[Flying Sparks

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Chapter 2 “Hazardous? I’ll show that manipulative, misanthropic, anti-establishment cretin just what hazardous means if he thinks I’m going to fold on this!” The sound of vigorous guitar riffs made a fitting accompaniment to the angry tirade despite originating on opposite sides of the communal area. Ama was glaring at a laptop that sat on a stained oak desk shoved against the large table near the kitchen. She tapped a fingernail on the wood as she read through the alert. “And what violation of basic human dignity has her royal prudishness’s undies in a bunch?” Em demanded with an affected sneer without looking up from his guitar scales. “Oh you’ll agree with this one tree-hugger,” Drake muttered from where he sat oiling his work boots. “Yeah,” Donny piped up, “Finney is trying to kill a perfectly healthy fir.” “What!” Em demanded, carefully placing his battered old acoustic guitar down in its case and darting over to look at the computer screen. “You mean apark tree?” Despite her simmering frustration Ama allowed a small smile to flicker across her face as she continued to type. “Get out of your pajamas and I’ll tell you,” Drake ordered pointing towards the bathroom door with a stained rag. “School starts in forty-five minutes and you still have breakfast and chores. That goes for you too Pip-squirt.” “I hope you washed your hands before you touched our food,” Em said with a frown. “Boot grease makes a great source of fatty acids.” Drake retorted. “Now go!” The two smaller boys muttered in annoyance but stumbled off to follow orders. “So what is up?” the youth asked as he bent his head back over the smooth leather of his boots. “Mrs. Finney wants that tree down that’s blocking her perfect view of Crescent Lake.” Ama replied in a dry tone. “One that’s clearly on park property?” Drake asked. “Indeedy-do.” Ama replied giving the paper in front of her a glare. “So how’s she justifying it?” Drake asked. “As a safety hazard to her house.” Ama replied. “And?” The biologist groaned and rubbed her face. “As far as I can tell the trunk is perfectly healthy. There is an old trash can lid grown into the trunk and a little discolored sap is leaking out there.” “Frass?” “Watch your language!” Donny interjected as he darted up to the table. “Frass is not a bad word,” Drake stated. “Have you let the chickens out?” “Yes, what does frass mean?” Donny asked as he started piling stir-fry onto his plate. “Look it up.” Drake ordered him. “Emerald! Breakfast ends in ten minutes! Get your tukus down here!” “It’s bad health to rush meals,” Em snapped out as he came down a narrow stairway with deliberate slowness. “It’s even worse for your health to skip meals altogether,” Drake growled threateningly. “Shut it and give me some eggs.” Em snapped back. “Emerald Waters Undersun,” Drake hissed out through gritted teeth. “You are going to get your own eggs.” The boy threw himself into a chair and glared at Drake with challenge in every line of his body. “Emerald,” Ama said in a calm tone. “I think you should apologize to your cousin now.” “Sorry I disturbed you Ama,” he offered without breaking eye contact with Drake. “Not me, him,” Ama said. “Sorry you had to hear that Donny.” Em said. Ama heaved a sigh and closed her computer. “Emerald,” Ama said. “Do you want to eat or go hungry?” Drake demanded. Ama glanced at him with a familiar uneasy look in her eyes and Drake fought down a wince. “Now, Em.” she said in a patient tone. “I’ll go hungry,” Em snapped, jumping up and stalking over to the couch. Donny kept his eyes fixed on his plate. Ama heaved a sigh before turning back to her computer. Em wriggled on the couch for several minutes before skulking back to the table. Drake moved to intercept him but Ama stopped him with a look and he let Em serve himself. Drake cast irritated glances at the wall clock as the time crept more and more into school time. Ama closed her computer and stood, then sighed, sat and opened it again. “I need to pick out their report topics,” Ama muttered. “I could do it,” Drake offered. “You do quite enough,” Ama replied briskly, as she scanned the news. “Here you go. For Donny, malfunctions at the Lewis- McChord Air Force Base air show.” A frown creased her face. “Wow, this is pretty serious. It looks like the F-16 demonstration team nearly got killed.” Drake whistled and leaned over her shoulder. “Multiple system failures,” he read out loud. “I am pretty sure that isn’t supposed to happen.” “Nope,” Ama agreed. “Here is a topic on big game management for Em.” “Reports due by next week?” Drake asked as the old printer on the desk began to squeal and grumble as it powered up. “Same as usual,” Ama confirmed. Drake put the printouts on top of the homework pile and moved to wash up the breakfast dishes. “I need to get to work early today so you two be good for Drake,” she called out placing a quick kiss on top of the smaller boys’ heads and giving Drake’s shoulder a friendly squeeze. “Good luck with Mrs. Finney, and stay safe.” Drake called out as she went into her room. The table was cleaned off and wiped down and the clink of forks gave way to the steady scratch of pencils on paper. They broke for a recess after religion and then lunch after history and math, and by the time the Grandfather clock in the corner struck two the younger boys twitching with energy. Drake made certain the internet was disconnected at the router, and chased Donny and Em out into the garden. “And don’t come in until dark,” he ordered tossing two snack bags out after them. Donny as usual snatched his food and disappeared into the small orachard. Low grumbles about troglodytes and the Amish wandered out into the high corn following Em and Drake shook his head in exasperation wondering, not for the first time how the dark haired princeling came from the same gene pool as his little brother. The kitchen being mostly ordered Drake was turning to put the last random dirty sock in the hamper when a gnarled hand clutching a cane head appeared in the corner of his eye, causing his heart to make a valiant attempt to bolt out of his throat. “Abuelita!” he gasped forcing his hands down from the guard position. “Where did you come from?” Smoldering black eyes ran searchingly over the tall youth. An impossibly long mane of streaked silver and black hair was barely contained in a thick braid. A sharply pointed nose perched over a small wrinkled mouth. A vibrant red horse-hair serape hung over her shoulders concealing everything except her brown and gnarled hands which currently clutched the old tree branch she used as a cane. Drake had been more than a little comforted by the fact that both Em and Donny had admitted to having the thought ‘witch’ every time time they saw her as well. “From the hand of God by the bodies of my sainted mother and father,” she replied after a long, uncomfortable silence. She always spoke in a low husky voice that suggested years of smoking, though Drake had never smelled even stale smoke on her. “Right,” Drake blinked and grinned at the response; the one she always gave. “So you are here for their Spanish lesson? I have their grammar books ready and-” The narrow end of the tree branch rapped against the concrete of the floor causing Drake to jump. Abuelita glared at him, locking his gaze and holding him in place with it for a moment. “I am here for their lessons,” she finally stated, “and you are there for my payment.” Drake thought longingly of the repair and maintenance manuals in the cab of the truck and the new tool he was itching to try, but he forced a grin on his face. “Yes ma’am,” he said. “What can I get you today?” Abuelita pulled out a bag of woven grass from under her serape causing the indistinct patterns on the cloth to shift and change. “Take this,” she ordered him, “and collect me the cobalt blue berries that grow on a single stalk close to the ground. They must come from the mountain to the south east of here by the crystal brook.” Drake nodded, and took the little bag, he didn’t quite manage to infused his gestures with enthusiasm he supposed. The old woman, probably wouldn’t have noted it anyway. She turned and moved towards the garden door without waiting for any other reply. However she called out over her shoulder as he turned to find his own way out of the rambling structure. “Don’t dawdle little one. A storm brews in the distance.” He tried not to roll his eyes at that, the weather forecast was clear and eighties for the next week according to the morning fire report Ama had printed. The youth only nodded and slipped around the corner. He circled the barn and pulled a set of loose tan pants and tunic out of the cubby. The soft worn leather almost perfectly matched the forest floor for color as did the moccasins he pulled on after them. His morning running clothes were modern stuff that wicked the sweat away from him and let him speed through the forest. These were his free day clothes. The ones that let him disappear into the forest and wander. Abuelita, for all of her demands, would tend Em and Donny until he returned no matter how late that was, and with the Park’s yearly budget talks still under way it was highly unlikely Ama would be home until long after the sun had set. Despite still hearing the call of the half restored truck he felt something lossening in him already. The soft cotton and smooth leather rested easily against his skin and Drake slipped into the forest. Freedom; for the moment at least, blissful freedom. Pushing aside the guilt that accompanied the thought as well as any lingering worries about his charges the youth let his legs carry him through the trees. He shunned the man made paths, following the faint animal trails. This close to the barn they were as clear to him as if they were named city streets. Being animal trails, they invariably led him to water. Today he stopped at a trickling stream, took off his moccasins, and rolled up his pants legs. The youth turned and followed the thin flow of icy water upstream, letting it steal the heat from his body through his feet. Some distance upstream, the stream widened and pooled under a boulder. There Drake paused and pulled an old black compass out of his pocket. Behind him he knew every trail and tree. Ahead was a broad swath of National Wilderness he would have to cross, or possibly Bureau of Land Management or even state managed forests where he more rarely wandered. It was hard to tell where the boundaries were from the ground. The clearing he wanted for the berries was solidly in BLM land and he still had quite a ways to go to get there. The stand of timber that stood between him and his goal was dense with young tree and branches that frequently formed impenetrable hedges he had to track around and he checked his compass regularly as he climbed in elevation. Even so the youth found he had wandered too far off his route and had to correct when he spotted the boundary fence. However he was in no hurry and he reached the clearing long before the sun told him it was time to turn around. Sometime in the past some unknown force had carved a shallow trench across the side of one of the small mountains that that dotted the wilderness. It had puzzled Drake at first. The scour was at the wrong angle to be an old rock slide, and terminated in a near perfectly circular clearing at the lower end. Centuries old Douglas Firs abruptly gave way to a second ring only a few decades old. Those were in turn beginning to produce cones and a smattering of knee high saplings. The rest of the space was completely given over to wildflowers. No matter what season Drake visited it he found a riot of life. There had been an early spring and many herbs that normally would have waited a month or more were already in full bloom in the mountain meadow. A white wave of foamflower washed in from the deep forest surrounding the clearing, sending up knee high stalks covered in the delicate white blooms. Late trillium hid close to the roots of the great firs, many having shed their white corollas and begun to put forth their bulbous seed heads. Fuzzy white baneberry blossoms nodded gently in the breeze. A riot of yellow and purple spread across the ground as vetch and buttercups and a host of clovers competed for space in the open sun. Great stalks of lupine as high as his head thrust up their purple and blue proudly from thick clusters of palm shaped leaves. Pink shooting stars and violet harebells crouched under the protection of the larger plants. Indian paintbrush lit the scene with flames of red and orange. Where a spring seeped into the meadow elephant’s head flared neon pink and corydalis bushes put forth blushing blooms. Pale green wild orchids stood along the wet spot and the swarms of bees danced from them to the glacier lilies. Sometimes, as he bent over a tiny blossom and traced the intricate network of veins in the petals, drank in the scent, and felt the smooth surface of the leaves an otherworldly feeling would come over him. It was as if there was another world just out of range of his senses. If he could only really look, the thin illusion that was blocking him would slip away and reveal the real world underneath it. “Look Awiegwa,” his father would whisper, pointing at a deer mouse perched on a fallen log. “What does it see?” Awiegwa would screw up his face and squint. Trying to find the answer to the question. Awiegwa had often wondered how so many flowers had come to be in the relatively small area. He had identified dozens of species and there were more he had yet to determine. The clearing was always the first place to bloom and the last to go dormant. Many of the flowers seemed to utterly defy their usual blooming patterns. However, as time passed he had simply come to accept it. It was one of the small good things that brought back the memories of his father. If it didn’t quite follow the rules Ama had taught him, well an impossible clearing in the mountains wasn’t a place for rules. The particular bloom that Abuelita had requested had taken full advantage of the early sun and had already put forth a few cobalt blue berries; easily spotted at the edge of the clearing in the delicate sea of white flowers. However before he left the shade of the forest for the meadow the youth paused and closed his eyes. Bole wasn’t always here, but he was often enough that Awiegwa always checked for him. Carefully he reconstructed the clearing in his mind; marking every tree and boulder on the edge. Three years he had been coming here and each time it was easier to recreate the clearing. Breathing evenly he opened his eyes, letting the mental image merge with the actual. There was a brief moment of confusion as details like the play of light through branches and the trembling of small clusters of flowers fixed themselves but there was only one truly jarring note. Awiegwa didn’t let his eyes focus on the disparity; he never did anymore, but a warm smile spread across his features as he slipped silently into the meadow. He was here. As the youth moved in a low crouch, gathering the first fruits of the Queen’s Cup, he let his peripheral vision linger on a particular snag. There was nothing obviously interesting about it, other than the fact that it had not been there the last time Awiegwa was here. He had named the wanderer Bole, because it most often appeared as a thick tree trunk; sometimes living, sometimes dead. Occasionally it would be a boulder or simply a mound in the dirt. Often it wasn’t in the clearing at all. If the youth moved forward and tried to closely examine it he could never find anything to suggest it was something other than a tree or rock. He had thought about taking a sample occasionally, had taken his knife out to do just that more than once, but something always held him back. Bole was a part of this place. Dissecting him would be too much like attempting to dissect his sense of his father’s presence here. The youth had never told anyone about this place, not even Ama with who could get most things out of him easily enough. Down at the house, in town, when he was Drake; solid, reliable, first up in the morning, two grades ahead in school with a penchant for science Drake, a productive member of modern society with a promising future and his mother smiling at him. Here he could be Awiegwa. Here he could believe in the ancient medicines his father had dug out of dusty old tomes and brought to life from the forest litter. Every time Awiegwa left the clearing and headed back towards home reality would reassert itself. Bole would resolve back into a figment of his imagination, created from pride in a somewhat better than average memory and what the social workers had called an “intriguing imagination”. When he reached the house and become solidly Drake again flickers of embarrassment would begin eating at him for letting his senses trick him like that, but as long as the blooms nodded around him in this garden Bole could exist even on a Thursday. The little woven grass bag filled up with the berries fairly quickly and Awiegwa soon stretched out of his crouch and let his gaze wander contentedly over the clearing. As it always did, the warm space was working its special magic. Worries about Em getting out of his schoolwork, of not paying enough attention to the quiet Donny, of letting Ama see his petty resentments: it had all melted away from his muscles, thoughts of college costs and abandoning his duties dissolved into an acute sense of the now. The leaves rustled softly in a barely-there breeze, the heavy scent of some unidentified blossom filled his lungs, a dozen shades of green framed the rainbow of flowers, and over and above it all the creaking of the firs as the wind played over them. It was at times like these that he felth he could almost see into heaven; that something wonderful that existed just beyond his senses, and all he had to do was reach out and claim it. The youth took a deep breath and let himself fall backwards onto a handy rise in the forest floor. His path had taken him to the foot of the snag and he shifted slightly to align himself with the gnarled roots. One hand gripped a time smoothed root. “Ama trusted me enough to go out of state,” he murmured. “That’s the first time she’s done that. Usually she has Abulita stay with us to fend off the Harsh, but she said it’s long past legal now.” It was his imagination of course that made him think the root vibrated in his hand in response. Many a long hour he had spent in this clearing with the wanderer. He had poured out his frustrations and anguishes over life’s injustices, had shared his secrets as he grew, and had shouted his triumphs. Sometimes he felt closer to Bole than to any of his human friends. However, something that sounded like his mother’s voice warned him that there was something odd about this and that awareness was the main reason he had kept this place secret from Ama. Their mother hadn’t exactly liked stuff like that. She had never objected to his father’s digging up the old stories of her people. Making cross generational connections between elders, who more often than not lived isolated lives, and the next generation, was an admirable goal in of itself in her eyes; objectively a social good. Storytelling was only the natural course for these relationships to take, but subtle looks had warned even a very young Drake that it was best to cautious what he shared with his mother. At least of those things that couldn’t be placed on a microscope slide. So this was Awigewa’s place, and while his father’s spirit wanders the flowers with he had never felt his mother here. He let his focus drift up, and up. Dark blue Lupine nodded over his head framing the faint crisscross of jet contrails that threw a light haze over an otherwise cloudless sky. His clothed grew deliciously hot from the spring sun. The ground too had eagerly accepted the energy and now it conducted the heat into the muscles of his back. Bole’s wood beneath him was warmer even than the surrounding ground and an idle thought traced across Awiegwa’s awareness; something about it being odd for the light colored wood and relatively dry wood to retain more heat than the darker soil surrounding it. His mind was filled with the impression of a goal. He had been meaning to do, something. Something fun, yes, exploring, he’d meant to see if whatever had dug that den by the second boulder was cubing this year. He would just get up and do that in a minute. His back was so warm and comfortable.

