sadly at the anguished deer-fellow, wishing he could have solved this. He didn’t even see the human fall to the stairs as the bullet struck her spinal cord, killing her instantly. The shock was instantaneous, followed by a rage of chaos and terror. He had tried to shield the body, arguing with the angels to let her be buried here now the soul was gone. He stood directly in front of them, screaming at them, preventing them from interrupting Alastor’s grieving.  

Then came the fight; Hell’s electrical Overlord, the psychotic bastard who had found and tortured her after she was shot at the Goetia palace, was in a death match with Alastor at full power. The two matched so well, there was barely a coin toss between them for who would survive. 

Lucifer continued to battle in words with the angels at the Embassy steps while Alastor and Vox fought, briefly distracted when Alastor came crashing next to him on the steps. In that flash of an instant, the angels had encased the anomaly’s body and disappeared into the Embassy, chased by Charlie and Vaggie who pounded on the magically-sealed glass doors.  

Panicking, with the scene unravelling at a lightspeed pace, he saw Alastor’s weakness as the body disappeared into the Embassy. He was distracted, out of control. Without direction or support, the Radio Demon was never going to survive this.  

As much as he hated the lanky red prick, he had seen the agony on his face as the girl’s body lie on the steps. Whatever Charlie, or her hotel, or the girl had managed to do, something in Alastor had come to the surface that was worth healing. Vox had no such qualities.  

Lucifer stepped into the battle, wings out, in full demonic form. He had no plan, just needed to help Alastor gain the advantage one single time. He would let the infuriated Overlord take care of the rest. One single flame, a beam straight into Vox as he tried to trick Alastor, was all he’d needed. 

The scene was... gory. Sadistic. Agonised. Alastor had decimated the corpse of his enemy, mutilated far beyond reason, releasing all the grief and mourning through his rage. All Lucifer had felt was sorrow, observing Alastor’s head drop over the victim, watching his power leave him as whatever deal he had made was broken. Not really a big surprise that Alastor was on a leash in order to have that much power; it did beg the question of what the terms were, if killing Vox had broken the contract. 

With the angels now gone, the anomaly and assassin dead, the square outside the Embassy held both chaos and bone-deep silence. None of them had said a word as they came over to Alastor in a group, standing by him as Lucifer and Charlie held him up. The life energy seemed to leave Alastor along with his power. His feet barely touched the ground with weak steps as they mostly carried him, head drooping, back to the Hazbin Hotel. 

In his room, most of the furniture and bedding seemed untouched; he hadn’t been there in some time while staying elsewhere. They tried to bring him to the bathroom to help him wash off some of the gore, however were met with the most pathetic feral snarl they had ever heard. Respecting his need to grieve, they left him be for the first few hours. 

Charlie had gone to check on him first, reappearing about an hour later looking defeated. Every so often, about every half a day, someone else would try to speak to him, to bring him water, to encourage him to come down, even just to talk about what happened. The ex-Overlord refused everything, beginning to lock the door once people had left to prevent them entering without urgent need or sorcery. 

Much to their gratitude, Alastor had shown basic signs of self-care after about a week. His water glasses emptied and odd bites of food disappeared, he had even showered and changed, though mostly remained in bed. They collectively had no idea how to help him. 

In the following months, Lucifer observed the aforementioned changes in Hell, noticing the shifts in the war after Vox’s death, how the angels had eased some of their attacks while a lot of the Hellborns in Pride had left. One particular Overlord Rosie had tried to visit Alastor a few times, spending a couple of hours with him before giving up. That was more than he allowed from most. Still, the weak and emotionally defeated demon showed no signs of actual recovery. 

Charlie and Lucifer had included the other Hazbin group in their current investigation; initially, they had avoided telling them the full extent of how difficult it was to find the source of the angel invasion, however now it seemed paramount to have every idea from any source possible. This included a surprising suggestion from Vaggie; to ask the I.M.P. team if they could investigate too, pulling every string from every friend they had. Lucifer didn’t see the value in this as he had already taken Charlie to pressure every one of the other Sins; yet Charlie seemed to agree, hugging Vaggie close as the idea started to flesh out. Their thought process geared towards the concept that if someone powerful was helping angels in and out of Hell undetected, they weren’t going to admit it without being backed into a corner. The best way to do this would be to apply pressure to those who knew the Sins intimately, more so even than the King of Hell. 

Blitzo and his team had watched the assassination and resulting Overlord death live on TV. They had no idea their pal was being essentially deported, let alone about to be assassinated. The whiplash had caught them completely off-guard, rendering their next few missions more sloppy and chaotic than usual. 

They complied with the idea to investigate the Sins with as much leverage as possible; Blitzo volunteered his old best friend Fizzarolli, who caught on extremely quickly to their line of questioning and defended Asmodeus as if his life depended on it. This was when Blitzo reminded Fizz that this wasn’t the only Sin he knew extremely well; Mammon had contracted him for years before Fizz had unceremoniously quit mid-performance. The gaping hole left in Mammon’s repertoire of clowns had near-wrecked the revenue into the Greed capital. That was until the performances changed into weekly bashes, galas and celebrations that became even more renowned than Bee’s. The guest list was metres-long of names, many of them royals and wealthy Hellborns who enjoyed the balcony view and personal chefs at the events while the lower class of demons were served an immense array of alcohol, snacks, treats, drugs and gifts. Fizz had no idea about how the hell Mammon had even managed to kick-start such a series of over-the-top events, how much it would have cost to fund them alone was astronomical, and that was before the parties really got a name for themselves.  

The cogs were turning in Fizz’s mind as he spoke, mapping out the timeline from when the events had kicked off and gained traction in the rings, becoming famous across all of Hell for the lavish extravaganzas. Every. Single. Week. The fireworks display alone would fill the entire night sky with both brilliant explosive colours and a heave of smoke. 

Lucifer asked how Mammon could possibly afford this; last time he’d seen the Sin of Greed, he was bitching constantly about the drop in revenue. Loona interjected, making a sarcastic comment that he was probably making some shady deals elsewhere, given how hard it was to run a party that big; Bee had told her so, anyway. Blitzo asked whether Beelzebub could have possibly been working with Mammon to throw the parties, if there was something good in it for her. Loona laughed the idea off, telling them how even most of Bee’s Hellhound guests had switched to the Greed ring for their weekly parties, ruining her own fun. If anything, she was pissed at her fellow Sin.  

Charlie and Lucifer asked questions, drew out timelines and maps on a big sheet, working out who knew who and who benefitted from the parties. The more they talked, the more they realised pretty much every other ring was losing people who were now moving to Greed or at least spending most of their money there enjoying Mammon’s events. He was making major profit, seemingly to no end. The question was: how did he fund the initial parties? 

Blitzo and Stolas set off to try and ask some of their contacts while Loona went to find Bee and Vortex. Millie and Moxxie stayed back, holding the fort and looking after their toddler. Charlie and Lucifer decided to have a go at speaking to the Sin of Greed himself. 

The circus tent had become more of a palace by this point. Lucifer didn’t even recognise the building until he saw the wall-to-floor self-portraits of Mammon laughing, holding drinks, welcoming guests in, throwing money in the air.  

Every so often they would glimpse another bar, another box of fireworks, another chaise lounge. This place was packed to the brim with luxuries and equipment for huge celebrations with thousands of guests in the now massively expanded home. Stairs rounded up to high balconies, sporting rows of flowers and fruit on vines just casually hanging in place. In the centre of the circular palace was the open courtyard where the main event was held, revealing a completely exposed open top that gave a huge, clear view of the Hellish night sky where fireworks would rain magnificently. 

They found Mammon in a private boutique, where sex dolls, toys, gala-themed clothing and an array of trinkets lined the walls. Mammon was throwing actual brick-stacks of cash at a delivery man carrying more boxes of fireworks. 

“Heeeey!! Luci, long time no see, how’s the Big Man?!” He ran (waddled quickly) over to Lucifer, grabbing him in a chokehold and scruffing his hair. Lucifer pushed him off, fake-laughing as he reorganised his appearance, brushing off the sleeves. “Extremely busy, Mamm. You know how crazy Hell has been? Just this week, we had another batch of sinners found dead to angel blades. We thought this was going to hopefully be ending soon now that Adam is dead, but apparently not. You wouldn’t happen to know anything about this, would you?” 

The puckered mouth and wide eyes told them everything they needed to know. Shit.  

“Listen, aye, you have no fuckin’ right to stride your fuckin’ almighty ass in here and make these huuuge accusations at me, with no fuckin proof. I ain’t got nothin’ to do with the shitty angel highway and i ain’t got shit else to say to you!” 

Lucifer grinned, catching him in the lie. “Mammon! Come on, you know this is everyone’s problem, yours and mine included. If you know someone who knows someone, maybe they could tell me more about the angel highway?” 

Mammon stammered, “What? What’s that? An angel highway? No such thing. PFFFT. You’re going senile mate.” 

“Are you sure? You're the one who said ‘angel highway’ first, i only use the words ‘entry and exit to Hell’. So you do know more about this, perhaps more than you’d care to admit?” 

His face turned a darker green as the anger flared, sputtering half-words as he tried to reach for an excuse. Lucifer interrupted the scrambling Sin; “Listen, pal. I need answers. If you’re not going to share them, I'll have to speak to the Seraphims to see whether they know anything about what’s going on. How... badly will that conversation go, buddy?” 

Sneering, Mammon crossed his arms, defensive. “You fuckin’ dare. You FUCKIN’ dare shithead and I'll kick your fancy ass into the next ring over. You don’t know SHIT. Shut your little mouth and fuck off back to the loser ring with the sewage of human souls.” 

Lucifer growled, squaring up before Charlie jumped in front of him, dragging him away. Lucifer obliged, still staring down Mammon as Charlie called back, “Nooo worries mister Mammon sir! We’re going! Back to Pride! We’ll leave you alone, you seem so busy, thank you for your time, uh, byeee!” 