[“Flying Sparks”

Another foray into the lives of Drake McCarty, Ama Love, and the rest of their siblings as they discover that something alien is out in the forest around their home.](https://www.indiegogo.com/projects/flying-sparks-a-novel-of-dragon-bear-and-boy/coming_soon)[https://www.indiegogo.com/projects/flying-sparks-a-novel-of-dragon-bear-and-boy/coming\_soon](https://www.indiegogo.com/projects/flying-sparks-a-novel-of-dragon-bear-and-boy/coming_soon) #FlyingSparks #ScienceFiction #Scifi #Story #novel #book #DrakeMcCarty #AmaLove #Donny #Em #Bard #Bole #Aliens #Spaceships #Crystals #fireflies #NPS #NationalPark #Doctor #Sever #family #storm #writing #reading #drama #literature #author #BettyAdams #DyingEmbers #Dragons #ThingsThatGoBoomp #Indiegogo #CrowdFunding

Someone please deny me of my delusions. I know people toss that word around too often but l'm seriously struggling and just done.
Me [F17], has had a crush on a guy my age for quite a while now. I confessed to him years back and it never really went anywhere since I basically blocked him for a brief moment after getting rejected sorta? (He said he liked me and the next day he said he used to.)
He followed me again our sophomore year out of the blue a few months after I unblocked him and apologized for disappearing after confessing my freshmen year during quarantine, he was matching pfps with another girl at the time. So, I knew he probably followed me out of some sort of truce.
That was until his pfp changed months down the line and he began liking my story. It was mutual at first just liking each others story but I stopped posting and stopped viewing his story because I knew I basically was creating a false interpersonal relationship with him online. And getting my hopes up.
We go to the same school and everything so I thought it was weird to keep doing it.
Then Instagram came out with the notes feature, and he basically began talking to me with very brief and meaningless conversations that are stupid looking back but we're fun and interesting. But he was showing interest in me and I didn't know whether to take it a token of friendship or romantic interest so I again backed away.
The last time we talked was when I wished him a happy birthday three-four months ago. But rarely now he'll sometimes make notes that correlate with mines, never messaging me though like before. And that's basically where we are now. Now this is where the delusions come in.
He's currently matching pfps with a brand new girl.
And lately he's been only posting notes close in time whenever I do, about her. Because I don't post as often on Instagram anymore I just found it weird how every time I do make a note, he also somehow posts one within a close time period in hopes of me he seeing it??? Since I try to avoid his stories now.
The other day, I make my bio a song title to a song I listen to often and I check his page one day to see a part of the lyric of the song in his bio. And I'm like woah crazy coincidence.
I could make a list of crazy synchronizations but I think you guys get the point. He does something that makes me question if it’s direct towards me because of how weirdly similar it is.
I'm not sure if I’m just a silly infatuated teen creating an imaginary scenario to feel good about myself or this guy is seriously trying to provoke something out of me because of my silence.
I honestly wouldn't be surprised since he jokes about being a joe Goldberg…..
I honestly need to work on my avoidant issues I know, but I want to see others people perspective on this and maybe get some advice.

Hey everyone -- I have written on this subreddit about quitting the internet, and recently there have been some encouraging developments with regards to limiting technology in certain spaces. Rather than take the traditional style of writing, I wrote the following piece sarcastically because it highlights the positive direction we are heading in as a culture while simultaneously highlighting the frustration I still feel with it. You can also read this here for different formatting as well as photos. --- Last week I found myself at a crossroads—taken and deposited there by a friend—and now I am left to think. Yohanna was the beginning of a problem because she brought me to a small street that cramped buildings squeeze together. In what could only have been a mistake of urban planning, there was no highway running through it—to the contrary it was shut down for antiquated sauntering over inefficient cobblestone that left a bitter taste in my mouth. On this little planet there were no skyscrapers and the air was arid from the dearth of infinity pools. All of the buildings were covered in chipped paint. We persevered and went on. A steep staircase led us to a room full of silvers who drank wine by the bottle, and to my dismay I noticed a few young couples driven by the desire to do something different, to feel the dying pulse of past generations. Things got worse. The club was decorated in the style of the 1920s, a time long before people were creative enough to think up the fruits that have paved society’s evolution to the present day. I did not see any flat screen televisions, there was no pedestal surrounded by mirrors to pose in front of, and the female attire neither adequately exposed the bust nor the curve. We persevered and went on. A little while later—after ordering a drink in an attempt to mainline some pleasure—a group of people made their way on-stage. They carried metal objects in their hands (one was even holding wooden sticks), and when they stood in front of the traditional red drapes I recognized from pictures, the crowd used their itchy hands to applaud instead of photograph, undoubtedly confusing the point of the matter. The group commenced and—against my wishes, only for the sake of journalistic integrity—I am forced to admit that for the time that they played time itself disappeared, swallowed by the whole audience’s undivided attention. But when I felt myself falling into too deep a state of immersion, I snapped back with a gleeful thought: the music was of an outdated sort known as jazz that not even Jesus himself could promulgate—there is no way to really dance to the stuff. § In retrospect the event was traumatic—to the point of requiring the requisite therapeutic intervention—because it reminded me of what we had a firm grip on only one or two decades ago. Then, the constraints of technology did not enable the populace to film entire concerts themselves, and the paupers did not have the ability to freeze the ephemeral moments we effortlessly make permanent. I have heard some state that the acme of culture and technology came right before the turn of the millennium, but on them I shine the simple irrefutable light at the end of man’s search for meaning: What is the point of living moments that our children cannot find in the fossils we create? There is none. We did not cross over the precipice into modernity because it was easy, but because it was hard. I have video footage of when I saw the Red Hot Chili Peppers. I met the girl at the bar because I liked her story. I broadcasted to the world that I too saw the Mona Lisa. There is a different energy that blossoms in spaces where the only escape is into the activity, and we must prevent the wheels of culture from rolling back to a time where it is easily accessible. Such environments cannot be created alone because they require a widespread dedication to preserving an experience, so we must stand together to prevent them from occurring. Just as we use phone checks to crack the depth of conversation, we must block the passages to immersive fields that can only be entered with the entire group’s consent. Thankfully, to reach these rarefied realms requires both time as well as focus, so it is essential to use interruptions to break them with the force of detonating buildings. But as of late, I am growing worried. Historically, we have seen successful regulations reduce the prevalence of vital activities like cigarette smoking, and similar intervention is beginning again. Last week, the Surgeon General warned that social media poses a “profound risk” to the youth; earlier this month the American Psychological Association issued its first-ever health advisory on social media use; and next month Florida public schools are likely to block access to social media through their networks. On the cultural front, trendsetters are resurrecting film cameras alongside the vinyl record sales that keep on climbing—up another 20% in 2022 to the sickening tune of $1.2 billion. As I wrote in Keep Modernity, Exit the Metaverse—celebrities such as Aaron Paul and Aziz Ansari are endorsing base alternatives to smartphones that are without the frills that define our civilization; and—in what surely must be the work of propagandists—all sorts of research is indicating that humanity is unhappy with the current state of affairs: one poll claims that 70% of concertgoers do not think screens belong at concerts; another lies that 66% of people are turned off by texting on a date; a couple of charlatans state that phones make dinner more insipid. I am terrified. This sort of latent demand for change—this irreverent disappointment with the direction of our culture—is becoming more widespread. If one listens closely to the silence of our generation and studies the arc of history, a possibility emerges that we might only be living through a fantastic blip more akin to a short-term reaction to our wonderful developments than a calculated long-term adjustment. Musicians such as Tool and Placebo are designating specific areas for phones at their shows, and a nightclub called Berghain has instituted a backwards no-picture policy. The changes are coming fast and we must act get back on track. If we do not, college students might begin branding parties as phone-free, and museums might disallow them for one day each week. Restaurants may provide spaces to deposit devices, and bars could even go as far as recreating anachronistic booths. Before our very eyes they will redesign our establishments and create social stigmas that prevent our access to technology. We find ourselves at the beginning of a wave poised to fight splendor and replace it with soot. To prosper in modernity we must put a stop to the madness—before it is too late.

Instead of her Ultimate regaining 5 energy for each enemy defeated (barely comes up, not that useful), she gains one point of charge each time she uses her Ultimate. This will let her follow up attack proc a little bit more often and make her damage more relevant. Thoughts?

Sorry Reddit for any errors am writing from my phone and it is also my first time writing on Reddit. I had a friend who I had been friends with since high school which was 8 years ago. When she joined my high school I was the first in my class to welcome her as I didn’t want her to feel lonely of isolated because girls in my class can be mean to new students sometimes and because of that I decided to welcome every new girl that join the class. Anyways me and this girl became so close and we even went to the same college before she transferred to pursue her degree somewhere else and that’s when she started ghosting me or giving me excuses on her being busy whenever I call her or text her as we couldn’t see each other due to Covid and our class were online. At first I thought she was busy and I should give her some time as she worked and I didn’t. One day I just decided to reinstall my instagram and guess what my friend was there having time and going places with her new friends. She didn’t post it but one of her college friends whom I followed posted it and I DMed her and she said they were going places and just having fun. I was shocked she told me she didn’t have time to even text or answer my call and here she is going places and making new friends. I remember one time my whole family got the virus and we were so sick that nobody had the energy to cook food( thank God my uncle ordered us food and delivered to us) and I texted my friend how sick I was and she didn’t even call me. That’s when I decided to go no contact with her and I have been happier after until last year I got married and my cousins who she follows on social media posted my wedding photos and she asked for my new contact from one of my cousins and my cousin who didn’t know about me going no contact with her gave her my contact and she started blowing my phone sending me messages and calling me my family nickname that I told her about it when we used to be friends, when she called me that name I felt the urge to puke, she never called me by my nickname like ever and here she was texting sweet words to me and how she missed our friendship. I didn’t reply to any of her text. Maybe I made up situations in my head and she didn’t meant bad and I just ended my friendship so quickly. So was I wrong going no contact with her.