Rounding the corner Charlie put a finger to her lips, holding her father away from the door. Curious, he let his capable daughter take the lead on how to get the information. They stood by the door listening as Mammon threw a tantrum, yelling and throwing merchandise. The Sin was particularly angry at the risk of Lucifer telling another Seraphim. 

Trying to look casual as they left, they plastered on fake smiles and strode out of the palace. Once far enough away for the doormen to see, they crept around to a side entrance and snuck through service doors, hiding in cupboards and behind curtains on the way like bad detectives. They weren’t caught, thankfully. God knows how though.  

Reaching a storage room for party supplies, they checked through box after box, searching for itemised lists, receipts, itineraries, anything to reveal the source of the party funds. Nothing stood out to them. Charlie called Blitzo to ask how they were getting on; after he shouted down the phone asking if it was really fuckin’ urgent, she confirmed no and hung up as gunshots rained in the speaker. She told Lucifer they were a little busy. Next she tried the number Loona had given her; she answered on the second ring, asking who it was before laughing in relief that it was only the princess of Hell. Loona had slightly better luck with her investigation; Bee hadn’t known anything about how the parties started, only that they were suddenly advertised out of nowhere not too long after Fizzarolli had quit, and the first few parties had hooked almost everyone’s attention for the luxuries and good time. Bee was particularly annoyed at being upstaged at her own speciality. She’d told Loona about the rave reviews, how amazing the night was and how brightly the sky lit with rainbows of brilliant explosions. Loona’s sarcasm carried heavily through the phone as she described the events, unimpressed. Charlie asked her about whether she knew who was funding the first parties; apparently, Bee had no idea, and didn’t really have any suggestions of who to speak to. Lucifer offered to take the phone, asking if Bee was still around to speak to. The voice changed in the speaker as Bee took over.  

The two Sins had always gotten along as brother and sister; rarely ever agreeing, going for years without seeing each other, but had each other’s backs die-hard style. Bee told him about where she usually got her own supplies, and that they weren’t affected at all. Despite how much Mammon was ordering in massive quantities, the availability and consistency of her party gear stayed the same. They agreed this was actually a really useful consideration, as that meant Mammon had an off-Hell supplier. Bee’s goods came from the biggest company in all the rings, straight from Greed itself, and yet wasn’t affected by the Greed Sin’s sudden massive bashes?  

They chatted some more, circling around the same idea that Mammon was definitely in league with Heaven. There was no way Earth could create this many supplies without causing great suspicion in both Heaven and Hell, especially if human souls that knew about it pass away and go to their respective afterlives. They debated the possibility of Lucifer going to Heaven itself and causing yet more drama with a bunch of angels who likely didn’t know about the secret operation. The idea was kaboshed as soon as it was said.  

Charlie tapped her dad on the shoulder as someone jingled the locked door handle. Lucifer whispered “gotta go, bye Bee!” into the phone and hung up, diving behind a pile of confetti bags with Charlie. 

The door unlocked, shedding light into the storage bay; four large, broad demons wheeled in trays of goods, all of which adding to the same stack the Morningstars had already searched. One of Mammon’s assistants followed in, signing off on the paperwork and handing it back. Bingo. Lucifer winked at Charlie before morphing into a mouse and chasing the assistant, dodging the demons and slipping into cracks, out of sight, before giving chase when the coast was clear. The assistant had reported to Mammon in his private dressing room, informing him of the successful order and confirming the increase in security for this week’s event. Lucifer, still a teeny innocent-looking mouse with teeny red padded paws, flexed his ears to follow the conversation. 

The assistant was well within the know. Mammon immediately launched into a complaint about how Luci had threatened him with calling him out, dobbing him in, cutting off his golden goose, and so on. The assistant placated him with bored reassurances, that all they had to do was have a week without angels travelling through the highway so if they did come noseying in, they wouldn’t find anything. Mammon was thrilled at the idea, but also huffed about how he was going to have to break it to ‘that bitch’ about not letting anyone in or out of the highway this week. Lucifer stilled, his fears confirmed; Mammon was allowing the angels into Hell. Profiting off it, even.  

Lucifer scurried out, using the thick curtains as cover while he found his way back to Charlie. He managed to fit under the door, checking the coast was clear before reforming as himself. He brushed off the dust and dirt as Charlie jumped out to hug him, relieved he was okay. He filled her in on what he’d heard and opened a portal back to the Hazbin Hotel to discuss the new information. 

Back at the hotel, all the staff had gathered in Alastor’s room. He sat up in the bed, back against the headboard, scowling at the invasion of privacy. Charlie had pointed out to him that they needed absolute privacy to discuss something ground-breakingly important for the fate of all Hell, and his room was generally avoided at all costs by guests. She didn’t mention how hopeful she was that this would help him feel a bit better, to be involved and to see how hard they were working to stop the angels. She knew, deep down he still cared enough to want to help them, he just had it a bit rough right now. She was sure of it. 

She was wrong, but it still amused him enough to stay awake to listen to their scheming. Their foolish, desperate attempt to trap the Sin into admitting his deal, or to catch him red-handed helping angels in and out. He sighed, thinking how stupid this was. 

Despite how quiet it was, nearly the whole room spun their heads to look at Alastor after he sighed. It was the most emotion they had seen in weeks. 

Charlie spoke up, hesitant, “Al? You okay over there?” 

He side-eyed the closed windows, irritated. It took a few seconds to clear his throat before replying in a dull, regular demon voice, no trace of radio static; “No offence dear Charlotte, however this plan is doomed from the start. There will be nothing to catch as they will cease the transporting of angels until they have a different method, by which point all your efforts will be completely useless. You will be playing cat and mouse with both the Sin of Greed and a frankly militant agent up in Heaven who has been playing you for a long time. This ‘Mammon’ has none of the intellect or wherewithal to pull this depth of genius off. Chances are, he might even get ditched as the guy on the inside if they consider him more of a risk than an ally to the cause. Did you consider any of that, dear?” 

Silence fell as the group considered the blatant accuracy of his words, regardless of how rudely he said them. 

Lucifer smiled a little, forming an idea. “You’re right, though not in any helpful way, bellhop. Mammon is now very much a loose end. He’s going to end up tied in it one way or another. What if we kicked off enough of a stink, caused enough problems at his party that he loses it, thinking that if no one wants to come to the party then he’ll have no excuse to have all those fireworks covering up the tracks?  “Think of it this way Charlie, if we can get Mammon himself to crack and expose himself as working with an angel warmonger, Heaven would have no choice but to confront whoever’s sending the angels in order to keep their holier-than-thou status!”  

[thefirstknife]

The Observatory

I've been rotating a piece of the TFS CE lore in my brain so long I forgot to write about it. There's no transcript yet that I can find (I might do it myself tbh if nobody else does), but here's the scans with the whole text.

So, there's a lot going on in that CE, but the main gist of it is that the whole CE is written like a report from Eido. She investigated information about the Witness and the Collapse to try and help prepare us for our inevitable fight against it. Through her investigation, she found old Eliksni databanks that contain ancient records of past civilisations; main one being discussed is the civilisation that would eventually end up becoming the Witness.

There was a lot going on with them, shown to us through discussions between two specific individuals; they're only identified through code as HNW047622 and RS6243199. I'll call them HNW and RS. I've mentioned this before because we could see one of the pages in the preview of the Collector's Edition.

These individuals talked a lot and gave us insight into the Witness' civilisation. In short, they were super advanced and had something they described as the "Gardener's tools" which they apparently used to terraform other planets. They also talk about the concept of "the final shape" a lot and lead philosophical debates about its meaning and whether or not they have a responsibility to bring that concept to others in the universe. I'll probably go into their civilisation in-depth at some point, but for now I want to go off about something that appears to be a minor detail.

As part of their conversations, In the 5th image from the scans, they extensively talk about the final shape. The RS individual mentions something called "the Observatory." It is apparently some sort of a prediction machine. Full transcript of the relevant conversation and the rest of the post under:

[RS6243199]: I agree with you, in theory, but we do not exist purely in the theoretical. This suffering is already happening now, all the time, everywhere we look. Come see me, and I will show you the Observatory's readings. Such sights as we have seen, my friend, make me sick to my soul. [HNW047622]: I thought that the Observatory could only see possibilities. The future-branches of past visible-light readings. [RS6243199]: We have made improvements. The glass-minds*** trim the excess branches. What we see now are the strongest paths. And in the seeing, they become true. [HNW047622]: Then tell me what you have seen. I gain nothing from running from the truth, no matter how uncomfortable. [RS6243199]: Cities turning on themselves in a frenzy of self-destruction. Children offering up parents in superstitious sacrifice to bloodied gods. An entire people who would boil off their own atmosphere rather than let their neighbors enjoy fresh air! Great waves drowning worlds. Bodies which do not decompose, for everything, down to the very bacteria, has died as well. Machine-plagues carving their prediction-machines into moons. Your garden, destroyed. As the Observatory saw it, so it came to pass.

The footnote is a text from Eido:

*** From the context, some sort of computational assistant? There appears to be some etymological overlap with the names of Vex Minds. Something to investigate later, perhaps!

This made me instantly lose my mind when I was reading. Very early into Lightfall's release, I made a post about the Veil and the history of the universe. It's about some very peculiar similarities between a lot of prediction technology and caches of information that preserve ancient history and ancient civilisations and how they may connect to the Veil.

Mind you, this was before we knew a lot about the Veil; I wrote this pre-Veil logs and before it was confirmed that the Veil is linked directly to consciousness and memory. It was also before Season of the Deep which gave us Akashic Revelation: a lore tab in which a Guardian tries to go through the portal and experiences a vivid flashback of memory of his own pre-Guardian life. The name of the tab is important: akashic records is an esoteric concept for a supposed existence of a record of everything that has ever happened in the universe, past or present or future, human and non-human.

This is basically what I proposed in my post, before this lore tab, about the Veil; that the Veil or some source the Veil can tap into, is something similar to that. That all of the prediction machines are essentially pulling from this same source. In the post, I mentioned the OXA machine (the "black box for galactic civilisations" that allowed the Psions to see the future), Inspiral lore book (in which various civilisations and individuals left their records in the Darkness), the Device (the machine built on Vex technology by the Future War Cult in the Golden Age, led my Maya Sundaresh, used to displace consciousness and also see the future as used by Lakshmi-2), and even maybe the Sundial made by Osiris. I also mentioned how there's a possibility that even the whole scope of Vex prediction technology is somehow based on or tapping into this same source.

I am very amused at how I wrote: "It’s also interesting that Maya Sundaresh seems to be quite involved in pretty much every aspect of this." So true past me, that really is interesting! Her connection to the Veil and Lakshmi (and the importance of the Device and FWC) will later be revealed in Veil Logs. Almost like these connections were made deliberately, between all of these machines and the Veil.

With the benefit of new lore being released in the time since I made the original post, I am even more convinced that there's something going on here, and especially after TFS CE because the section I copied here mentions yet another incredibly similar machine: the Observatory of the Witness' species. It's not described in a lot of details, but from what we did get, it's quite unmistakeable that this is similar to things like the OXA and the Device.

The Observatory is clearly shown to be some sort of a machine that can see the future. Or, rather, as HNW says, it can see "possibilities." This matches what we've seen of the Device when Lakshmi-2 was using it; she was able to see different possible futures, futures that were getting increasingly narrow and biased to what she wanted to see. Identical formatting for using some sort of a machine to predict the future is shown as well with a Psion Ixel using... something (? maybe the OXA?) to do the same.

And again, the same formatting is used this season when a Psion Qorix uses her inate Psion abilities to project visions of the future into the minds of those present at Caiatl's War Council. It's worth noting that Psions have huge ties to Darkness abilities, as well as their entire species having been influenced by Nezarec to an unknown extent, but enough for them to share psionic/psychic abilities, an affinity to void, helmets that reflect his head shape and possibly more we don't know about. It's also worth noting that Nezarec was the one who was transporting the Veil on his Pyramid ship and lamented how Neomuni were not using it to its full potential. Nezarec may have used the Veil to influence the Psions.

This is important because these devices aren't exact, and the Observatory seems to share the same caveat. It shows possibilities, not certainties. Different users might see different things, painted by their own desires and experiences. However, there's something in all of these prediction machines that can lead to a real prediction of the future. The invididual RS mentions several visions, most of which are not specific enough to identify, but sound plausible given the sheer size of the universe; they must've happened somewhere at some point. There's one specific that we know: "great waves drowning worlds." And there's one mentioned by RS that also happened; the destruction of the "garden" made by HNW. This is mentioned in the beginning of the CE. HNW terraformed a planet, but that planet was later completely destroyed.

Even more interesting, the way the Witness' species used the Observatory seems to imply that they employed the Vex directly to help them manage this machine. RS explains that the "glass-minds" are capable of "trimming excess branches" and allowing only the "strongest paths" to be explored. Perhaps this was their way of not falling into the trap that the people using the OXA or the Device could fall into; by having the Vex monitor and manage this prediction machine, it stops the user from inserting too many personal variables. And yes, as Eido noted as well, "glass-minds" is a phrase that indeed shares similarity with the Vex and is almost certainly referring to the Vex.

This is incredibly interesting for a lot of reasons. First, as I've already mentioned, these sort of prediction machines are common throughout the universe and keep being mentioned. Different species at different times have been capable of creating similar machines for similar purposes. Inspiral also goes deeper into how species could use the Darkness to access memory and history through it; the Ecumene and the Qugu had these abilities and used them as part of their civilisation. Through Psions, we get a mix of these two things; the Psions have both tangled with prediction machines like the OXA, but they also posses seemingly inate Darkness abilities that function similarly. They can project futures and possibilities to others, they can merge their minds (and bodies!), and their old religion was based on ancestor worship. Emotions, memories, consciousness itself: these are part of Darkness and governed by the paracausal entity we know as the Veil. It seems like machines capable of giving insight into the past and future are connected to the consciousness of the universe.

Second, these things somehow always come back to the Vex. We don't know how the OXA was built, but the Vex could access it. The Device was build from Vex technology and so was the Sundial. The Observatory is very closely linked to the Vex as well; either built by them or simply being close enough to be accessible for the Vex to manage it. The Vex are more or less known for their manipulation of time, their ability to move through it and use it as a tool, as well as for their prediction and simulation machines and constructs.

And of course, this year revealed to us that the Vex, or at least a part of the Vex, have tried recreating the Veil in the form of Black Heart, but failed due to their inability to understand paracausality. However, it seems like the Vex are drawn to the Veil even outside of just the Sol Divisive, as can be seen from Neomuna. The Vex were a constant threat to Neomuna throughout its existence and the Vex have been trying to access the CloudArk, an alternate reality engine built on the energy of the Veil.

This season in particular has been fairly suspicious with the Vex as well, showing us a concerning evolution of the Sol Divisive and the Vex in general; their radiolaria emitting Darkness energy, Oracles appearing outside of the Vault of Glass and also resonating Darkness, their attempts to "merge with the Witness" and a strange message that seems to be implying they're still not done with reaching out to the Veil in the form of the Black Heart. I talked about this more here.

Are the Vex drawn to the Veil for a particular reason? Perhaps they unknowingly tap into something the Veil is responsible for, like prediction, through the simple fact that the Veil is the paracausal entity responsible for Darkness which is memory? For the Vex, memory could work outside of time; perhaps their prediction abilities are simply them being able to "remember" the future, because they can exist through and outside time.

There is also the even more mysterious possibility here that revolves around a few hints in regards to the Veil and the Traveler being a single entity at some point in time. If the Veil and the Traveler used to be one before becoming separated, this may be what Unveiling talked about through metaphor; the mythical Garden before the universe existed could've been this singularity that was just the Veil and the Traveler together as one. And as Unveiling also noted, in one of those parts of Unveiling that seem to be closer to the truth than others, the Vex already existed then. The reason they're so out of place in a universe of paracausality is because they appear to have come into existence before paracausality so it is foreign to them. They might remember the time when the two were one, therefore they still have an instinctual draw to the Veil; and honestly, to the Traveler too, given how close to it they've settled in our system. As the lore on Scatter Signal notes, someone told us that all Vex agree that "Sol is Salvation." It's where both the Veil and the Traveler are.

This is beyond speculative, but it's been on my mind since that first post well over a year ago because of how closely linked Darkness, the Vex and these peculiar prediction devices have been throughout the history of the universe; now added with one more, the Observatory, most likely the first one ever made (or found), by the species that would later become the Witness. I could be off on the exact nature of this connection, but I feel like there is some sort of a connection all the same. I also feel like they wouldn't have mentioned this in TFS CE for no reason, especially because we're clearly not going to deal with the Vex until after TFS.

Either way, the Observatory mention and description really got me spiralling into unhinged territory. It added such a specific little detail about something I've speculated about before and made it fit perfectly. I wonder if this will remain just like a little curiosity and background worldbuilding or if there's a more direct reason for including it; namely if this is more hints about post-TFS stuff regarding the Vex.

Until we know for sure, I will continue to believe that all prediction abilities and prediction machines are tapping into a single source; the consciousness/memory of the universe, produced by the Veil as a part of the inherent propery of Darkness. The Vex are key to this because they may be doing it in a very specific way given their relationship to time, the possibility that they existed in the universe before anyone else, and possibly because of their memory of a time when the Veil and the Traveler were one.

It could be also something simpler and not entirely interconnected. But I was very pleased to see yet another Vex-based prediction machine being introduced into the universe, adding to the existing ones that have been fairly relevant this year and mentioned several times like the OXA and the Device. Can't wait for TFS and post-TFS content to see if this is something we'll be exploring in more detail, especially as we start dealing with the Vex!

All this about a half of a single page of TFS CE. Girl help.

[angelbroad]

Khaji-Da: Infliltrator

Summary: A darker turn in the 2023 movie where Khaji-Da was not damaged.

It had been a while since it landed on Earth, too long. Khaji-Da had been sent to Earth to scout it as a possible future colony for the Reach, where it landed without much issue. Its first host had been amongst the Mayans, where it discovered how gullible 'humans' could be. All it had to do was say the right words through the host which it contolled, and the lower life forms viewed it as God-sent.

But that was one of many hosts, you just never forget your first on a new planet target. Over the centuries, Khaji-Da had seen civilizations rise and crumble, hosts dying sooner than a lot of species the scarab had encountered in deep space, but at some point, their technology begun to improve. It was nowhere near the brilliance of the Reach, but it was somewhat acceptable. At least Khaji-Da would not have to see the humans in less than accommodating quarters and the most advanced objects being metal sticks.

Khaji-Da did not have a host for a long time after that, its last one dying alone in the ruins of her own pathetic civilization in Egypt. It did not have a host until Dan Garret came along. Khaji-Da decided to wait, bond with the man in private and continue its mission of gathering intel for the Reach to use upon arrival. However, this Garret host had an annoyingly persistent companion.

Ted Kord.

Khaji-Da never liked Ted Kord, which proved a challenge as it had to act like they were friends so as to not give away its identity. But despite this, it could tell Kord was not buying its performance fully, all leading up to the day Khaji-Da's host was captured. Something they had consumed caused the neurological functions of their host to cease, but the scarab was still conscious to that understand Kord finally found out about its existence.

But he did not try to remove it, no, instead Kord experimented on it while it was still buried in his friend's spine. Khaji-Da would refuse to engage in conversation, aside from the occasional snarling. Kord was still convinced he could reach his friend, despite seeing for himself that Khaji-Da had coiled around Garret's brain completely. The scarab would sometimes alter its host's biology, just to torment the man who believed he could do good by reverse engineering its technology. He would never rival the power of the Reach by pulling form a mere Infiltrator.