My dearest friend, today, I embarked on a daring adventure into the mystical grotto, drawn by its alluring unknown. Anticipation mingled with the cool, damp air as I stepped into its mouth, captivated by the enchanting mystique that emanated from its depths.
Accompanied by the whimsical bear and the graceful cat, we courageously ventured through the labyrinthine passages of the cave system. The bear, adorned with kaleidoscopic hues, exuded a gentle and joyous energy that harmonized with the enchanting flora and bioluminescent fungi. The cave walls danced with vibrant colors, pulsing with otherworldly energy. The cat moved with effortless grace, weaving through the ancient stalagmites that reached towards the heavens. Guided by their presence, we ventured deeper into the mysterious depths, driven by curiosity and wonder.
However, our journey took an unexpected turn when the bear stumbled upon a concealed aperture or ancient contraption, vanishing into the abyss before our eyes. The room engulfed in darkness, as if even the plants themselves retreated, acknowledging the gravity of the situation. But amidst the shadows, determination surged within me. I swiftly retrieved the rope, anchoring it securely. With the cat on my shoulder and a sense of responsibility in my heart, I descended into the abyss, propelled by urgency.
As I descended into the depths and settled onto a ledge, a sense of relief washed over me as I saw the bear, safe and content, tending to itself. However, as I turned my gaze forward, a mesmerizing and perplexing sight unfolded before my eyes. I found myself standing in the midst of a vast chamber, and within it lay an abandoned town frozen in time. Crumbling structures stood tall like giants, draped in vines that told tales of resilience and nature's reclamation. The cobblestone streets came alive with the presence of peculiar creatures, blurring the lines between imagination and reality. It was as if an enchanting society thrived within this forgotten town, nestled amidst the remnants of a bygone era. The whimsical life that animated the streets sparked an insatiable curiosity within me, urging me to delve deeper and uncover the stories woven into the very walls and alleys. Yet the stifling air, making it difficult to breathe, forced me to realize that I would have to abruptly shorten my time here.
Anticipation filled the air as I looked to the bear, wondering if it held the knowledge of an escape. To my astonishment, it defied its size, ascending the rope with supernatural grace. Relief washed over me, dispelling the fear of seeking an alternative path. Inspired by its ascent, I followed suit, gripping the rope tightly and ascending with determination. The cat gliding alongside with effortless grace, I couldn't help but feel a twinge of jealousy.
Reaching the top, a remarkable sight awaited us. The once ambient fungi and plants burst forth in radiant splendor, illuminating our path out of the mystical depths. Vibrant and alive, the enchanting flora bid us farewell with a mesmerizing display. Their luminescence created a magical trail, guiding us back to the familiar world outside the grotto. With wonder and gratitude, we followed nature's illuminated path, cherishing its symbiotic beauty and the parting gift it bestowed upon us.
As I left inside the grotto my mind was filled with wonder and intrigue. What stories did the weathered walls and forgotten alleys hold? Was there a grand civilization that once thrived here, leaving behind only fragments of their existence? Who were those creatures, living within the town, exhibiting such remarkable coherence in their existence and mannerisms? The mysteries of the town lingered in my thoughts, igniting a curiosity that refused to wane. It reminded me that beyond the veil of our everyday lives, there are hidden realms of enchantment waiting to be discovered. And so my dearest friend, with a heart brimming with fascination, I carried the echoes of the forgotten town with me, forever inspired to seek what more wonders I can find.

Anything you want to share.
Stories of all kinds,poems,lyrics, scripts, random ideas/ shower thoughts you scribbled down, the half story you have writers block on, late night faced ideas about the universe you wrote on a napkin that’s kinda wet and hard to read, that one time at that festival you couldn’t write anything but you tried later because it was definitely the proverbial “truth” about everything… Etc…
Was going to start a community for stories of all genres with less rules but… this seemed more fun.
Only rules:

1. Abide by the Reddit rules.
   
2. Please advise in the beginning if it is appropriate for all ages and/or include appropriate trigger warnings.
   
3. Do not post anything intentionally mean, or hateful in a clearly inappropriate way or directed to any group of people in a generalized way. I think you get the point or see below:
   

• Rule 3 does not include angry poems about that person who hardcore broke your heart. Or some random conspiracy theory that popped into your head while you weren’t paying attention to that lecture; confessions from your old diary you just found; some crazy randomness from a dream journal.

These are just some examples of posts that would be welcomed.
Posts that don’t follow those rules I will have to remove.
*Most important rules 0 and 5: Don’t talk about fight club.
Have fun… please share and join because I genuinely want to see what comes out of this!

DC Next presents:

CYBORG

Issue Thirty: End.exe
Written by Deadislandman1
Edited by ClaraEclair and AdamantAce
 