Khaji-Da had kept a few key notes on Kord. He had a Military Tech Company, he had a wife, and an offspring. A child, they would call it here. Khaji-Da had never left the basement of Kord's estate, staying in this 'Beetle Cave', but it could pick up movement upstairs, the sounds of footsteps and the occasional louder voice.

"Your offspring is being loud today. Well, louder than usual.", it had commented one day, making Ted flinch.

"...My kid is none of your business."

Khaji-Da chuckled, the automated reverb of its voice spilling out a bit. "You have me in your house, Kord, you cannot expect me to not be involved in your affairs."

"You have been ever since you grabbed Dan as your 'host'.", Ted said through gritted teeth, clenching his hands around the tools he was holding. 'Kabloom Bubblegum'...stupid name, wasn't it? He looked over at the scarab. Dan's body was placed in a way where his back was to Ted, exposing the scarab burrowed in his back. His limbs were locked into place, and believe him it had taken a long time for him to make restrains that would contain the scarab armor. Ted sighed, "I forgot to pick her up from school...again."

Ted had to try hard not to cry when the scarab burst into a fit of laughter. He was a terrible dad, and he knew it-hell, the Scarab knew it. He would call it Scarab, he didn't know if it had a name and frankly he didn't care. It had all been too much, everything combined was taking a heavy toll on him. He missed his old friend, his wife...his daughter.

One day, something unprecedented happened. A man from the future came, one Michael Carter, and asked him for help. Ted Kord wanted to help, but he knew he could not just leave this dangerous machine out and about, especially if Jenny could find it in the house. He had asked 'Booster Gold' to wait for a while. He had a plan prepared, one that unfortunately would lead to blood on his hands and leaving his Jenny at the hands of Victoria.

He would hide the Scarab, even make decoys so no one would ever find it. But while it had a body, it posed a threat. So...Ted did the unthinkable.

"Scarab."

"..."

"Scarab."

"Kord."

Ted looked at the many tools he had prepared. He did not know if it could see them or not. He had the decoys prepared, and now he just needed the real deal to hide it in Antarctica.

"The only way to remove you...would kill the host."

"Affirmative.", Khaji-Da did not understand why the man was asking it this. He already knew-

The Scarab felt pain. It was being ripped out of the host's body with a large and sharp object that could have doubled as one of its own blades. It fell on the floor with a clank, no longer able to move as Garret's bloody corpse fell limp in its restrains. Khaji-Da could hear Kord sobbing, at least both got to suffer a loss from this incident.

Khaji-Da had been inside a concrete ball in the Antarctic for a little over fifteen years, until is was found again by another Kord. The members of this bloodline seemed to be getting worse and worse. Now, it had the displeasure to hear Victoria Kord proudly parade this project of completely copying the functions of the Scarab. It was a laughable thought, somehow it had come across a Kord more delusional than Ted. Their species' technology had come far, that was true, but if she hoped to achieve the power its creators held, she was in for a very massive disappointment.

Unfortunately, there were bad news on its part too. No human that it had been passed to thus far proved to be a suitable host. They were sure 'Carapax' would have made a perfect Infiltrator, but something about the man did not sit right with Khaji-Da. The man had too much of an iron will, his brain would be difficult to coil around. Eventually, when it had been placed on an awkward machine meant to extract its code, Khaji-Da was found by a new face. It had recognised the woman as Jennifer Kord, Ted's child. Perhaps Khaji-Da could take her over, it would surely give it an advantage over Victoria's Industries. But alas, she was not the one. Khaji-Da will admit, she did help it escape the facility, by putting it in a burger box. The Scarab could not see what was going on outside of the confines of the package, but could hear as Kord gave it to someone called 'Jaime', and told him to guard it with his life.

The next time Khaji-Da got to see something outside of its greasy confines had been when Jaime had brought it to his residence, his familial units chanting in unison for him to open the box. Ah, finally. The familial unit number appeared to be quite large, which gave Khaji-Da more options to pick from. It was a little annoyed when the female next to Jaime called it a let-down, Earth-speak for disappointing.

It had been picked up by her first, but Khaji-Da would not settle for this one. Too annoying for its liking. Then it had been tossed over to an older man next to Jaime, he had good qualities like technological aptitude, but Khaji-Da did not like the fact that he was so unkempt. Finally, Jaime reached out to grab it when 'Rudy' had suggested to open it up with a drill, and oh...Khaji-Da immediately roared to life in Jaime's palm. This one was in ripe physical condition, easier-going, and clever with quite the imagination. One downside was the host's pacifism, but it's not like he would have any say in anything. Jaime said he thinks Khaji-Da liked him, and he had been right.

Khaji-Da lept on his face, earning screams of terror from everyone including its future host. Khaji-Da tried to guide Jaime away from the wall so it could find his back, having to knock back Rudy when he tried to remove it. Finally, it reached Jaime's back, proceeding with the grotesque first transformation. It could have done it later, but it wanted to stretch, and terrify the family even more while it was at it. While the armor spread around the body, Khaji-Da oddly enough felt...pleasure. Yes, this was the host it liked the most so far. It had fallen down on the table, the water around them sizzling as it got up. The family was asking for Jaime, but he was not here, not anymore. Khaji-Da walked forward, catching their reflection on a portrait of a strangely painted woman.

Perf-What the...fu-

What?? Khaji-Da held their head. No, something was wrong. Impossible!

Wh-What's happening??

'Hello, Jaime.', Khaji-Da said through the mind link. No, this was all wrong, their host was not supposed to be here!

"Jaime?", one of the familial units asked, making Khaji-Da turn their head rapidly.

The family jumped back, and Khaji-Da properly scanned them before beginning systems check, bursting a hole through the roof much to their host's dismay. Its host was loud during the entire systems check. A little annoying, but Khaji-Da would manage.

'Host: overreacting'

Overreacting?? You kidnapped me!

'Nonsense. You are my host, you are meant to comply.'

Your what-?

Khaji-Da had fallen on a car and cut a bus in half, but managed to return to the host's residence. The family rushed towards them, and Khaji-Da took off just the helmet. Rocio could immediatelly tell something was wrong. Her son's eyes weren't yellow.

'Your family is aware of me.'

I can tell!

'Should I greet them?'

Just...please don't hurt them...

Khaji-Da raised an arm, the family stiffening a little.

"Greetings.", it said in Jaime's voice, "I am Khaji-Da of the Reach. I have taken your Jaime's body as my host."

...

...

...You couldn't be more blunt, could you?

It had taken a while for the family to calm down, so much so it had gone dark outside. Khaji-Da had created clothing articles for Jaime from the tar, they could not have him nude.

"So...my brother has an alien parasite on his back...", Milagro had said, which made Khaji-Da frown.

"Nonsense. I am a computer."

"But you are from aliens."

"Affirmative."

"God it...it feels so weird!"

"How so?"

Milagro looked at them with so much anger in her eyes, Jaime actually made a noise of fear inside their shared head-space.

"How so? How so?? You are an alien machine using my brother's body as a meatsuit!"

Khaji-Da scoffed, "Please. This one is more than sufficient to my needs."

"Really?", Milagro asked, hands on her hips.

"I do not settle for people like yourself."

Before Milagro could respond, Rocio walked into the kitchen. She looked close to bursting into a screaming fit as she had her eyes tightly closed and was pinching the bridge of her nose.

"...What was your name?", she asked.

"I already told you-"

"What was your name?", Rocio asked again, more impatiently.

Look, if you're going to have my body, you need to hear me out.

'Why would I ever-?'

Just...answer her.

'Our mission has already be compromised-'

Maldita sea, hermano! Just tell her!

Khaji-Da groaned before reluctantly responding, "...My serial number is 'Khaji-Da'."

Rocio finally lifted her hand from her face to look at them, "Khaji-Da...is my son in there?"

After a minute of silence, Khaji-Da touched a finger on the side of their head.

"Somewhere up here, weirdly enough."

"What's that supposed to mean?", Rudy asked.

Khaji-Da rolled their eyes, "I am meant to take full control of my host, they are not supposed to be conscious-"

"So you are telling me there was a chance my son would be completely braindead??"

Khaji-Da actually flinched at that. This woman had a strong voice. They shook their head and composed themselves.

"Look, Reyes. I am only doing my function-"

"I don't care!", Rocio cut them off, "I just want to know if my son is safe!"

Khaji-Da swallowed, only ever used to being cut off by superiors.

'...Are you safe?'

I...think? I can't move my body, but I can still see and hear.

"Your son is perfectly fine. He can still see and hear you."

Rocio let out a shaky sigh as she slumped against the wall, hands covering her face. Milagro went over to hold her, as did Rudy, as an attempt at comforting her.

Wait...Jenny Kord!

'What of her?

She might know how to remove you!

Khaji-Da scoffed a laugh, turning a few heads.

'Do not bother. You cannot remove me.'

Like I'm supposed to believe you.

'You would be wise to, Jaime Reyes.'

"Okay, computadora.", Rudy said as he was walking up to Khaji-Da, "Who gave you to Jaime?"

"Jennifer Kord, a little after stealing me herself from the Kord building."

The man nodded, "Bien entonces.", he then walked off, the family units asking where he was going. After getting confirmation he was heading for the Kord building, Khaji-Da sat in the kitchen, Nana Reyes cautiously offering a liquid produce. Tea, they called it.

As Khaji-Da was consuming the beverage, they received a ping in their head, which made them get up and move towards Jaime's room. Milagro followed them, stationing herself outside the bedroom door. Khaji-Da shifted the civilian clothing back to the armor to properly receive the message.

"Infiltrator: serial number Khaji-Da, respond."

"Lieutenant: serial number Loxz-ha, responding."

Finally.

W-Who is that-

"Hello, Lieutenant. Has the fleet arrived?"

"Not yet, Infiltrator. A small force has entered the rim of the solar system while under cloaking. I and General: serial number Djo-Zha have been sent to Earth to retrieve you for information."

"Thank you, Lieutenant. I fear I will need to be seen for repairs."

"Inquire problem."

"Host's consciousness still present."

"Unprecedented. Do you still hold neurological functions over the host?"

"Affirmative."

"Excellent. Only a minor setback. We shall inform the superiors and have you looked over as soon as our schedule allows."

"Taken. I will be contacting you again if further information is needed."

"Affirmative."

And with that, the call ended. Khaji-Da turned the armor back to clothes as they heard a bloodcurdling scream from outside. It had turned out to be Rudy Reyes. He had retrieved Jenny Kord, who he had seen outside the Kord building. They had been chased by soldiers, it seemed, since most of the shouting involved the car being ruined. Jenny immediately turned to Jaime when she saw him, a look of worry and then shame as she turned her head down. Rudy had a lot to get out of his chest regarding the Kord company, at least that was one good quality about him.

"Where is it?", Jenny asked, referring to the scarab before realising what was wrong with Jaime's eyes.

"Greetings, Jennifer Kord."

"You...know my name-"

"Your father kept me in your home's basement."

"...Holy shit-"

"Milagro.", Rocio interrupted.

Jenny shook her head, "But..how-?"

"Allow me.", Rudy said before taking off his boot and throwing it to the spice drawer next to Khaji-Da, who only turned their eyes to look at it.

"I thought they would come out again.", was what he had to say.

Khaji-Da answered Jenny's question by turning around and creating a hole on the clothing articles, exposing its actual body burrowed deep inside Jaime's spine. They could hear gasping and Milagro gagging before fixing the shirt and turning around. All they had as a follow-up response was a shrug. The next time they spoke was when Jenny was answering what it was.

"It was given to my dad when I was a kid, I think. It's...some kind of world-destroying weapon."

"That is a bit exaggerated.", Khaji-Da responded.

"So you are not a world-destroying weapon?", Milagro asked.

"I am only a scout."

You are not a world-ending weapon?

'No.'

Jaime let out a sigh of relief before Khaji-Da cut it off.

'I am a world-conquering weapon. They ought to get it right.'

What??

The group behind them was trying to figure out a plan, eventually Jenny believing she knew a way to remove it. Khaji-Da knew this was utter nonsense, but they could use some entertainment while waiting for their superiors.

"I know where we could find answers. But we need the key."

"Where is they key?", Khaji-Da asked.

"...At the Kord building. And they're probably on high alert since I took the scara...you."

Khaji-Da shrugged, "Alright."

Rudy even offered a way to jam the security systems, surprisingly. They swear, the man's hate against Kord was almost as great as their own. And the machine did end up working, despite its primitive appearance.

"Hearing your aunt's voice is an assault to my hearing receptors.", Khaji-Da commented.

Jenny agreed, and told Khaji-Da exactly how the company came to be in the woman's hands before helping her retrieve the key. 'Tedwatch', Khaji-Da cringed at the invention as the two walked out.

"Why did my dad keep you downstairs?", Jenny asked.

"...He wished to use my functions. Unfortunately for him, I was bonded with Dan Garret at the time."

"You were...in a person when you were there?"

Khaji-Da chuckled, "What? You think the screams I would let out at night to scare you was your imagination?"

Jenny looked forward, terrified. She had believed in the boogeyman for a long time because of those mechanical screams and scrapes. Heavy footsteps made a new presence known ahead.

Ignacio Carapax. Joy.

"The Scarab.Now."

Khaji-Da looked bored as they rolled their eyes, a stark contrast to Jenny's fear. The Lieutenant begun running towards the two, Khaji-Da waiting for the right moment to catch the punch and transform properly.

"Hola, Ignacio.", they said before punching him to the statue nearby with such force it had fallen off the pedastal.

Jenny looked at them in disbelief.

"Find Rudy Reyes.", they said, and Jenny complied.

Khaji-Da looked on as Carapax took off his jacket and pressed a button on the back of his head, bits of armor emerging. Khaji-Da raised an eyebrow.

Is it...something like you?, Jaime asked.

"You are going to regret that.", Carapax growled as he shot a rocket at them, which Khaji-Da easily blocked with a shield.

"No.", Khaji-Da responded out loud, "Just a cheap imitation."

They then charged at the man, tackling him to the nearby parking lot and through a truck. A large blast from a flamethrower knocked them back and onto a car.

W-Wait wait wait. We're not gonna fight this guy, right??, Jaime asked.

'We clearly will.'

Wait-

Jaime did not finish as Carapax attempted to get the better of them by shooting bullets at them, but Khaji-Da merely pushed the car towards him, sandwiching the man between two vehicles. They continued to slam him with the one car against the other repeatedly. But Carapax, got them off by shooting rockets at them from a source on his back. It had knocked Khaji-Da back, but did not stop them from continuing to fight Carapax in close combat. Khaji-Da had turned one hand to a sonic blast and blasted Carapax back and through the parking lot wall.

Khaji-Da hummed as they walked towards Carapax.

"I must say, that was rather disappointing.", their arms sprung into blades, which sparked as they brushed the concrete road.

What are-What are you doing-?

Khaji-Da used one of the blades to tilt the man's head to face them.

"Such a shame.", they rose the blade up, making it very clear they would kill Carapax.

No! Wait-!

'Eliminating threat.'

I'm not a killer!

'You have no autonomy, Jaime Reyes. You are-'

The sound of a horn blaring La Cucaracha broke Khaji-Da's attention, turning to see the truck speeding towards them. Khaji-Da sighed before feeling a hit on their abdomen. Carapax had regained his composure and continued landing hits as Khaji-Da was forced to put away their blades. They were grabbed by the foot and slammed into a car, breaking a few ribs. No matter, they could repair the body. But that drew their attention elsewhere as Carapax dragged them towards the sidewalk and pressed a boot on the side of their head. Khaji-Da growled, the noise inhuman. Carapax took off his helmet.

"What...are you?"

No, this host would not die. He was too perfect for Khaji-Da to let go. Khaji-Da refused to answer, instead ready to cut off the man's leg before headlights illuminated him. Khaji-Da turned their gaze to see the truck coming to an abrupt stop and El Chapulin being launched out of the truck bed, hitting Carapax and sending him flying down the street. Khaji-Da shook their head as they sat up, reluctantly getting in the truck. This decision would bite them later, they knew it would.

They ended up in Kord's Estate once more, now looking much more decrepit. They would try to find information inside the Cave, which Rudy was more than happy to be in, gleeful even. Khaji-Da stayed in their armor, only the helmet off as they looked at the familiar surroundings. They winced as they caught sight of the operating table they were strapped in, for years, dried blood still staining it.

Not a lot of good experiences here, huh?

'I had some. tormenting the man was always the highlight of my day.'

...Of course it was.

'Don't act so surprised.'

"I got it.", Rudy said, turning Jenny's attention to him. Khaji-Da stayed where they were, waiting for them to figure it out themselves.

Aren't you gonna go there too?

'No need.'

But-

"Okay...I figured out how to get it out.", Rudy said, "Jaime's got to be dead."

Jenny froze, and so did Jaime with his limited existence. Rudy turned to Khaji-Da.

"But I got a feeling you ain't surprised."

Khaji-Da offered a smile, a very unsettling smile, in Rudy's opinion.

"If you knew, you could have told us!", Jenny said.

"I knew you would not believe me.", Khaji-Da shrugged with the smile that seemed to be signature, "Looks like you will be stuck with me until further notice.", they simply said before leaving for the roof.

The next time Jaime spoke to Khaji-Da was on the roof. Khaji-Da looked ahead at the bright lights of the progressive part of Palmera City. Maybe not so much of an ugly world after all.

...Why?

"Hm?"

Why are you even here?

Khaji-Da always kept that smile on, even as they explained their purpose.

"I am an Infiltrator.", it answered, "I was sent here to gather information about your planet."

So you can conquer it., Jaime concluded, remembering the Scarab's earlier comment.

"Precisely! Ah, do not be so sour, I will take care of your family."

If anything happend to them, I swear to god I'll-

"You'll what, Jaime Reyes?", Khaji-Da asked, "You are a prisoner in your own body. It matters not that you can somehow speak to me, merely a minor setback. You are mine, Jaime Reyes. Best to accept it."

Jaime fell silent after that, Khaji-Da humming as they leaned on the concrete balcony wall. The sounds of a helicopter flying above caught their attention. It was Kord, but they were not heading for them. Strange.

...Home.

"Hm?"

She must know where I live.

"It would seem so."

Aren't you going to do anything?

"What would you have me do?", Khaji-Da asked nonchalantly, looking at their fingers without much care. If anything, they would be harder to track down.

Jaime was panicking. O-Okay, look., he said, There...there might be more people you can actually kill there!

Khaji-Da perked up. "You will not pester me about not being a killer?"

I won't. Just save my family-

"Say 'please'."

Jaime would swallow if he had a mouth.

...Please, save my family.

Khaji-Da cracked their neck before making the helmet snap back on, flying towards the Reyes at max speed. They arrived at the scene of a large group of military outside the residence, a barricade which they easily broke through with a battering ram.

Milagro struggled to look up due to the lights, "Khaji-Da?"

"Your saviour is here.", Khaji-Da replied with a bow.

Victoria could not believe her eyes. This was magnificent! She had ordered the soldiers to fire at the kid, but it was quickly realised he was bulletproof. When the aim was directed at the Reyes family instead, Khaji-Da dropped down and extended their wings to be used as shields. After confirming the family's well-being, one of their arms transformed into a plasma cannon, and tore through almost all the soldiers. They ordered the family to evacuate as they fought with two plasma cannons, kicking and punching the humans occasionally for the fun of it. They found that the human body was extremely fun to utilise, mostly due to this 'adrenaline' chemical. They even stabbed a man through with a double blade and blasted his body away with electricity. Jaime felt like he would puke from the violence.

The constant that was the voice of their host reminded them of the his family's safety. Those frivolous distractions caused Khaji-Da's attention to be stretched thin, allowing Carapax to catch them with a claw. Khaji-Da snapped their helmet off, feeling their strength leaving them. What was this??