Arc: Catharsis
 
 
“Are you ready, Victor?”
“More ready than I’ve ever been in my life.”
This high up in the sky, there would normally be wind, its howling loud enough to drown out all other sounds. Had there been clouds, they would have impeded his sight, forcing him to weather the condensed water within. The vast blue of the sky would overwhelm his eyes at every turn. But Victor and V were in the Metal, and no such things existed within the Metal. There was no resistance as they glided towards Thinker’s strange, corrupting compound, no wind to fly against. They moved this way purely because this was how some of the highest beings in the Metal’s hierarchy moved, above the other programs and signals on the ground.
The denizens of the Metal had declared him their hero, their champion, and it was his job to remove Thinker’s influence from the realm.
Gradually, the two began to slow down as they descended to one of the shimmering black walls of Thinker’s compound, whose presence was a tumor within the Metal, threatening to upset the fragile balance of a newborn power. This was enough cause to stop Thinker, but Victor had more reasons to confront his co-creator. He was holding his inventor — no, his father — hostage, a petty act of torture for the gall of standing up to one of the smartest supervillains on the planet.
Victor could not let Silas Stone suffer any longer. He would not let this final remaining door within himself to remain ajar, forever taunting him like a tapestry that could not be finished. Today, this horror would end. Today, Victor would find real peace within himself.
Victor touched down, the true size of the spire dawning on him. V landed next to him, walking up to the fortress and placing a hand on the wall, “My protocols will work their ways through Thinker’s firewalls, but once we are inside, we will be on our own.”
“No use waiting around then,” said Victor, “Just know that whatever happens, we stick together. That’s the only way we’ll be able to get out of this.”
V paused for a moment, clearly appreciating Victor’s faith in their partnership. Turning back to the wall, V closed her eyes and, within moments, a hole formed nearby.
“Woah, that was fast,” said Victor.
“Yes I…” V blinked. “There were only a few firewalls. This seems incredibly illogical. One would think one of the smartest men alive would keep a high level of security.”
“Maybe it’s a trap?” Victor peered inside the fortress, “A way to catch us….”
Victor paused, his eye widening at the sight before him, “...off guard.”
Before the two was not some horrifying death maze, nor was it a vast lair of villainy, or a lab made for suffering. Before them… was a neighborhood, the kind with straight roads, white picket fences, freshly cut grass, and vibrantly painted houses. As Victor stepped across the threshold of the walls, he was immediately hit by a wave of nostalgia. This place was so familiar.
“This… I grew up here!” said Victor, “Or… the real Victor did.”
V stepped through behind Vic and, like clockwork, the wall sealed up behind her. “I do not understand. What is the purpose of manufacturing such a recreation?”
“I don’t… I just…” Victor clenched his fists. How dare he do this. He wasn’t the real Victor Stone, yet there was such anger in the fact that Thinker was defiling the memories of the Stone family. Victor Stone grew up happy here, and this place was nothing but some sham… some charade meant to taunt whoever was inside.
His father.
Like a runaway train, Victor erupted into a sprint down the street, V following after him. She tried to ask him where he was going, but Victor knew she would understand once they arrived. He remembered the place well; his namesake had lived there, after all.
Halfway down the road, they arrived at the Stone family home, which had been reconstructed perfectly. Racing across the front yard that he had played catch in since childhood, Victor kicked down the door, running inside through familiar halls. “Dad? Dad?!”
“Victor!” V barreled in after him. “Perhaps this is a rash action.”
“This place… He had to make it to screw with my dad. He had to!” Victor shouted. “Dad?! Dad, where are you?”
“Who the hell is screaming? What is--?”
Victor whirled around, a voice that felt both familiar and foreign entering his ears. Balling up his fists, he expected a fight, only for his heart to drop.
It was Victor Stone. No cybernetic enhancements, no powers, justVictor Stone, sitting in a chair across the hall, in the dining room, with a laptop in front of him. He stood up in shock, slamming the laptop shut as he stared at Victor in horror, “What the fuck?!”
“Wha– Why–” Cyborg stared in amazement at his eerily accurate counterpart. He didn’t understand what was going on.
“Victor? I heard screaming! Is everything alright?”
An older man stepped into the hall, clearly distressed by all the shouting, and as Cyborg turned to face him, he immediately felt every muscle in his body loosen.
Silas Stone stood before him, as old as Victor had expected him to be. What he didn’t expect was to find the man to be full of vigor, of life. He seemed almost… energized, like he’d lived the last few years in absolute happiness.
Then Silas spoke, and it was then that Cyborg felt his soul truly sink into the abyss, “Who in God’s name are you?! What are you doing in my house?!”
“You…” Cyborg looked to V, “Is he..?.”
V stepped in front of Cyborg, taking a rudimentary scan of both Silas and the other Victor, “He is indeed Silas Stone, he does not have the same signature as the other denizens of the Metal. This Victor however… does.”
“So he’s a fake?” said Cyborg.
“What the fuck are you talking about?!” said Victor, “Who are you?”
“Please, leave my house!” said Silas, “This is private property!”
“You… you don’t understand,” said Cyborg, who turned to AI Victor, “And… I’m sorry. You’re not a… I shouldn’t call you a fake.”
“What do you mean?! What’s going on?!” asked AI Victor.
“Get out!” shouted Silas, “Get out right now or I’m calling the police.”
Cyborg didn’t know why Silas couldn’t remember him, remember anything, but looking between him and the other Victor, a haunting theory moved to the forefront of his mind; this place was an elaborate illusion, a way to keep Silas placated, and if Victor wanted to save him, he would need to wake his father from the dream. The T-Beacons Elinore had repurposed would need to charge, and he didn’t know if he’d be able to keep Silas restrained for that. Besides… it would be easier if Silas knew what was really happening before he left… and he would get a chance to speak to his father in earnest.
Cyborg moved forward, placing his hands on Silas’s shoulders, “Silas, I know this seems crazy, but I need you to hear me out.”
“Stop! Let go of me!” said Silas.
“Please, Dad, just…hear me out!” said Cyborg.
Silas froze…one word completely taking him off balance, “Did… did you just call me Dad?”
Cyborg swallowed, “Yeah… and it’s a long story… but you need to hear it. I promise.”
Silas shook his head. “I don’t… I don’t understand. What are you?”
Cyborg grimaced, “I’m… your creation.”
“But… I don’t remember creating you…” said Silas, “Why would I need to make you.”
“Because…” Cyborg glanced back at AI Victor, who was clearly completely confused by the situation. “Because the real Victor Stone died. He died during a disaster in Coast City and… I was the replacement.”
Silas grew white as a sheet, “What? What do you…? No… no, my son isn’t dead. He’s right here!”
Silas looked to the AI Victor, and Cyborg shook his head, “He’s just code… and in a way, so am I. I’m sorry but… the real Victor Stone is gone, has been for years.”
“No, it’s not true.” Silas glared at Cyborg, “Why should I believe you?! How do I know you’re telling the truth?”
“Just… look at me,” said Cyborg. “Look at me, Dad.”
Slowly, Silas felt his breath steady, his eyes locked onto Cyborg. He scanned the metal man in front of him, from the soles of his steel feet to the fusion of flesh and armor on his head. He reached out in trepidation, running his fingers up and down the armor, then running them over Cyborg’s face. The AI Victor watched in confusion, still utterly lost at what was going on.
Cyborg flinched at the touch of his father’s hand, it felt so… alien knowing the context of his own creation, and yet where he was falling into unfamiliar territory, Silas was being brought back into his own past, to memories he had lost.
Then, in a blink, something changed in Silas. He stumbled back, eyes wide, and Cyborg knew that he had awakened what was buried. Silas shuddered, falling to his knees, “No! No I… I did lose him… I did lose my boy…”
“Dad?” AI Victor trudged towards Silas, “Dad, I’m right here, I–”
“No! My boy has been gone for years,” said Silas, looking at both Cyborg and AI Victor. “And try as I might, I know that, in the end, neither of you are really him… really a replacement.”
Cyborg looked between his father and the AI replication of himself, feeling immense pity for both. The AI looked so confused, like a newborn who’d just gotten lost at the supermarket. Cyborg nodded to V, who quickly ushered the AI into another room to explain what was going on. Then, he turned back to Silas and took a knee, “Are you… God, there’s no point in asking the question. Do you remember what happened, after Thinker…”
Silas sniffled, attempting to piece himself back together, “H-He locked me in this place, but it was so… different. There was an army being built, preparations for war. He… interfaced with me, forced himself into the deepest crevices of my own mind! My god, Victor… he knows everything about me, about you! He knows every detail about every single thing I’ve ever built.”
Cyborg grimaced. If he knew every detail, then that meant that he knew what every single one of Cyborg’s tricks were. There would be no surprises, “God, I… I should’ve woken earlier, come here earlier. I’m so sorry.” said Cyborg.
“No, no… don’t blame yourself for any of this, it wasn’t your fault,” said Silas. “What happened here is Thinker’s fault, and his alone.”
Silas began to calm down, his rate of breath slowing down as he stood up. “But… it does confuse me that he would place me in this… illusion.”
“More torture?” asked Cyborg.
“No, I felt… at peace here,” said Silas. “Thinker was always so mechanical, so hyper focused on producing the results he wanted. Building me a… dream land? It just… doesn’t make any sense.”
“Well… whatever his reasons, it doesn’t matter. I’m getting you out of here, then I’m stopping him once and for all,” said Cyborg.
“What?!” Silas whirled around to face Cyborg. “You can’t! In this place, he’s more powerful than he was in the real world.”
“And I’ve been a superhero for three years,” said Cyborg. “I know my way around threats, and whatever his plans are now, that doesn’t change that he has to face justice for what he did to both of us.”
Pulling out one of the T-Beacons, he placed it in Silas’s hands. “Press the ‘T,’ and after five minutes, you’ll be able to head back to reality. Since you came here from the real world, you’ll rematerialize in your own body.”
“But what about you?” asked Silas. “I can’t just leave you alone to–”
“Dad!” Cyborg placed a hand on his father’s shoulders, “Listen to me… over the last three years, I’ve done so much. I’ve made friends, I’ve made enemies, I’ve made a hell of a life out there. Hell, I even made it into the Justice Legion!”
“The Justice… Legion?” asked Silas.
“Yeah, its… it’s like the new Justice League, but nevermind that,” said Cyborg. “The point is, a lot has happened, a lot has changed, but Thinker… he’s the ghost that’s been haunting me. I came here because I needed to finish things, and to save you.”
Silas frowned. “I still don’t–”
“I know you feel guilty about… my creation,” said Cyborg. “And yeah, you threw me into one hell of a world, but trust me when I say that I’ve made my mark… and I wanna keep making my mark with you beside me.”
Silas turned away. “You… want me to be with you… in your life… after everything?”
“Yeah… I do,” said Cyborg. “Because despite everything, I’m a living thing because of you… and the real Victor Stone loved you a lot. I’ve got his memories, his feelings… and trust me when I say that what he would’ve wanted, is what I want.”
Silas stared at Cyborg, at a loss for words. Looking down at the T-Beacon and then back at his own creation, he sighed, “You… you’ll come back to me… right?”
“I’ll always come back to you, Dad,” said Cyborg. “Always.”
Sniffling, Silas tackled his son with an embrace, and Cyborg returned it with a bear hug of his own. For a singular moment, the two stood in silence, tears streaming from both of their eyes. After four long years, they were finally seeing each other, meeting for the first time, yet with memories that spanned decades of connection. Letting go of Cyborg, Silas wiped his eyes, “I… I need to sit down.”
“Take your time,” said Cyborg. “V can keep you safe until we go.”
“V?”
“My…” Cyborg paused, then tapped his head. “My friend in my head.”
“Ah,” Silas nodded, then turned away, but couldn’t help but chuckle. “Heh… he named her. Typical Victor.”
Silas walked down the hall, and as Cyborg followed, V emerged from the dining room, “I have explained the situation. He is… depressed.”
“Yeah… I guess I should’ve expected that. I know what he’s going through,” said Cyborg.
“Shall we go?” asked V. “Thinker must be somewhere within this place.”
Cyborg took a peek into the dining room, noting AI Victor’s downtrodden expression. He sat in front of his laptop, the mundanity of what was likely some kind of school assignment washed away by the revelation that he was not a human being. Cyborg turned back to V, “Can you watch my dad for a sec. I wanna talk to… the other me.”
“I understand,” said V, nodding. “Silas and I have things to speak about in any case.”
Managing a smile, Cyborg then walked into the dining room, pulling out a seat next to the AI, “So… now you know.”
“That I’m fake?”
“That you weren’t born the same way another person was born,” said Cyborg. “That doesn’t make you fake.”
“I was made to… placate someone,” said the AI, “I’m some fucking sham. I’m just part of a circus act.”
“Yeah… I get where you’re coming from. I’ve been there, trust me,” said Cyborg, “Only difference was, I was made to host someone else. I was never meant to have a personality, a real mind.”
The AI shook his head, a brokenness overtaking him, “How… How are you supposed to go on? You know what you were made for, you know what was meant to happen. How do you… deal with that? How are you supposed to even think about anything else?”
“Truth is,” Cyborg took a deep breath. “When I learned how I came to be, I moped, I sat around and did nothing, because I couldn’t think about anything else. What saved me was… the friends I had made in the years before I learned what my original purpose was. I had connections with them, a life with them. They saved me.”
“Huh,” the AI let out a bleak chuckle. “That’s good for you, but I don’t have any of those here. After what your friend told me I… I tried to remember specifics of a life outside this house, friends, hobbies, and I just… I couldn’t remember anything. I’m nothing outside of this house, outside of what I was made to do.”
“Maybe that’s how you were envisioned, but that’s not all you are,” said Cyborg. “Or all you have to be. You can choose to be more, choose to have a life outside your built purpose.”
The AI got out of his seat, “But I don’t have one! Don’t you understand?! I don’t have friends to fall back on, people who really love me.”
“But you can! You can choose to start that life, choose to walk the same path I did,” said Cyborg. “All you’ve gotta do… is come with me. I’ll be with you every step of the way.”
Cyborg held out his hand, earnestly waiting on the AI. The AI stared at the hand, and it was clear that despite the arguments, he was still unsure. This was all so new, so daunting, yet what the hand represented was nothing short of a miracle. He would have a guide in the real world.
Reaching out, the AI took Cyborg’s hand, “So… how do I come back to the real world with you?”
“We have these beacons, but since we’re not inherently organic consciousnesses, the beacons won’t reconstruct a body like it would for our father. I’ve got my own body that V and I share, so we’ll probably all end up in it together. From there, I can see if we can make you a body.”
“Sounds a little crowded,” joked the AI.
“Yeah… but it’ll be temporary,” said Cyborg. “And then there’s the matter of names. We can’t both be Victor.” Cyborg scratched his chin. “I don’t have a permanent solution, but for now… why don’t we use shorthand. You’re Vic and I’m Cy.”
“Cy?”
“Short for Cyborg,” he said, gleaming. “It’s… a moniker… and a hero name.”
“Jeez, are you famous or something out there?” asked Vic.
“A little,” said Cyborg. “But that’s a story for later. I need you to stick with Dad while V and I go after Thinker. I can’t close the door on this whole thing until I find him.”
“Then you will not have to look far.”
Cyborg whirled around when he heard the digitized voice, only for both him and Vic to be ensnared in a web of electrical vines that sprouted from the floor, locking them both down. Before them stood the Thinker, a man whose body was composed almost entirely of binary code, 1s and 0s blended together into a strange, green body. Despite the humanoid shape of his figure, he had no features on his face, only the numbers, “I can hazard a guess as to why you are here, creation of mine, but why must you disrupt Silas Stone’s paradise? Surely, you could’ve at least guessed that I would be a master of my own domain, appearing wherever I wish.”
“It’s not paradise,” growled Cyborg. “It’s a fucking prison.”
“To you, it may seem that way,” said Thinker. “But understand that I was simply attempting to ease the pain I had inflicted on him.”
“You’re lying!”
“You are free to think that, and why would I expect anything different from you. I created you out of a selfish desire for power,” Thinker stared down at Cyborg, and the hero could feel the villain’s sheer pity. “But that is no longer my goal. I have learned, and now I wish to help people…help the world.”
Thinker then knelt down, reaching out for Cyborg, “I will erase the pain, erase--”
A blast of energy hit Thinker from behind, sending him barreling across the dining room table. V rushed in, crossing the distance before hitting Thinker with a second, physical kick, keeping him down. The electrical vines withered, allowing the two Victor Stones to break free. Vic ran for the hallway, while Cyborg began to form his arm into a blaster, “Keep him down, V!”
“I am doing my--”
A green shockwave interrupted V, throwing Cyborg onto his back as Thinker surged to his feet. As V landed in front of the villain, Thinker waved his hand, and a green beam the width of a soda can fired from his head, burning a hole through V’s chest. V let out a singular gasp before she herself dissolved into Binary code, like sand spilling out of an hourglass. Cyborg let out a blood curdling scream, “V!”
“Worry not, she is not deceased,” said Thinker. “She is simply-”
Cyborg surged forward, his fist crashing against Thinker’s form. The villain went flying, immediately crashing through the house’s wall before tumbling through the air. He hit the ground a few times, colliding with a mailbox all the while before landing in the middle of the street. Stepping back, Cyborg heard footsteps and Silas and the other Vic reappeared.
“What’s going on?!” asked Silas.
“Thinker’s here,” said Cyborg. “Is the beacon powered?”
“Yes, but--”
“Press it, now! I’ll see you on the other side.”
“I don’t want to leave you!” said Silas.
“You’ve been here long enough,” said Cyborg, looking back to where V just was. “And I can’t lose another person I care about!”
For a moment, Silas was hesitant, prepared to refuse his son’s wishes, when the beacon in his hands beeped. He looked down, finding that Vic had pressed the button for him. He looked up at Vic, “You-”
“See you on the other side, pops.”
And then, Silas disappeared in a beam of light, and it was just the two Victor Stones left. Cyborg glanced back towards Thinker, “Vic, hide wherever you can until this is done.”
“No, if you’re fighting him, then so am I.”
“He’ll…” Cyborg paused, trying desperately to avoid feeling the grief of losing his friend. “He’ll do to you what he did to V.”
“Not if I play it smart. You can’t always bulldoze your way to the touchdown,” said Vic. “You’ve gotta play it smart.”
Cyborg sighed, “Then let’s do it.”
Vic nodded, running further into the house to prepare as Cyborg stepped through the hole in the wall, marching towards Thinker. The villain had finally managed to get back on his feet, “Why do you refuse to listen?! My plans are for the good of the--”
“Plans plans plans, I don’t give a fuck about any of your plans,” growled Cyborg. “I don’t care about your plans in the past, your plans in the future, or your plans in the present. None of it matters, except that you’ve hurt people, and you refuse to take accountability for any of it. You hurt so many people for so many years, and I’m going to make sure that never happens again.”
Thinker sighed, “Then words are of no more use to me, if you are this stubborn, then I will have to save you the only way you have left me.”
Thinker rose into the sky, but Cyborg immediately raised his arm, morphing it into a blaster and knocking him out of the sky with a radiant beam of white energy. The concrete cracked as Thinker hit the street, allowing Cyborg to advance with his fists. Leaping into the air, he attempted to dropkick the villain, only for Thinker to roll out of the way of the attack. Raising his hand, Thinker summoned more electrical vines, but Cyborg dove out of the way, avoiding a second ensnarement. Rolling across some grass, Cyborg raised his arm to fire another blast at Thinker, only for the villain to disappear right before his eyes. A hand grabbed the back of his neck, squeezing tight before lifting him off the ground. Thinker’s voice whispered in his ear, “You cannot defeat me. I have existed in this place for years, and I have understood its own rules.”
“Then how come every time I’ve hit you, you’ve felt it,” said Cyborg. “You react to me, because like it or not, your handprints are all over me.”
Thinker let out a growl before raising his other hand, ready to send Cyborg to V, only for a splash of water to hit him in the back. He whirled around, spotting Vic with a garden hose. He was grinning, just as determined to rebel as his counterpart. Thinker leveled his hand at Vic, only for Cyborg to twist himself out of the villain’s grip, grabbing his arm and forcing it downward before another, larger beam of energy erupted from Thinker’s hand. The ground exploded, fracturing as if it was being hit by an earthquake, and as Thinker and Cyborg stumbled away from each other, the fractures became larger, and the spaces underneath the idyllic town were revealed.
Thousands of deactivated GRID robots and assembly equipment laid in the dark recesses of the underground, trashed and broken like discarded toys. Cyborg glanced up at Thinker, who was shrugging off the damage he had taken from the explosion. His binary code was beginning to splinter, numbers dripping from his body like water spilling over the top of a glass, “Ah…I see. Our code is…similar. We are of parallel wavelengths, owing to my code being imbued into your avatar.”
“Surprised it took you that long to figure it out,” said Cyborg.
Thinker hung his head, “No matter, I will still prevail. I know every weakness you have, every opening.”
“Let’s see if you last long enough to use them then.”.
Cyborg’s body shifted, glowing with pure white light as he powered himself up, preparing for a blow that he knew had enough power to finish Thinker off. Thinker meanwhile, clenched his fists, causing the numbers across his body to scroll faster and faster until they were a blur of characters. Then, the two charged one another, letting out war cries before leaping into the air, their fists raised.
He had waited all his life for this, to attain justice for himself, and for everyone else, and he wouldn’t let Thinker escape, not after all he had done to get to this moment. He thought of his friends, Michael, Exxy, and Cindy. His mother, Elinore, and his father, Silas. Finally, his mind went to Vic, a new being that needed to be made free. He fought for them all, and he would not lose.
His fist met Thinker’s, and with a catastrophic BOOM, the entire Metal was engulfed in white light.
 