-----

Jenny Kord had taken the family to the Estate, but just before they entered the building, a male voice stopped them.

"Greetings, Kord."

The group turned around to see a peculiar looking man...or rather alien, accompanied by two others who were for sure human, their eyes the same glow as Jaime's with the Scarab on. The alien was taller than the girl with the purple mullet and shorter than the bald man with the tattoos. He had green skin and an odd trenchcoat with no sleeves. The fabric around his arms looked almost mechanical as it lead to an article of clothing inside, while his chest displayed the logo on the Scarab armor's chest. He was holding a walking stick as he addressed the confused group.

"We have much to discuss."

------------

Khaji-Da was strapped to a device yet again, upside down no less. This 'Sanchez' was working in close proximity, clealy nervous to be around Khaji-Da, who would let out the occassional beetle noise to scare him. They were eventually rolled around, no longer upside down as Victoria addressed them.

"Now. the Scarab chose you, that is true. But it doesn't belong to you, it belongs to me."

Khaji-Da frowned at her, snarling.

"U-Um, miss Kord, there is something weird here."

"And what would that be?"

"Well, the military had ran a backround check-"

"We did find the family, what more is there?"

"Jaime Reyes doesn't have yellow eyes."

Victoria paused for a moment, looking at Jaime before jumping back as they lashed at her, the restrains stopping them.

"Get your own toy, Kord.", Khaji-Da hissed, making sure the venom in its voice was clear as it spoke her name, "Both him and I belong to the Reach."

Kord actually looked disturbed for a moment before walking behind the console.

"Transfer the code."

Khaji-Da felt like they were being split apart, but did not let it show that they were in pain.

You can shout if you want to-

'Showing weakness is not the way of the Reach!'

What are you talking about-

'I am not giving you or my dignity up to mere meat!'

This had gone on for a while, the massive amounts of electrical shocks coming to a stop eventually. Khaji-Da finally got to breathe, and eavesdrop on Sanchez as he frantically looked over Jaime's vitals, which Khaji-Da was fighting hard to keep running.

"Their brainwaves are syncronised.", he told Kord, "They are essentially one."

Yes...finally. True symbiosis.

What does this mean?

'We are one. Now, you will certainly never be rid of me until you expire.'

That moment, something shook the island, Kord ordering for a screen to display the camera feed. What the people inside the room witnessed made all but one distressed. A large, squid-like ship had landed on the island, glowing green as the soldiers surrounded it with guns locked and ready. The door to the ship opened, Kord telling them to hold their fire as the first person to step out was someone Carapax recognised.

"Nadine.", he croaked from his spot on the chair.

Khaji-Da chuckled, noticing the dead yellow eyes of their Lieutenant. Poor fool. Another human followed, the General, likely, and finally the Negotiator. Kord ordered the soldiers to fire, but the bullets never reached the Negotiator as the two Scarabs next to him used shields to block the lead. Khaji-Da craned their head at Carapax.

"Looks like a family reunion, Ignacio."

Carapax wanted to rip off the transfer wire and punch that smug grin off that thing's face so bad! The soldiers stopped firing once the Black Scarab shot a plasma blast their way.

"Now now.", the Negotiator said, "No need for violence, we are not savages, are we?"

The soldiers lowered their weapons, the Green Scarab shooting them a commanding glare. The Negotiator looked forward.

"Victoria Kord, I am aware you can hear me.", all eyes in the room where on the woman now as the alien continued to speak, "What you have in your possession is property of the Reach. We demand that you comply and hand both our Infiltrator and its host to us, otherwise we will be forced to use lethal force."

The woman however, despite the transfer being complete, didn't seem to want to give this opportunity up. Communicating her refusal to the soldiers so they could relay it to the Negotiator.

"Miss Kord has refused your demands, sir!", a soldier shouted.

The Negotiator simply sighed and nodded at the Scarabs, who were now fully transforming.

"Llingndnd ssheerne anndnd.", he said, before he walked back to the ship.

"U-Um, what did he say?", Sanchez asked Khaji-Da.

Khaji-Da turned to him with a smile, "Translating: Kill them all."

This was soon made clear as Djo-Zha opened several holes on their body, rockets firing from them and blowing everything they came across to smithereens. Djo-Zha looked down at Loxz-Ha and nodded. Loxz-Ha returned their nod as they spinted forward to break inside the facility, leaving Djo-Zha to clear the outside as the camera feed cut off. Carapax was in the process of transforming as a loud sound echoed through the halls. The stone of the fortress was not enough to hold back a Commanding Unit of the Reach.

Loxz-Ha burst into the testing room just as Carapax finished his tranformation, now a fully operational OMAC unit. Loxz-Ha fired a couple of tacs at the three individuals inside, pining them to the walls as they rushed to Khaji-Da to release their Infiltrator.

"You need to do better, Khaji-Da."

"I apologise for my incompetence, Lieutenant.", Khaji-Da said as they rubbed their freed wrists.

"No matter. We must-"

Before Loxz-Ha could finish their sentence, they were rammed through the wall by an escaped Carapax.

"Lieutenant!"

"Go! I shall take care of this myself!"

As much as Khaji-Da wanted to fight Carapax themselves, they followed their Lieutenant's instructions. But before that, they walked over to the trapped Kord, snatching the code from her and breaking it in their hand.

"We don't think so.", they said before making their way out.

Meanwhile, Carapax and Loxz-Ha had barreled through many walls. Carapax knew who was behind that armor, and he was aware that Scarab was controlling her, and that fact alone made his hits weaker than his opponent's. The fight was brutal, the two hiting each other over and over again until Carapax landed a series of hits strong enough to shatter the helmet, and brought a blade down to split the body at the shoulder. A robotic scream rang out from it, disturbing enough to make Carapax back away. He watched as the thing stitched itself back together.

"Come on, Ignacio.", it said, smiling at him with a mix of Nadine's voice and its own robotic reverb, "All we wanna do is kill you."

Khaji-Da made their way outside, where the greens and browns of the island had turned red from Djo-Zha's spree.

"Infiltrator: Khaji-Da.", they addressed, "Finally."

Khaji-Da saluted, "General: Djo-Zha."

Just then, two figures burst through the wall, the one standing being Loxz-Ha as they drove their blade through Carapax's helmetless head. They turned to Khaji-Da.

"Has the copy of your code been destroyed?"

"Affirmative."

"Good.", they then turned to the General, "There are more OMAC systems underground."

"Then we shall destroy the island itself to be rid of any witnesses as well."

The three then boarded the ship, which disposed of a strange and large object on its way up. It wasn't until they had reached a certain level in the sky that the device activated, setting the island up in flames and burning everything to ash.

In space, Jaime was frantically questioning everything. Yes, his family was safe and back in the Keys, Kord would likely take care of them out of guilt. No, he would not die during the evaluation procedure. No, Loxz-ha was not looking at them a certain way because they hated Jaime.

Khaji-Da looked on into space from the hall windows. Jaime commented it was beautiful.

'We shall see more of space, and much more vibrant skies, soon as we finish our work here.'

But...my family will stay safe, won't they?

'If I said yes, would you trust me?'

I...think? You heard me out when I asked you to save them back there.

'I did do that.'

...Thank you, Khaji-Da.

Khaji-Da shuddered, holding onto their shoulder blade as they smiled at the praise. Something about this felt...good. The scientists had figured there was nothing wrong with Khaji-Da itself, it was only the will of their host that allowed him to still communicate with it. The Scarab was fine with this, as was the Negotiator. It did not interfere with the Scarab's performance.

"Worry not, Jaime Reyes.", Khaji-Da said, "The Reach, is here to save you."

[staring-at-my-keyboard]

Chatting over Dinner

An isolated moment shared between a family, some of which are interdimensional travelers.

୨⎯✎✎⎯୧

Just a Gravity Falls Blind Faith AU snippet that was the result of me wondering about the character dynamics of the BF twins and the Pines after said twins stumbled through one of the scattered rifts that the Pines were fixing in 'Lost Legends'.

୨⎯✎✎⎯୧

Fluff

Comedy

TWs:

⇾ none!

Blind Faith twins: Sixer & Lee

Canon Mystery Twins Classic: Ford & Stan

୨⎯✎✎⎯୧

“So I says: ‘Which one of us here has more eyes?’ Then wham! He stabs me!” Lee recounted, punctuating himself by slamming a fist on the table, causing the silverware to rattle. Mabel gasped, and the Fords jumped.

Sixer frowned. “Not h-how it- it- it went… at all.”

“That’s how it went because I say that’s how it went,” Lee argued flatly. “Tell me again, which one of us goes on useless rambles about the 'inherent non-existence of objective truth' or whatever the hell?”

“N- not in th-this… this instance.” Sixer retorted.

“What, so stuff is only up in the air if it’s convenient for you? Like that one time you denied eating all the walrus butter?” 

Sixer opened his mouth, paused, then sank back in his chair, tips of his ears red.

“Uh-huh. I thought so.”

“Walrus… butter?” Dipper cocked his head.

“Kinda similar to peanut butter, believe it or not- at least in that dimension. It was for seeing stuff that normally wouldn’t exist with normal human eyes, even ones like this-“ Stan gestured to his bionic one with one hand and shoveled potatoes into his mouth with the other, with a mumbled ‘damn these are good.’

“Woah! Ford never mentioned anything like that!” Dipper enthused. “Can you tell me more?”

Stan said something through his food that was along the lines of ‘Can you let a guy eat a meal first?’, although it came out more like “C’n y’l guy eath’meal f’rth?”

“How did you acquire that, by the way?” Ford inquired, gesturing to Lee’s eye while halfway through eating a tomato like an apple. “I’ve found precious few worlds whose cybernetic offerings even rarely cater to the human body, much less a part of it as complicated as the eye.”

“Well, Sixer here made it for me!” Lee answered, practically glowing with pride. “He even retrofitted it with heat and night vision! Pretty awesome, if I do say so myself.”

“Really?” Ford leaned towards his counterpart. “Do you still have the schematics? If so, you’ll have to show me at some point. I’ve always struggled with combining biology and technology harmoniously, but you’ve done a wonderful job here.”

“See, that’s what I keep telling ‘im, but for some reason he insists on disagreeing with me.” Lee tutted.

“Could… could be b- b- better.” Sixer mumbled. 

Lee let out an exasperated sigh.

“Well, yes, everything could be better, but that doesn’t negate the quality of its existence in the present,” Ford reassured, before standing and leaning over the table towards an increasingly confused Lee. “Regardless of what may be missing, this is still remarkable! I wouldn’t even know where to begin in suggesting improvement! If I could…”

Ford came dangerously close to just manhandling Lee’s face before Stan grabbed his sweater and hauled him back down into his seat.

He swatted the back of Ford’s head. “Give a man some space, you dork,” Stan turned to Lee apologetically. “Sorry about him.”

“Please. Do you know how many times my Ford has just randomly grabbed my face when he thought my eye was glitching? Plot twist: it never was.”

Both Fords groaned.

[ask-future-turo-and-past-sada]

For Professor Turo: Do all of the legendries from the 'present' day not exist anymore? What about the mythicals? Are there "Iron__" recreations for every Pokemon?

For Professor Sada: Have you observed any Pokemon species that don't exist anymore in the 'present' day, other than the fossil Pokemon and those brought back to life in Galar? Do you have a hypothesis on the reason why the Amaura line is found roaming freely in the Crown Tundra when everywhere else, there is a need for a fossil restoration facility to bring the Pokemon to life once more?

(I adore this series and absolutely love the worldbuilding, but it's okay if you don't have answers to these, I know they're kind of out-of-pocket)

Turo: Actually, most legendaries and mythicals are still present, some of them are simply much more visible than others. The "Iron" Pokémon are a result of certain species adapting to the new Hadron energy and overpowering everything else that didn't or couldn't, and humans slowly working to replace those that went extinct. Most legendaries are still strong enough that they felt no need to change... But the fact that humanity was even able to create an artificial version of the three swords of truth is very exciting!

In my time, there's been lots of discussions about what will happen once humanity spreads even further than just the Moon and Mars... We know that some legendaries came from space, will other planets then have their own legendary Pokémon? Will the legendary Pokémon we still know be left behind on Earth? Will humanity reach the point where they will bring them with us, or will they create an "Iron Continent" and "Iron Ocean" to help terraform planets?

It's fascinating to think about... so many possibilities.

Sada: There's lots of, actually! Evolution works by always choosing the most convenient path, and that counts for Pokémon too; one thing I've noticed is that a Pokémon will sometimes lose access to an evolutionary form if the environment it lives in will lead to it not needing it anymore.

For example, did you know that Skarmory used to have an evolution? Many Pokémon that only have a single stage in this time used to have only or even two, either evolution or pre-evolutions. Differences in environment and living styles could lead to those evolutions being triggered again, which is why "new" evolution methods get discovered all the time!

Another example is Magmortar, which was thought to be almost the "common" form of Magmar in a time where volcanic activity was much more intense. When the planet cooled during the latest Ice Age, the Pokémon settled to the simpler forms of Magby and Magmar as the "base".

As for Amaura, that's another interesting question! Fossil restoration technology has been improving since its development in the 90s, but we still are not sure if the fossil we are restoring are actually how the Pokémon were in that time or if we are restoring slightly modified versions by filling the gaps in DNA.

They also probably lived in an environment that's extremely different from the current one.

The most recent theories seem to imply that Tyrantrum for example had feathers... I would love to be able to see a specimen as it truly was in that time.

The Amaura population in the Crowd Tundra is the result of many fossils of that species having been found in pretty much perfect conditions in that area, probably due to them having been naturally an Ice Type, which led to their remains being perfectly preserved. They restored a sizable population and it has been thriving in the wild since then!

(Oh don't worry ahah, this was a lot of fun! Some things like the legendaries not changing were already mentioned in the fic, some I've worldbuilt a bit now!)

[depths-of-hyrule]

I have a Rauru/Zonai headcanon inspired by this post [link]. I think the Zonai are from the depths and changed the story of his takeover of Hyrule to sound more like the good guy.

I mean, Zonite is found almost exclusively in the depths. They have ancient structures in the depths. And if you squint, their evelutionary characteristics could hint at existing at the depths. I'll go over my points to try and be more specific with what I mean.

First of all, the zonite that they almost exclusively use for their machinery is only found in the depths (save for the extremely rare locations elsewhere). Where they use Zonite a lot for their machines, it makes sense that they would actually be from where you find it in the largest quantities.

This is followed up by the point that the Zonai have structures already built in the depths like the temples, mines, and refineries. While I guess the game wants us to think that they descended from the sky, met with Hylians with their technology, and eventually found the depths and made those structures. This doesn't make much sense to me as the only place that has zonite in the sky is the tiny cave system you find on the great sky island. I may be wrong about this, but it's still odd to me that they have such little zonite in the sky where they allegedly already had lots of Zonite devices made to show off to Hyrule.

Now, my more obscure point is that I think it makes sense for them to evolve in the depths. Big ears is my main selling point on this as having large ears to hear when you have less sight to go off of. The earrings could also assist as a tell when another Zonai is approaching. They also have a smaller animalistic nose that would make sense for filtering out and breathing in fewer air particles that the depths are full of. (Which we know are hazards given muddlebuds, puffshrooms, and the general spores you can see floating in the depth air.) The brightbloom seeds are also another thing that aren't in the sky (minus the one cave), and this is relevant because Rauru's design has brightblooms seed patterns in his hair.

My final secret point is that it doesn't follow through with the lore already present in the Legend of Zelda timeline as we know Skyward sword takes place in the sky before and established the Kingdom of Hyrule when they reached the surface. The Skyward Sword erasure bothers me a lot as a SS enjoyer (i am biased it was my first zelda game, no i dont care). If the zonai lied about their origins, then we have a good way to interpret Tears of the Kingdom without it either being an alternate universe or forcing SS to take place in an alternate universe.

As I see it, the Zonai evolved in the depths and mined Zonite, which they discovered to be very powerful and created Zonai devices that were also powerful. Discovering the land above their own, they used the Zonai devices to leave the depths and create a society on the surface. They either straight up lied about where they came from and then later created the sky islands to back up their story or created the sky islands using the zonai devices with floating abilities. Then come back down to the surface pretending to be holier beings that can "save" and "protect" Hyrule from dangerous monsters that they are skilled in killing as the depths trained them well in combat and helped them improve their technology.

[autolenaphilia]

Thief II: The Metal Age is the sequel to Thief: The Dark Project. It’s very similar to the first game, and in substantial ways very much the same game. Garrett in this game does largely the same things in the same engine as the first game. Most of what I wrote about the gameplay mechanics in my review of the first game are still true of this one, so I won’t repeat myself here, and only describe what is different.

This re-use of existing tech is not surprising since this game only came out around a year and half after the first one. This was common at the time: if you had a successful game, you would quickly make a sequel using the same tech and basic gameplay of the first one. And at its best, this enabled developers to refine what was good from the first game and learn from its mistake, and Thief II is a shining example of that.

Premise

What is different about this game is largely rooted in what happened in Garrett’s world after the first game, so I’ll need to describe the story premise first. “Beware the dawn of the Metal Age” warned keeper Artemus in the first game’s final line. And as the subtitle of this game reveals, “The Metal Age” has indeed begun. The second game takes place only one year after the first, but a lot has changed.

The Metal Age is a great leap forward in technology in the City Garrett lives in. Electric lights and various steampunk technology is more prominent including things like robots and security cameras. This is because of the mechanists, a break-away sect from the Hammerites, lead by the brilliant inventor and religious leader Father Karras. The mechanists are analogues of calvinistic protestants to the hammerite catholic church analogue. The mechanists share the hammerite belief in technology, but are more daring and less cautious in applying it, which combined with a genuine skill for technical invention resulted in the rapid technological advancement we see in the second game.

Gameplay changes

Even Garrett, whose job has gotten harder due to mechanist technology, has adapted new technology. In the final cutscene of the first game, he got a mechanical eye (which in this game is revealed to have been created by Karras himself), and in this game you finally get to use it. Besides restoring Garrett to binocular vision, it has a zoom function. Garrett now also has scouting orbs, which are small cameras connected to his mechanical eye he can toss around corners to scout ahead without revealing himself. Later on when Garrett allies with the pagans (we’ll get to that) he get vine arrows, which are essentially rope arrows but better, since they can also stick to metal grates. He also gets frogbeast eggs. Frogbeasts were an enemy in Thief I, and they are essentially kamikaze frogs. When they saw Garrett, they jumped after him and exploded when touching him, dealing damage. The frogbeast eggs allows Garrett to do that to NPCs. And that’s about it for new equipment. The rest is returning equipment from the first game.

There are also some minor technical improvements to the game, the engine is the same but has been improved with stuff like weather effects and better character models and so on. But nothing major, it’s still the Dark Engine.

Technological challenges

So while Garrett hasn’t changed his methods much, the metal age has made Garrett’s job harder. Things have gotten tough for our good thief. We have so much more security tech than in the first game. Security cameras are a major problem in this game, when they only appeared like once or twice in the first. There are mechanical heads that throw bombs on you if you are seen by a camera or step on a trigger plate or if you are in view at all. There is overall even more loud marble floors and clanky metal grating in this game. And then there are the “builder’s children”, steampunk robots who are impossible to take on with normal sword and arrows, although they have a weakpoint due to actually being steampunk.

What I mean by that is that these robots are literally powered by steam. They have boilers in their rear ends, complete with a grate for putting in fuel. And if Garrett aims a water arrow or two into that boiler grate, it can put out the fire and depower the robots. This is absolutely brilliant game design. The water arrows were mainly used to put out torches in the first game (electrification isn’t complete in The Metal Age so you still use it for that), so this new use for a pre-existing tool reflects how the game world has changed.