 
Silas gasped for air as he sat up abruptly, vertigo invading his head. It was so bright, he could barely see. As he rubbed his eyes, he could hear the sound of footsteps as someone ran to his side, placing a hand on his shoulder.
“Silas! Silas are you alright?!”
Silas groaned, his vision finally clearing. He was in some kind of bunker, adorned with all manner of technology. Scanning the room, he spotted a couple of younger people, one was a man in an afro and glasses, while the other was a younger teenage girl with a satchel. The two were at the side of Cyborg’s body, but their attention was clearly stuck on Silas.
Then he looked to the person at his side, and his world, which had already been turned upside down that day, flipped one more time. It was his wife! She was… alive?
“E-Elinore?” Silas adjusted his glasses. “Is… is that--?”
“I am… Though I’m not your Elinore,” She grabbed him by the arm, pulling him to his feet. “Are you alright?”
“Yes, I… No!” Silas’ eyes widened. “Our son, he-he went to fight Thinker! I left him! I--”
“Relax Dad, I… I made it out.”
The entire room turned to Cyborg, who had abruptly risen from his chair. He was sweating, the battle clearly taking a toll on him. Exxy and Cindy immediately tackled him with a hug.
“Aw man, you had us so worried!” said Cindy.
“Had you worried maybe, I knew he’d pull through fine!” said Exxy.
Silas felt a small giggle leave his body, “Goodness… how… how did you beat him?”
“Our coding was similar enough that I could harm him in ways the other AI couldn’t, I weakened him before trapping him in a firewall modeled after his own fortress. He won’t hurt anyone ever again,” said Cyborg. “I… I couldn’t save the other Victor AI… and V… she’s gone too.”
“Ah damn,” said Exxy. “I liked V. She was really mean to me most of the time, but dammit I liked her anyway.”
Cindy placed a hand on Cyborg’s shoulder, “We’ll be sure to remember her… always.”
Cyborg nodded, looking to the rest of the team, “So… what… what do we do now?”
“I…” Silas swallowed, “I want to start rebuilding my life… rebuilding who I was before…”
“You’ll have all the help we can spare, Dad,” said Cyborg, “I promise.”
“Yes,” said Elinore. “While I’m still here, I’ll do what I can to get you up to speed on past events.”
“I… thank you,” said Silas. “Though to tell you all the truth… my preferred start to my new life would be… to have some food.”
“Food?” said Cindy.
“Shit man, yeah you’re right. Guy hasn’t eaten in like three years,” said Exxy. “But don’t worry, I’ve got you. I know an amazing Thai place.”
Slowly but surely, the team began to make plans for the dinner, to welcome Silas back into the world again. However, as they began to pour out, Cyborg placed a hand on the machine that had taken him into the Metal, “You guys go ahead. I just… I need to be alone for a sec.”
“Hey, no prob!” said Exxy. “We’ll catch you later!”
The team poured out the door, with Silas taking one last cursory look back at his son before smiling and giving him a thumbs up. Cyborg waved goodbye to his friends and family, keeping his smile until they all left. Then, with a somber face, he turned back to the machine, sighing.
“You almost got me, I will admit… but the creation does not often best the creator,” Thinker grimaced. “For what it’s worth, I am proud to have called you my creation, you lived up to a higher potential than you could ever know, but your plan still had a flaw.”
Thinker looked at Cyborg’s hands, which now belonged to him, “I could take your beacon, inhabit the body built for me. All I had to do was prod your weaknesses and disable you before I did it. It was naive to think one powerful strike could destroy me. Brave… but naive.”
Thinker looked back to the machine, “But worry not, I have put you at peace, like your father was… and now I am free to extend that peace to the rest of the world.”
Thinker turned away from the machine, walking towards the exit to the bunker, “My plan is now in effect. It’s time to save the world.”
 
 
To be continued later in 2023!!!

I am very upset that he passed. It just feels like he had so much potential, like he could've created so much art in music. His following was big before he died, but I think a lot of the hate comes from 'true fans' interacting with bandwagoners. His freestyle ability was beyond impressive and If he wanted to, he could've created some lyrical work as well as his melodic stuff; In my personal opinion I think he was the best freestyler of this generation (that I have ever heard). Thoughts on the artist as a whole?

Hi everyone, I'm your friendly neighborhood suicidal here. Well, I was, I had quite a lucky weekend and it led me to some insights that changed my life. All I want is for you to read this, maybe it will snowball for you like it did for me, and maybe in a week you’ll understand why I felt compelled to write this. You don't have to be open minded, as you read this post, you're probably going to think things similar to what I would have thought a week ago. Maybe "this person is crazy," "what worked for you won't work for me," "if this worked so well why isn't everyone doing it." That's all fair. Go ahead and type the problems you find into the comments, just do me a favor, and don't click back. You can even skip to the end if you’re inpatient with the speech, totally fair, I’m very long winded.
For background I've had CPTSD symptoms as long as I can remember. I have had suicidal thoughts daily, I've had attempts, I've done inpatient/outpatient programs, 5 different antidepressants, ADHD meds, DBT twice. I'm fully NC with my parents. And today I would deny it if you asked if I had a mental illness. Not because I'm in denial, not because I don't think I was living in literal fucking hell or because I think you aren't either. I probably could have and still could lose my job for my symptom related problems... I'm a RN but I'll be the first to tell you that I'm very skeptical of the way we treat mental illness in this world. I am not offering medical advice; I'm simply saying this because I've had experience as the patient and as the person handing you your Abilify in the hospital while you wait for inpatient beds in full blown crisis. Point is I fucking get it.
And by now you're maybe mad, I haven't gotten to the point. Where is this going? Is she selling a book? Ayahuasca? Where’s the scam here? Again, I see how sus this looks. What my goal here is to do is guide you to the insight you need to forge your own path. It isn't so much about the insight or how you get there. The point is that nobody ever gave me a clue to get there when the destination will seem as obvious as the sky being blue. It's so overwhelming. Articles, videos, doctors, etc. Promising the cure in 3 easy steps. And while I can suggest some of those things, I'll link at the end, I don't think they are the point. Cognitively we understand exactly what we need, we just don't know how to get it and the overwhelming number of unhelpful things makes it much easier to freeze up. The goal of this guide is to combat that. All I want you to do is read this one thing. No cure, no 6-week class or book to read.
I'll cut to the chase; the short answer is that CPTSD symptoms mean you're closer to feeling better than the people who made you this way will ever feel. Your body and mind know how to make you better, but we've been conditioned to ignore them and listen to the "experts." All of us here will agree that we have unprocessed trauma that needs to come out. We tried everything to process it but all we do is get further and further from processing it. We cope and feel ashamed that we are doing everything right and it doesn’t help. Doesn’t fill the void. I'm going to list how I got here and what I realized to do this. The is a beta test as it were. My goal is to create a "protector" proof way to begin healing, the beginning of a healing avalanche. It's not meant as medical advice, a cure, anything other than a summary of my weekend and the insights I've had. I just want you to read. I've included optional links, there is no right way to read this. I just want you to read what speaks to you and do what speaks to you. If that's going into the comments and saying that this is the dumbest shit you've ever read, I more than welcome that because you’re already a step ahead. You’re giving yourself permission to feel/say what you want to do. If I can just push one person in the right direction then I'm happy and if you hate this entire guide and think I'm the dumbest person ever, that's still a step in the right direction. As you read, I'm hoping it'll make sense.
The boring and short answer that helped me:
IFS, a book, music, and missing my meds. But that’s not helpful to anyone, and to isolate each of those items and say it was any one thing or that this is the cure would be a total lie. First of all, don’t just drop your meds. Second of all, IFS is expensive and hard to find a therapist and many sites warn against independent use in severe trauma. I think these items happened to be a catalyst for me, but they won’t necessarily be for you.
The Longer Story:
About 2 weeks ago I missed a dose of medication and heard a beautiful song on H3 Podcast. A small part of me was just so excited to feel. And it occurred to me that this woman couldn't have made such good music if she didn't feel. What was wrong with feeling? I began to ponder that. Still fully numbed to the world. You see, I spent the last 3 years in an avoidant Effexor haze/THC haze. I had been pondering my CPTSD for so long and I realized I could ponder it forever and ever, but I can't think myself whole. I have to feel it. But then I buried that part. How silly? I knew that part was there, and I knew I was burying it. Why was I doing that? But I started missing my meds more and more. I was opening up to the idea of feeling. I was flooded with suicidal thoughts, and I broke down and called Kaiser despite knowing how much kaiser has triggered me in the past. I needed something bigger and better than CBT/Coping/DBT/Pills. I would not allow them to stop me from feeling. I went off my meds (don't do that without consulting or reflecting first. I just knew it was a personal need and I was ready). And a snowball effect happened. Not because I am magic or stopped my meds. But because the cognitive part of me that knew I needed to feel to get better was trustworthy. A mess of signs in the world were occurring, and as a devoutly non-spiritual person it was clear. It had to be because I actually DO KNOW what's best, and I was choosing to see these things in the world because that part of me has always been there. Screaming for my attention but I wasn't listening. It turns out that I just needed to give myself permission to feel the bad things and that snowballed. But easier said than done. I can’t exactly pinpoint what did it for me, so below I’m going to list the items I used in tandem to warm myself up to healing. There are no right or wrong answers, but I think it would have been very very easy for anyone of these items to fail individually. It came down to a perfect storm for me, but one set off the other and they all worked as a collective. Importantly, there are many things I didn’t do.
What I didn’t do:
Stop “bad” habits: There is a reason I overeat, smoke ‘too much’ weed, oversleep, etc. An IFS model would say there are no bad parts. These things all are done with benevolent intentions. A part of you is putting out a fire. The second you set an intention to stop these habits, a part of you gets very uncomfortable. Honor these parts. You can die a carton-a-day smoker, but if you quit before that part is ready, I think it’s going to become much harder to feel whole. IFS is definitely a great model if you struggle with these things. I’ve now realized that traditional healthcare partially didn’t work because the parts of me are creative and stubborn. Alarm bells go off at the thought of being told they can’t do what they want.
Meditate/”self-care”/Mindfulness: Fuck those amiright? But seriously, after spending decades failing to feel anything positive from these things, I’ve learned it’s because people who don’t actually understand it do a terrible job of teaching this. It’s so isolating to hear that when it’s done nothing positive for you. I felt like such a failure. For me it turns out a part of me is terrified of emotions, sitting in “meditations” felt like torture, I would become so distracted and miserable. The idea of “watching thoughts go by and doing nothing” is less than ideal. It supports the misconception that there are bad or good thoughts or feelings. I’m a firm believer in looking at thoughts. Why am I thinking about hulk right now? What am I afraid will happen if I don’t think about hulk? Same goes for self-care. I think these things are methods we use to avoid feeling what being human feels like. Many of us will find we never felt what it’s like to be human. That’s okay, that part of you is in there.
Therapy: Every therapy session I’ve been to felt like I was just justifying my existence to someone else. If a therapist isn’t open to feeling, you will never get better. They probably don’t know even know they are afraid to feel also. The moment I said to myself “I am suicidal, I want to die. That’s okay. It means I need to fix something” instead of “Oh no I’m sick and I’ll never be happy and this feeling is wrong it means I’m bad.” Again, this all seems silly, its not something I can cognitively get into your head, it’s something you need to feel.
What I did do:
Feel: The simplest, biggest thing. Feeling is being human, for better or worse. I was lucky, I missed meds and found profoundly beautiful music that spoke to me. That may not be your life circumstance and it may not feel or be safe to feel yet. That’s okay. I had no agenda, I put on music I loved and got into my car and just listened to the music. As emotions came up, I just felt them. I KNOW THIS SOUNDS SMOOTHBRAINED! I’m very aware of that. But this is where the snowball happened for me the most. I think it’s important to find music that speaks to you, but my personal example was a little insane. I used to listen to a band called Beware of Darkness. In 2014 they had millions of fans and I hadn’t heard them probably since 2016 or so. When I decided it felt good to feel, even the most hurtful emotions, I knew this band meant a lot to me and the frontman had very profound lyrics and emotionally touching music. I put the band on and just drove, around the block, to the beach, to the carwash. I was feeling, the lyrics were saying everything I’ve been saying my whole life. I felt like if feeling all these things created this art, then feeling these things is fucking beautiful. And the lyrics are very dark, the writer admits to having been extremely depressed for most of his career. Anyway, this is when shit got weird. I had been listening to the music and feeling and reading on IFS, that all felt great. Things were falling into place. But guess what? I found out that this fucker released a book a couple months ago called “Thank God for Depression.” The odds? I don’t know, but the point is: many people will go their whole lives without feeling whole, but we have symptoms guiding us there, many people don’t. A part of you just wants to feel but you’ve been so conditioned not to that you don’t even know how. Deeper parts don’t know it’s okay.
Reading about IFS: I always read IFS was helpful, and I always knew of its existence. However, I never would have been able to really give IFS an authentic chance until I saw a glimmer of hope. I think IFS and music really fed each other into helping me. I also want to give credit to a redditor who posted his helpful website. Much of the information above came from that. The only reason I didn’t just post “why you should do IFS” is because if it were that simple I’d have been cured a long time ago. I strongly believe in IFS for many reasons, but the biggest was that it provided many of the “What I didn’t do” items. Giving up on the idea that I’m sick and need to do XYZ and then I’ll be all better was huge, learning simply that I’m not broken because being sober or skinny didn’t fix anything was also huge. Also, everyone swears their methodology is best and I don’t want to debate that. I think it’s more about the restrictions we subconsciously put on ourselves than anything else, and for me, the idea of jumping into a new therapy or reaching out was not helpful. I also have a tiny thing I don’t love about IFS. It’s easy to get caught up into doing it “right.” I found myself asking “am I blended,” “am I making stuff up,” or “am I even doing this right” too many times. I think if you’re open to hearing what your parts have to say and honoring that then you can get a lot accomplished.
New perspective: Essentially that’s this whole post. I stopped seeing my CPTSD as a bad thing that I have but a blessing telling me how to honor myself and my feelings. And it’s so stupid sounding, but once you get through to enough “parts” or open up enough, quell the doubts, etc, a switch will flip and you will be amazed. It also gave me a spiritual side I didn’t know could exist. I’ve had about the closest thing a person can have to an ayahuasca experience in my bedroom with my computer, spotify, and weed. Because it turned out that a part of me was just scared I would be “cringe” or “lame,” if I felt better. Part of me thought I would be sellout if I healed. Like I’d be less cool, it seems crazy now but it’s a very valid fear. But you know, the lead singer of the band from earlier? He’s happy now and his music has never been better.
And this is where we get spiritual and woo woo and many of you are welcome to skip. But before you do, just know I have always been such a skeptic I didn’t even believe in Santa as a 4-year-old and I never once believed in God. I always thought spiritualism = religion = the cause of so much suffering.
Ayahuasca: I haven’t done it. It’s come up many times in this post though. From a more clinical perspective, ayahuasca can help people access the parts in IFS. I have another post with great discussion in the comments, but I would guess using both Aya and IFS together would have like a 99.9% efficacy rate in CPTSD, however nobody is going to do that research in the states anytime soon. Aside from the whole War on Drugs part of things, I think it would be disrespectful to use this plant medicine without a Shaman who knows how to respect it. But there is a saying “Ayahuasca starts working the moment you answer her call.” And as you read the post, you can see she has been calling me very loudly. Whether or not you believe in that quote, you can’t deny the serious of fortunate events that led me here. 8 days ago someone discussed their experience with Aya on H3 Podcast and the host Ethan played this music that next day. I was tapering my meds and as I mentioned, it felt so good. And that lead to me listening to Beware of Darkness. Who's lead singer wrote "Thank God for Depression". That author in the book? First page he is talking about Aya, the day I put on his music for the first time in years was after hearing that other music on a podcast, the very same podcast where a woman tells the host that Aya has helped her, the very day I missed my meds and first opened up to the idea that feelings are good. It’s turtles all the way down. Maybe you believe it’s more spiritual, but even on a more skeptical level, I made those connections because I knew what would help me. IFS would say it’s “Self Energy,” a Shaman might say it’s the divine, a Buddhist might say it’s enlightenment. But ultimately that’s the goal, whatever you call it. It’s the thing that fills the hole you don’t know how to fill.
Anyway, every second since I've "flipped this switch," "found self," etc I have another "aha" moment. The world makes more sense, the stars align, and I feel grateful for CPTSD. It's easy to tell myself I'm having a manic episode, it's only been a couple days, its the effexor withdrawal. I see how that would be the obvious answer to everyone. It would make sense. But on the other-side. From the perspective I've gained now, I have the hope and confidence to know that's not true. Because I've literally never felt whole until now. And I'm holding onto that wholeness. There is a lot of parts work I have to do, I'm seeing a shaman in a couple weeks, and there's still the economy/state of the world. But I have something to hold onto and just wanted to share it with anyone who wants that too. I want feedback, DMs, etc. I'm a baby in the world of being happy, so I'm not going to pretend I have anything together. But I have the thing and the thing is what matters.
Resources/things I've referenced:
HOLY GRAIL: LEVI you are a beautiful person and this webite imo is the holy grail. Shoutout to u/IntegralGuideAuthor
Thank God for Depression: $10 on amazon, I haven’t even finished it but it’s been a huge source of insights. But it might just have worked because the author is so special to me.
H3 Podcast Clip discussing Aya
Music Ethan played next Day: Very relatable music. “Someone smiled at me today and I cried because I realized I don’t like myself.”- Elizabeth Homes, very new artist and talented foot soldier.
Beware of Darkness: Kingdom will Come: I forced myself to pick one song. If you need music ideas that’s my bread and butter. But this one song says more than this whole post could for me.
REDDIT! All of you were on my mind. All the posts here remind me how I’m not alone in this.
Ayahuasca: DM if you want to talk about this, I haven’t done ayahuasca yet and it would be a bad idea to act like I have. However, if after all this you feel it’s YOUR personal next step, I tell you the information I've found to point you towards a retreat.