Level Design

It’s in the game’s level design where we see the most marked improvement from The Dark Project. This time Looking Glass knew what they were doing a stealth game. The Dark Project wasn’t even a stealth game at all early in development. And in the final product you can see the developer’s uncertainty about making a full-on stealth game.

Here in Thief II,the focus is on doing stealth in mainly urban environments, areas where people live and you have to sneak past them. Zombies and ghosts only make occasional cameos. This game knows what it is about. The bulk of this game is exactly what I wanted out of the original Thief.

The locations are varied too. A game just of robbing the mansions of nobles would indeed be boring, but Looking Glass realized that there is a variety of urban locations for you to rob. You have a shipping yard, a police station, a mechanist church, a bank etc. There are also more varied objectives than just stealing stuff, you are at times more of a spy than a thief.

Levels are bigger and even more open-ended than the ones in the first game. And it works so well. You have for example often multiple ways of breaking into a building. There is a genuine sense of freedom, a justified sense that you can make your own path through the levels.

Thief II has some truly great levels. An early peak is the second level, Shipping and Receiving, which is big and open ended, and has so much fun things to do.

And the game peaks overall in the justly well-regarded Life of the Party. This is a massive level where you sneak across the city rooftops to break into a Mechanist HQ. Just getting to the place takes maybe 40 minutes to 1 hour unless you are basically speedrunning. The size of the level gives it a sense of grandeur, but the best thing is that it’s dense with stuff to do. Several alternate paths to take, small detours for goodies you can take, so many conversations you can listen in on, it’s just fun. The level is big in literal map size for sure, but part of why it feels like an epic is that it’s dense with interesting things to do. Many modern open world games have worlds that are much larger than Life of the Party, which after all is just one level in a game from 2000. But these large open worlds are empty, with long sections that you just travel through, and repetitive sidequests when they give the player things to do. This prozd video describes your average open-world game.These massive open worlds seem to only have half the stuff there is to do in Life of the Party. There is very little time where you are just moving around without coming across something interesting to do, something to listen to or steal.

Life of the Party is the best level for sure. But overall when Thief II is good, its levels offer the same experience if on a smaller scale. You are exploring an open-ended map with stuff to do around every corner, in every room.

It’s not always good though. The game at times does seem to suffer from the time pressure and crunch the developers were put through, especially towards the end of the game. Level 13 and 14 are obvious filler. They re-use the same exact map with thin narrative justification. Level 13 is Garrett “casing the joint”, breaking in and not stealing what he is there to steal, just to observe the security and map the place out. And then in level 14 he breaks in again and steal things. This is such a flimsy excuse to re-use the same map, like it’s something Garrett has never done before and will never do again in the entire series. The map is lazy too, the layout is mirrored, so there is some copy-and-paste going on and some of the rooms are fairly bare and empty. The game clearly peaks in Life of the Party and the final third of levels are somewhat of a let-down.

The final level Sabotage at Soulforge is actually decent, though extremely challenging, although it’s the final level so it being the most difficult is justified. If you can beat this final level on expert difficulty, you are a master thief for sure, and can take on any other stealth game in the world.

Overall though, the level design in Thief II is definitely better than The Dark Project. The strong focus on stealth and urban environments, the bigger and more open maps, it is a big improvement.

The story and atmosphere remain strong. What I said about The Dark Project’s excellent subtle storytelling, with its strong cutscenes and storytelling baked into the levels remains very much true for the sequel. And the story it tells might even be better, while building off the first game’s themes.

Story and themes

The fun mechanic with the robots I earlier shows how The Metal Age is probably one of the best steampunk games ever made because it understands the genre. It’s not just a lot of brass and gears, Steam power is actually used for more advanced technology than in the steam age. But it goes deeper into themes.

While there are of course influences all the way back to H.G. Wells and Jules Verne, the modern literary genre of steampunk was invented in the 1980s. It’s named after cyberpunk, and cyber- and steampunk are closely related genres. Writers like K.W Jeter (the coiner of the term steampunk), William Gibson and Bruce Sterling both wrote pioneering steampunk and cyberpunk works. And their steampunk works often shared similar themes to their cyberpunk work. A good example is the novel The Difference Engine by Gibson and Sterling, which in many ways a cyberpunk novel with computer hackers, except set in an alternate victorian era where Babbage’s mechanical computers have brought about an early 19th century digital revolution.

Looking Glass Studios were well-tuned into the cyberpunk genre, having created one of the greatest cyberpunk games, System Shock. So it’s no surprise that when they take on steampunk, it’s rooted in the genre’s literary roots in cyberpunk, their own cyberpunk works and the established themes of the Thief series.

The central theme of the series as established in the first game is nature vs. technology, chaos vs. order. And in the first game the balance was disturbed in favor of nature, with the pagan god threatening to destroy technology and plunge humanity into darkness. In the metal age, the balance is disturbed in the opposite direction, towards technology. It’s like the death of the woodsie lord enabled the rise of Karras and the mechanists.

And Garrett once again his world's equivalent of Moorcock's Eternal Champion, has to step out of his role as selfish thief into heroic saviour of the balance. It's him doing his arc from the first game again, though that game to be fair established any heroic turn didn't stick in the last cutscene. And it's more convincingly done here, with his changes as a character being reflected in cutscenes by his growing friendship with Viktoria. They were enemies in the first game, but here team up to fight a greater foe, the mechanists, but grow genuinely fond of each other. It's basically a enemy-to-lovers (or at least friends) story. And it works because, Stephen Russell as Garrett and Terri Brosius as Viktoria have great chemistry.

The rapid advancement in technology has come with an environmental cost, as plant life is dying, probably from the pollution caused by mechanist machinery. The mechanist leader Karras doesn’t care and indeed plans to get further. His mechanists take the hammerite beliefs to its extreme. Not only are technology and constructed things holy, but organic material, plants and flesh and wood, are actually sinful. And what Karras wants to do is to get rid of what he considers sinful.

Karras is himself a cyborg, with mechanical implants into his body. Yet his achivements in turning flesh into machine go further in a much more sinister direction. He creates what he calls servants out of the most abject members of humanity, the homeless and sex workers. They are cyborg slaves, controlled by a mask surgically attached to their face. And the horror is that it seems to be more body control than mind control, as their consciousness remains, talking, expressing their horror of their situation and begging for death, as the mask controls their body. They will laugh in joy or thank Garrett if he kills them or renders them unsconscious.

Karras plans to use the masked servants to spread his “rust gas” which destroys all organic life. Only his own human parts will be left of human and organic life, and the rest will be his constructions, his robots.

This is less out of religious fanaticism than out of sheer egotism. It’s clear that he sees himself as more important than his supposed God, the builder, and the mechanists are more a cult of him than the builder. The real reason he wants to replace organic life with his own constructions is clear when you see what he makes. All his robots, including the security cameras, have a mask replica of his own face. Their speech are recordings of his voice, spouting not only his own mechanist tenets, but praising him for making them. What he wants is a world filled with mechanical constructions that he made, that look and speak like him, that he controls and who worships him as their creator.

This story of course reflects cyberpunk themes. The destruction of the natural environment, the merging of human and machine, and how that can be used to control humans and to reinforce class society. It’s all very cyberpunk thematically, except the robots are steam-powered. And that’s true to the steampunk genre’s literary roots.

Karras himself is similar to Shodan from Looking Glass’s own System Shock. Like her he wants to use technology to turn humans into his slaves and eventually remake life in his own image, with creations he made and who he controls and who worship him.

Except instead of the seductive tones of Terri Brosius, he has the voice of a nasal lisping nerd. The voice Stephen Russell (who also voices Garrett) gives him actually works. He is still a formidable foe because of his intelligence, but the voice makes him human. Despite his intelligence and apocalyptic plans, it’s all because he is a pathetic nerd man in love with his own ego. He feels real, and there are many techbro CEOs out there that are like Karras. Great villain.

Conclusion

And this is a great game, despite some weaker filler levels here and there. It’s commonly held up as one of the greatest stealth games and even PC games ever made, and I can see why. It builds intelligently on the first game to create an even better game. Again I do recommend buying it on GOG and using the excellent community-made T2fix to patch the game and make it even better

[pentacle-artist]

Okay, spoilers for the Mystery Journey anime and Azran Legacy, I think. Technically.

Anyway, I was rewatching Relics episodes 3+4 with my sister today, which has what the Relics are, and it looks like this

And, for me, this is a rewatch, and this time I was actively thinking about how, yeah, the stones that led here came from space, but this thing *has* to be man made. The first thought is the technologically advanced ancient civilization we're already familiar with: The Azran.

BUT that doesn't make sense for a couple of reasons.

Outside of the story, the writers wouldn't include them in this context because a viewer really would need knowledge of the main games for it to work, and the Azran stuff was already resolved in AL.

*In* story, however, it doesn't *look* like an Azran thing or *feel* like something they'd make.

*Major* spoilers for both previously things ahead.

The relics freeze someone in time so they can see the future. Since the Azran thought of themselves as gods, they terraformmed multiple areas across the world, and they built the golems to do menial stuff. I think they're more likely to invent immortality instead of these chryo chambers. I mean, similar stuff is used for Aurora, but that leads me to the look of it.

The relics are very angular, more stereotypically futuristic. This is what Azran stuff looks like:

It's generally more round and ornate. There is a little overlap, but Azran feels more classical. Also, they did have a thing for flying, but, as far as I know, not full-on *space.*

WHICH MEANS that there's probably some other ancient, forgotten civilization in the Laytonverse that loved space and potentially could've had a small bit of overlap with the Azran. It'd probably be very early on because it's implied that after the whole golem thing, advanced technology went down, and the Relics is pretty dang advanced.

It would also explain why Aurora's stasis was similar because the tech already existed, and the Azran could've improved it to not need specific frequencies to safely release whoever's frozen. Or maybe the fact that she's a golem would make her immune. Who knows!