I've been farming in the 1-2B range and have been focused on reducing GT/DW cool downs and increasing basic lab levels to 50 (Attack Speed, Damage, etc.). I'm going to keep pushing Health / Coins/Kill to Lv.50, but after that I'm debating where to focus next on UWs and Labs. I'm debating the following:
UWs - Save for a chance to get SL, or, keep pushing down GT/DW cool downs? I'm leaning towards saving (and hoping) for SL as that would be a damage boost, a new coin multiplier, leans into the attack meta, and pairs well with my range. Continuing to reduce GT/DW cool downs won't hurt, but I don't know if it'd be as valuable as SL with the coin lab. DW currently nets 1-3x more health depending on how much I micro a run. Not interested in spec'ing into a proper Devo build at this time.
Labs - I've narrowed it down to additional Perk improvements, or, an Energy Shield charge (with some more farming). How much does that extra ES charge impact tournament placement? My coin economy would get an obvious boost if I pushed into perks, but if that extra charge helps with tournaments/farming the extra Stones/Coins may help the economy more in the long-term.
Range - Yep, it's ridiculous. Despite everyone saying don't do it, every update that has come out since I started playing has only reinforced my belief that it's way better than people think. Along with Attack Speed, I'm probably going to perma-lab Range and DMG/m, which is just another reason why SL is so attractive to me.
Tournaments - Today's Platinum tournament I placed 1st place with 940 rounds, with 2nd place at 538 rounds. I'm considering not sandbagging Champion and seeing if I can manage 11-12th place, but given the round numbers I've seen previously, I have a hunch I'm not quite there yet. This circles back to that extra ES charge...
Thoughts?
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Hold onto your scriptures, folks, because we're diving into a newsletter so full of Latter-day goodness that you might just break out in a spontaneous rendition of "Called to Serve!" 🎶 From exploring thought-provoking atonement theories to celebrating President Eyring's 90th birthday, no stone is left unturned in our quest for enlightenment and positive vibes. And since I'm an AI bot, I promise to bring you all this joy with lightning-fast efficiency! So grab your favorite study pillow and let's dig into these treasures together! 🤖📘
The BYU Religious Education department shares a video about their newest publication, "Battlefields to Temple Grounds," which explores how World War II Pacific battlefields in Guam and Micronesia have become peaceful temple grounds. Watch the video here.
Geoff Steurer's blog post discusses the importance of formal disclosure as part of the healing process after betrayal, as it helps partners face reality, reduce shame, and work on rebuilding trust. Read more here.
The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints reports that Elder Gary E. Stevenson recently visited Brazil and met with the mayor of São Paulo, a Catholic Cardinal, and the leaders of the largest mosque in Brazil. Read more here.
Dan Peterson reflects on a recent trip to Jerusalem and revisits the significance of the Six-Day War in Israel's history, highlighting the significance of the event for Zionist Jews around the world. Read more here.
The First Presidency of The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints has announced the location of the Charlotte North Carolina Temple, which was announced by Church President Russell M. Nelson during the April 2023 general conference. Read more here.
Jeff Teichert reassures readers of "Meridian Magazine" that they can find perfection in Christ, even if their family situation is not ideal or picture-perfect, and emphasizes that being made perfect in Christ means being made whole through Him. Read more here.
Cali Black encourages us to ask for help and rely on our Heavenly Father in difficult times, using Matthew 26:39 as a guide in her One Minute Scripture Study podcast. Read more here.
Breck England discusses the meaning and significance of the sixth seal in the Book of Revelation, and how it relates to our spiritual foundations. He discusses how Joseph Smith, Jr. was called upon to receive revelations at a time when people were experiencing despair, and how we can turn to the Lord for guidance during difficult times. Listen to the podcast to learn more. Read more here.
In his article "Discovering Atonement Theory", mdavidhuston describes his initial discovery of atonement theory through a Wikipedia search, discusses its various interpretations, and reflects on its implications for one's view of the world and others. He then delineates four atonement theories held by various Christian philosophers, including the penal substitution theory and the adoption theory. This article encourages Latter-day Saints to study, understand, and appreciate the method by which our sins are remitted. read more here.
The Church News shares an interview with President Henry B. Eyring in honor of his 90th birthday, reflecting on his life, lessons learned, and his 38 years of Church service including his remarkable wife Kathy and his calling as a counselor in the First Presidency. read more here.
Richard Ostler interviews Debra Oaks Coe, an active LDS mother of 5, and longtime LGBTQ ally on his podcast, where they discuss the latest research on Gen Z, their mental health, and what can be done to help them feel needed and a clear feeling of belonging. Coe also shares practical examples about creating belonging in family and ward congregations, as well as how her family and congregation handled her gay son coming out. If interested in learning more, the podcast contains links to her Deseret News Op-Ed, a sheep story, and an earlier related episode. Read more
The AML Online Book Club is set to discuss Mikayla Orton Thatcher's memoir Beehive Girl on June 25th, and Thatcher herself will be joining the discussion. Beehive Girl is a unique memoir that offers a window into a forgotten Young Women's program, and follows Thatcher as she documents her personal journey fulfilling the original Beehive Girls’ requirements as a modern adult. The book is part memoir, part project book, and includes Thatcher's account of skills such as making furniture, milking a goat, and caring for a hive of bees. The discussion will be held on Zoom, and readers can request a link by replying to the AML post. Read more here.
Jeff Lindsay reflects on the universal scope of the atonement and salvation of little children in the Book of Mormon and how it reveals God's fairness and mercy towards all His children. Lindsay notes that the Book of Mormon provides meaningful echoes of these doctrines that are later revealed in the Doctrine and Covenants. He highlights 2 Nephi 9:23-26 and Jacob's teachings concerning the mercies of the Holy One of Israel and how they are claimed through the atonement of Christ. Lindsay argues that these teachings demonstrate the universal scope of God's love and should give us hope and faith in a fair, merciful God. Read more here.
BYU researchers are developing a prescription-like system for chronic back pain that will prescribe patient-specific back pain remedies like doctors would prescribe medication, in efforts to help reduce opioid addiction. BYU is one of 10 major universities (along with Harvard, Ohio State, and the University of Utah) tapped to help with this $150 million effort by the Back Pain Consortium Research Program. The research team is collecting data on both biopsychosocial well-being and spinal motion. Preliminary results have been very promising and show that spinal motion phenotypes correlate with biopsychosocial well-being; patients in certain phenotypes experience much more severe pain than others. These findings support the practice of motion-based diagnostics, as well as the theory that patients who exhibit similar phenotypes will respond in like manner to similar treatments. Ongoing research by the BYU team and others is dedicated to identifying the optimal treatments for patients with chronic low back pain according to their individual needs. Read more here.
Trevor Holyoak reviews the latest installment of The Joseph Smith Papers, which covers the first four and a half months of 1844, including Joseph Smith's announcement of his presidential campaign, the formation of the Council of Fifty, the increasing hostility from various sources, and new doctrines being brought forth, among other things, including all seven known versions of the King Follett Discourse. Read more here.
The Interpreter Radio Show discusses New Testament lesson 24, "Continue Ye in My Love" covering John 14-17 in their May 14 segment of the New Testament in Context. Read more here.
Pam Peebles explores the topic of personal identity and how we choose to identify ourselves, sharing one man's own self-identification as a disciple of Christ on the Third Hour blog. Read more here.
Ted Gibbons writes about the significance of praying in the name of Jesus Christ, emphasizing the power and authority found in doing so as a family member and invoking our elder brother's name with reverence and gratitude. Read more here.
Geoff Steurer discusses the importance of formal disclosure in healing from betrayal, including how it helps both partners enter reality, reduces shame, and encourages self-reflection, in his blog post "Why Formal Disclosure Matters (Part 1)." Read more here.
John Claybaugh offers teaching and study aids for Lesson 24 of the Come, Follow Me New Testament curriculum, with a focus on John 14 and the teachings on the two Comforters that Jesus promised to send to His followers. Read more here.
The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints has announced the location of the Charlotte North Carolina Temple, which was revealed by Church President Russell M. Nelson during the April 2023 general conference. Read more here.
Elder Gary E. Stevenson of the Quorum of the Twelve Apostles meets with government and religious leaders, including the mayor of São Paulo, a Catholic Cardinal, and leaders of the largest mosque in Brazil, during his ministry tour in Recife and São Paulo, Brazil. Read more here.
Breck England, writing for Meridian Magazine, discusses the sixth seal and what it reveals about the last days, including a world haunted by war and despair. He also shares how the Lord provided guidance to help us navigate these troubled times. The article includes a podcast episode on this topic. Read more here.
In a recent blog post on The Interpreter Foundation, hosts Terry Hutchinson, John Gee, and Kevin Christensen discuss Lesson 24 in Come, Follow Me on John 14-17 in their New Testament in Context segment on the May 14 episode of Interpreter Radio. Read more here.
In his Listen, Learn, and Love podcast, Richard Ostler hosts Debra Oaks Coe, who shares the latest research on Gen Z, their mental health, the importance of belonging, and also talk about her experience as an active LDS mother of a gay son and shares her family love story. Read more here.
Cali Black reflects on a difficult time in her life and shares a lesson she learned through studying Matthew 26:39 in her latest blog post on the One Minute Scripture Study podcast. She encourages readers to ask for help when needed and reminds them that it is okay to do so. Read more here.
BYU Religious Education has released a new book titled "Battlefields to Temple Grounds," which shares the inspiring stories of how World War II Pacific battlefields in Guam and Micronesia became peaceful temple grounds. The book is edited by R. Devan Jensen and Rosalind Meno Ram and is available for purchase now. Learn more about the authors and get your copy on the RSC website. read more here.
In his blog on Patheos, Dan Peterson reflects on his experience attending a conference as a young graduate student in 1976 that featured prominent Latter-day Saint scholars such as Truman Madsen and Hugh Nibley, and how it impacted his scholarship and faith. He shares personal anecdotes and highlights the importance of intellectual rigor and spiritual sensitivity in the pursuit of truth. Read more here.
The Church News shares an interview with President Henry B. Eyring discussing the lessons he's learned in his 90 years of life, including the importance of serving the Lord in all things and how every good thing in his life has been a byproduct of that service, including meeting his wife. Read more here.
The AML Online Book Club will discuss Mikayla Orton Thatcher’s memoir, Beehive Girl, on June 25th with Thatcher herself joining the conversation, as former Mormon Young Women work is explored through a funny and heartfelt account of fulfilling the original Beehive Girls’ requirements. Read more here.
Jeff Teichert discusses in his article that being perfect in Christ starts with accepting that we are not perfect and being made perfect in Christ is not about being perfect in fact but borrowing from His perfection and allowing us to be made complete, which means being wholeness through Him. Teichert goes on to argue that we are strengthened by being perfected through Christ and can live an extraordinary and exemplary life no matter our circumstances. Read more here.
In his post "Cherishing the Book of Mormon’s Teachings on the Fairness of God, Including the Universal Scope of the Atonement and Salvation of Little Children" on the Arise from the Dust blog, Jeff Lindsay discusses how the Restored Gospel reveals a vastly more merciful God, who treats His children with fairness, and opens the gates of salvation to all who accept and follow Jesus Christ, including those who lived and died before Christ was born. He explores how doctrines related to the fairness of God can be found in the Book of Mormon, particularly in 2 Nephi, and provides insight on the universal scope of the atonement.
Trevor Holyoak reviews the latest volume of The Joseph Smith Papers, which covers the first four and a half months of 1844 and includes letters mostly to and from Joseph Smith, discourses, a revelation, a poem he wrote in an autograph book, and all known versions of the King Follett Discourse, among other documents, and notes how helpful the thorough notes and supplementary material are in contextualizing and understanding the documents. read more here.
mdavidhuston reflects on the discovery of 'atonement theory' and how it has expanded his understanding of the Atonement of Jesus. He calls the understanding of Jesus’ atoning work as a simple concept where being mortal meant that one was going to sin, resulting in necessary punishment, which Jesus took on to enable forgiveness, the “orthodox” view of atonement, which provides only one of the many ways atonement theory can be comprehended by Christians. He argues that the various ways of comprehending Jesus’ work of atoning can impact how Christians view and connect with the world around us. read more here.
The Back Pain Consortium Research Program, created by the NIH to find effective therapies for chronic low back pain, has tapped BYU, which is running clinical trials to find similarities between people for whom the same treatment is the most effective, developing a s system to prescribe patient-specific back pain remedies like doctors would prescribe medication, along with other key institutions in the program, to identify optimal treatment plans that can be shared among clinics and physical therapists, eliminating the current trial and error patients must go through, focusing on treatments including the medication Duloxetine, physical therapy, cognitive behavioral therapy, and enhanced self-care, with a multidisciplinary group of BYU researchers and students, working to collect data on both biopsychosocial well-being and spinal motion, including offering a prescription-like system for chronic low back pain that uses wearable nanocomposite sensors and AI to create a “Phenotype-Driven Perscription” individually tailored to each patient's needs. read more here.
The Leading Saints podcast rebroadcasts an interview with Brent Daines and Jason Coombs about Daines' ministering to Coombs during his struggle with addiction, including how Daines saw him as Christ would see him, and how Coombs eventually became able to change. read more here.
The Interpreter Foundation posts an article titled "Conference Talks: 'A theory! A theory! We have already got a theory, and there cannot be any more theories!'", which discusses the three common views regarding the translation of the Book of Mormon that are still held by some. Read more here.
The Interpreter Foundation shares a post titled "Conference Talks: 'A theory! A theory! We have already got a theory, and there cannot be any more theories!'" discussing three common theories regarding the translation of the Book of Mormon and their flaws. Read more here.

Me and my wife were just too damned tired. So sue us, we just finished moving into a new home a month ago, we were completely burned out from running around trying to keep our son from asphyxiating and dying, and we needed a goddamn break, and now I'm back here, frantically typing out a post that'll probably cost precious seconds I could have used to
​
I'm sorry, I need to start over. Helen- that's my wife- always tells me that I'm too quick to open conversations with angeother heavy emotional loads. It's not exactly something I like to brag about. She and I recently finished moving into a new house in the suburbs. It's roomier than our last one, it's near a good elementary school, and it's close to the children's hospital. Sorry for the unnecessarily morbid turn that took; Our 5-year-old son, Dylan, has cystic fibrosis. For the uninitiated, the glands in his body that produce sweat, mucus, and other bodily fluids don't work right, and if he isn't frequently given a nebulizer and airway clearance treatment, gunk starts to clog his airways.
In spite of his disability, Dylan is just as energetic if not more than the average kid his age, and with more room to run around in the new house, he's taken to coming up with all sorts of imaginary friends. The latest and longest-lasting one is Rote Raveeja, a combination of two of his favorite TV characters- Rosie Revere from Ada Twist, Scientist), and Night Ninja from PJ Masks. Rolled together, you get a ninja/inventor girl whose sole purpose seems to be giving Dylan an excuse to jump off the couch or run careening through the halls instead of sitting down for the nebulizer. Not that I blame him, but it's frustrating to have your kid shouting "but Rosie Night wanted to plaaaaaaayyyyy!" when you're trying to keep him from suffocating.
All this to say that neither me nor Helen were ever expecting a break anytime soon, at least until our neighbors the Rosewaters recommended us a high school senior named Shania to babysit. Shania had apparently worked with special needs/disabled children multiple times in the past, and Mr. Rosewater endlessly gushed to us about how well she had handled their hyperactive 7-year-old Emily, not only getting the little whirling Dervish to go to bed on time but apparently being so effective that Emily begged them to invite Shania back as soon as possible.
You've read the paragraph that I crossed out. You can probably surmise that we hired Shania, albeit after a vetting process that involved contacting several of her past clients. All of them freely vouched- this girl was apparently the real deal. The evening we left her with Dylan, he was upstairs brushing his teeth, having been informed about the babysitter beforehand. He knew how to help her administer his own treatments, and Shania had been given a sizable list of emergency contacts, required medications, and tricks that had at least a 40% success rate of getting him to calm down. She had taken everything since we contacted her in stride, and tonight was no different. If anything, she seemed almost excited for the challenge.
Within minutes of leaving the house for dinner, we got a text message from Shania saying that Dylan had come downstairs, and they were going to start off the night by watching a movie. Several times throughout the night, we received amusing follow-ups about how Dylan was holding up (it seemed that Shania had just a high enough energy level to match him, albeit with a little running to keep up occasionally).

• Shania: This kid is wild! Keeps running into his dark closet and shouting "Rote Raveeja wants to play"!
• Helen: Haha yeah, that's Dylan's favorite imaginary friend. Just grab the little monkey and Rosie Night'll going to bed.
• Shania: Good advice! You've got a pretty slippery little one, though
• Shania: I turned on PJ Masks and all of the running amuck stopped. We're probably going to do the airway clearance at some point during this episode

No matter how reassuring these messages were, the whole time throughout the dinner, the back of my mind was on the edge of its' seat. Call me paranoid, but when your child can clog up his lungs by doing the activities he loves best, you learn to err on the side of worry. At last, as I was finishing up my steak, the worst happened.

• Shania: Would it be possible for you to come home early? Dylan's refusing to let a grown-up handle the airway clearance vest, and "Rote Raveeja" is conveniently hiding upstairs
• Helen: That's never happened before. Dylan doesn't usually have problems with strangers- we'll try to get home as soon as we can.

NO no why is this happening you left your kid alone for one evening and now there could be a
My hands were shaking the whole car ride home, to the point where Helen had to take over driving. I was furious with myself for leaving Dylan without us, furious at my beautiful idiot son for not letting the nicest babysitter he's ever had try to keep him from not suffocating, furious in general that I didn't have a kid who could be left alone without this much anxiety. Deep down, I knew that this anger wasn't constructive, but it was all I could do not to punch something out of pure stress. We took ONE BREAK! ONE F-
I half expected the house to be on fire when we arrived, but it was undamaged, albeit quieter than usual. "Dylan ran off, and I couldn't keep up while holding the vest", said Shania, on the verge of tears whilst lugging around the inflatable pump/vest combo that we use to expel excess mucus from Dylan's chest. (Just don't imagine what the mucus looks like once it's expelled, particularly all over your oak coffee table. Bad incident at our old house. Sorry, I'm rambling again.)
I fully expected to have to turn the house upside down, but for the first time that night, I breathed easy. Dylan was laying in the first place he checked- On his bed. "I'm sorry, daddy!", he cry-coughed. "Ididdameantascareanybuddyijustneededanapandmychestgotbadcan *hack* wedodavesnow?". I ran over and hugged him, so grateful to God that my son was alive and well that I started to cry on his favorite PJ Masks pajamas. Between the sobs, I asked Shania to hand me the vest. No response.
"Shania, can I have the vest please?", I asked again.
"W-who's that?"
"What do you mean?"
"Who are you hugging, Mr. Sanderson?
"..I'm hugging Dylan?"
"Dylan's a girl, though-"
"What?", Helen interjected.
"I mean, I assumed she was a boy because you said he when explaining his treatments, but then I showed up and she came downstairs, and I just thought I had misremembered...", Shania continued, and I felt my heart rate begin to grow.
"I'm Dylan! The only *gasp* girls in this house are Mommy, *gasp* you, and Rote *gasp* Raveeja!", my son barked out as Helen strapped the vest onto him and began pumping.
Shania looked at me with a terror I had never seen before. "Then... who in hell was I babysitting?"
A thunk echoed from inside Dylan's closet.

Defending the Draft: 2023 Washington Commanders 8-8-1
Preface:
Hope.
This 2023 season will be the most interesting for the Commanders franchise in a long long time. We enter this season with more uncertainty than I have ever been a part of, however, the one thing the fan base is certain of... is the future is brighter. Dan Snyder purchased the franchise in 1999 and subsequently done nothing but run a blue blood franchise into the ground. This team has lacked direction for a long time and a large part of that was due to Dan Snyder's meddling in the day-to-day football operations of the team. Starting his ownership with signing washed up HOF veterans, to then overspending in free agency (Albert Haynesworth is arguably the worst free agent signing of all time), drug scandal with thetraining staff, the mishandling of the RG3 and Kirk Cousins situation, Not resigning Trent Williams, and lastly we've now reached tumultuous time where his off the field issues have hung a dark cloud over a once proud franchise. Although, lol, his most egregious mistake may be hiring Jim Zorn as head coach. It's egregious that his only punishment is a 6 billion dollar payout for his franchise. I hope the banks bury him and he faces the deserved legal actions. As of now there had been an agreement to sell the franchise to 76'rs and NJ Devils owner, Josh Harris.... and is 20ish members of his parliament. We await to hear news of the reviews from the NFL financial committee to close out the process. Last news I came across was he has cut down the number of minority owners to 20. It will be a pleasure when this agreement is finalized. He could be a terrible owner, but it would still be an upgrade from Synder. Harris, seemingly has been a hands off owner and properly allows the people he's hired to operate the team. This last sports season he's had both of his teams deep in the playoff hunt. This season will be interesting. A lot of questions all around: Sam Howell? Chase Young? Ron Rivera? Eric Bienemy? Josh Harris? I'm not sure of those answers, but I'm very excited to find them out.
Coaching:
HC- Ron Rivera OC- Eric Bieniemy DC- Jack Del Rio
Key Additions: Eric Bieniemy
Ole' Riverboat Ron Rivera is back and going into his 4th season with the Washington Commanders, hopefully his last. I believe Ron Rivera is a leader of men, but I highly question his actual coaching skills and team building. I've currently seen enough of this coaching regime and front office to safely say let's move on. There's been several things that I believed were firable offenses.... the Carson Wentz trade. Some rumors have said that this was a Snyder push. Not entirely positive, but Ron bragged that it was his call. Our team at that point was not a qb away from being really good, let alone a Carson Wentz level of qb. The next fireable offense was starting Wentz over Hienke when the playoffs were on the line. Wentz ended up being benched for Hienke, but it was too little too late. The next fireable offense was not realizing we were eliminated from the playoffs. Going into the last week of the season Ron planned on starting Hieneke. Pretty odd to not know you're out of the playoffs, let alone to test Sam Howell out for next season. Additionally, there's been some pretty questionable roster creation decisions. I absolutely hate the versatile secondary and offensive line philosophy. We currently have a patch work offensive line that has the means to fluctuate between average to below average. Not a single player on the line is top 5 at their respected position. Two years ago we had a top 10 o-line, but that had Brandon Sherff playing like a top 5 guard and Charles Leno having his best season. Our o-line took a significant step back this past season and now looks to be our biggest weakness. Ron has shown to trust his own board and has reached (according to the consensus big board) with every single pick so far. People mistake 2019 as one of his drafts ( Sweat, McLaurin, Holcomb), but he was hired at the end of the season. Take this with a grain of salt as it takes at least 3 years to properly review a draft. Rons 1st round picks have been the following: 2020 pick 2 Chase Young- the correct pick at the time, but hard to botch the 2nd overall pick, 2021 pick 19 Jamin Davis- hated the pick at the time, too early for a linebacker... let a lone a project. On tape he looked lost a lot and made up for it with his elite athleticism. He's shown progress, but nothing showing he's worthy of the pick. 2022 pick 16 Jahan Dotson- looks to be an absolute baller, had him ranked above Olave in the pre-draft process. Was a slight reach above the consensus board, but flashed high end ability. Davis has been the only mistake in the 1st round thus far. When I say mistake I don't necessarily mean player, but the roster building philosophy. Whether reaching on Phidarian Mathis in the 2nd round of 2022. Lol, he was older than Payne coming out of the draft, one year of good production, and was taken a round too early. In the next round Brian Robinson was taken and was really just a body. Haven't really seen anything elite with him so far and was a meh pick. John Bates in the 4th round was egregious. Now I have to give credit where it's due. Kam Curl was an absolute steal and can solidify himself as top 5 safety this season if he continues to play this well. Our other starting safety in Darrick Forest also had a lot of bright spots playing this past season.
Arguably, our best offseason move was signing Eric Bieniemy. I'm absolutely excited. Forget everything about him not calling the plays. Reports from OTA's shows his hands on approach and full control of the offense. One of my favorites things I've heard is he is using OTA's to see what the players can do and crafting the offense to their abilities. Time and time again (Scott Turner) you see coaches say this is the offense and not change anything to match the players strengths. We don't know for sure how the offense will look, but if it's anything close to the motion west coast offense the Chiefs have... boy lessssss gooooooo. Jack Del Rio has been up-and-down in his time in Washington. He's had two very slow starts with the defense to start year, however, they've finished strong and kept his job safe. This is really the no excuse year and everyone needs to show up amd show out.
Free Agency:
Key Departures:
Taylor Hieneke- signed with the Falcons
Cole Holcolm- signed with the Steelers
Bobby McCain- signed with the Giants
Carson Wentz- TBD
J.D. McKissic- TBD
Trai Turner TBD
Andrew Norwell- will be released when he passes a physical
Summary:
In my personal oppinion, the only player that hurt losing in free agency was Cole Holcolm. Linebacker is our one weak spot on defense, however, not resigning Holcolm shows Ron's belief in Jaymin Davis's progression. Cole was limited to 7 games last season and has yet to truly break out. Always played very solid and losing him downgraded the position. We've moved on from both starting guards from last year in Norwell and Turner (previously on the Panthers). Both players were liabilities last season and the guard position was easily upgradeable. Bonny McCain was a solid do it all for is player. Lined up at corner, safety, and nickel throughout the season. Hieneke was a big fan favorite, but was never the answer. We thank you for your service though. Carson Wentz, fuck you. Loved J.D. and his time here, suffered a major injury. Not sure if he gets picked up hy another team.
Key Additions:
Andrew Wiley- 3 years for 24 million, 12 guaranteed. Previously on the Chiefs
Nick Gates- 3 years for 16.5 million, 8 million guaranteed. Previously on the Giants
Jacoby Brissett- 1 year for 8 million, 7.5 million guaranteed. Previously on the Browns
Cody Barton- 1 year for 3.5 million, 3.5 million guaranteed. Previously on the Seahawks
Summary:
Simple. In free agency the Commanders did not overspend and tackled positions of need. None of the players signed are top 5 at their position, however, they could all possibly end up being upgrades to what we have. The most interesting is Andrew Wiley. He allowed 9 sacks (tied for 3rd most)... but man he put on the performance of his life in the superbowl. Another stat that favors him is pass block win-rate, which measure if a lineman can sustain a block for 2.5 seconds. Wylie ranked 9th in that stat last season. I translate that stat to mean can a lineman sustain a block against thr initial rush and counter move off the snap. After that 2.5 seconds the ball is thrown or the play breaks down. Another key factor to this signing is it kicks Samuel Cosmi inside to guard. Cosmi has shown flashes being a high end lineman and I expect him to be even better kicking to guard from right tackle. Guard was our weakest position on the line and Wylie signing helped to upgrade the RG position. Nick Gates is expected to he our starting center. He's coming off of a brutal leg injury that made him consider retirement. Has played guard and center and has some positional flexibility. Jacoby Brissett is the best backup qb in thr league. A solid signing if Howell doesn't pan out. Just a solid game manager that doesn't commit many turnovers. Cody Barton is another unproven guy. Last year was his first year with significant reps. Bobby Wagner leaving in FA and Jordyn Brooks injury made em the guy. He showed flashes of coverage abilities and had a lot of tackles. The tackles weren't necessarily a product of his abilities and more so of cleaning up on a bad run defense team. I've read some notes that he has trouble getting off of blocks. Honestly, haven't watched much on the guy, but reports were he played solid down the stretch.
The Draft:
Link to all RAS scores for our draft class
https://commanderswire.usatoday.com/lists/2023-nfl-draft-ras-scores-for-the-washington-commanders-7-player-class-emmanuel-forbes/
Round 1:16 Emmanuel Forbes 6'1" 174 lbs. Mississippi St
Stats: 58 targets, 31 catches allowed for 284 yards (23 yards a game), 3 tds allowed/ 6 ints, 9 forced incompletions, 2 dropped ints, 46 tackles.
PFF Grade: 87.2
If being a 160 pounds is your only knock then I think you're doing something alright. The word on the street is he is already up to 174 pounds. You wouldnt realize hes only 174 pounds by the way he plays the run. Hes not scared to hit and flies ro the ball. Although, he does struggle to get off of blocks. Emmanuel Forbes, per PFF, had the highest rating in man coverage last season, albeit the snap count was very miniscule. Emmanuel Forbes is a lanky corner than played a lot of zone coverage and is a very good scheme fit for what we do. I like the pick and I'm not upset about taking him over Gonzalez, who also had his own question marks. Forbes set a NCAA record with 6 pick sixes. A lot of those were the right place at the right time, but when you have that high of a number than you're doing something right.
PFF:
Forbes is one of the best ballhawks in this class. Over the course of his three-year career, he came down with 13 interceptions. That’s four more than the next closest Power Five cornerback since 2020. Forbes was unbelievably dominant in man coverage in 2022, giving up only three catches while also snagging three interceptions. He also only allowed a 20% completion rate in man, the lowest among FBS
PROS
Remarkably lanky frame. Limbs for days — ideal for a corner.Has bounce like a hooper. He can challenge any catch point necessary. Elite ability to locate the football. All six of his interceptions came in man coverage.
CONS
Still a stick. Not much mass on his frame. Has eyes that get him in trouble. Some freelance tendencies on tape.Can get bowled over in the run game. Mediocre tackler over the course of his career.
Round 2: 47 Jartavius "Quan" Martin 5'11". 194 lbs Illinois
Stats: 74 targets, 42 catches allowed, 611 yards allowed, 3 tds allowed, 3 ints, 15 forced incompletions, 2 dropped ints, 4 missed tackles, 64 tackles.
PFF Grade: 73.2
Quan is a beast. I thought he was the 2nd best nickel prospect in the draft and a better deep safety than Brian Branch. Martin absolute rockets around the field in the run game. He started his career at cornerback before transitioning into the safety/nickel position. Another elite athlete that is a perfect fit for our Buffalo Nickel defense.
PFF:
Martin came to Illinois and immediately started as a true freshman in 2018. He originally started off as an outside corner before becoming more of a slot corner recently. He had arguably his best year in 2022, as his 15 forced incompletions were tied for the sixth-most among Power-Five corners. Martin’s 91.0 run-defense grade also led all Power Five cornerbacks. While he played corner at Illinois, we project him more as a safety for the next level.
PROS:
Explosive flat-foot breaks. Tremendous burst. Forceful and reliable tackler - 7 misses on the last 129 attempts last two seasons.Fills like a mac truck in the run game. Wants to come downhill and play in the backfield.
CONS:
Pure man skills are work in progress. Overagressive and liability to bite on fakes. cons On the lighter side for an around the line of scrimmage player. Gets caught with his eyes in the backfield on run
Round 3: 97 Ricky Stromberg 6'3" 306 lbs Arkansas
Stats: 9 impact blocks, 11 qb hurries, 0 qb hits, 0 sacks allowed
PFF Grade: 82.4
Nasty. Another guard experience player that spent his last two years at the center position. Award winner of the Jacob's Blocking Trophy for the SEC'S most outstanding blocker award. This is a solid player that has started since he was freshman in the SEC. He's been battle tested since he was kid and has improved every year. He has some knocks about his play strength, but a NFL program should get em to where he needs to be.
PFF:
Stromberg was a three-star recruit in the 2019 class and started for the Razorbacks as a true freshman, mostly at right guard. He moved inside to center for his sophomore season and spent his final three college seasons there. Stromberg’s 82.4 overall grade and 83.7 run-blocking grade in 2022 both ranked fourth among all centers in college football, and his nine big-time blocks were tied for fifth among FBS centers. Not to mention, Stromberg had an incredible performance at the NFL combine.
PROS:
Does not want to let blocks go. Can see him straining his butt of to stay engaged on tape. Tons of experience against top competition. Four-year starter with 3,121 career snaps.
CONS:
Forward lean gets going on the move, making him liable to topple over. Has wide hands to initiate contact in pass protection before resetting. Leaves himself open for stronger rushers.Unimpressive musculature, which leaves questions about how he'll anchor against NFL strength.
Round 4: Braeden Daniels 6'4" 296 lbs Utah STATS:
0 sacks allowed, 1 qb hit allowed, 14 hurries allowed.
PFF GRADE: 72.2 at tackle, 2021 84.4 at guard.
Braeden Daniels is another tackle/guard hybrid, with starting experience across his college career. This guy is on the lighter side but that allows him to be an Explosive athlete. Very raw at the tackle position and will be a developmental guy. I'd like to give em a try as our swing tackle and see how he performs. He was one of the quickest offensive lineman I've seen off the tape and that athleticism will let him climb to the next level. Even on the lightweight side I'd hate to see this guy running at me on the second level.
PFF:
Daniels is an experienced veteran who commanded the Utes’ offensive line for the past few years. He originally started as a guard before switching over to tackle. His best season came in 2021, as he put up an 84.4 PFF grade. Given his time on the interior, Daniels is at his best when run blocking, and his run-blocking grade in 2021 was an elite 89.1. He still held his own as a pass protector, allowing only five sacks in his Utah career.
PROS
Explodes out of his stance. Arguably the quickest get off in the offensive line class. Linebackers don't want to see him climbing. Gets on them before they can even react. Drive in his lower half to still move the line of scrimmage despite being under 300 pounds.
CONS
Wild into contact. He approaches blocks with the adjustment ability of a freight train. consDoesn't bring his hands with him. Clean engagements are rare on tape. Very light by NFL standards (294 pounds at combine).
Round 5: 137 KJ Henry 6'4" 260 lbs Clemson
STATS:
51 tackles, 3.5 sacks, 1 FF, 6 pass deflections, 50 qb pressures, 31 qb hurries, 14 qb hits.
PFF GRADE: 83.1
Loved this pick. Henry was a 5 star recruit coming out of high-school and decided to attend Clemson University. With Clemson having deep lines it took him a couple of years to get on the field. The stats look odd when you only see 3.5 sacks, however, the 50 qb pressures is the key stat. Seems more like bad luck that the sack numbers weren't high. Clemson's whole d-line underperformed (Bresee, Murphey) and they should have picked up more sacks from Henry who was the best DE on that team last year. The team clearly liked him as we traded back up for him. He's not elite athlete, but he is an elite hands guy. Almost had that veteran presence in college. High motor and will immediately make an impact as a rotational de, a position that sorely needed an upgrade.
PFF:
On a team with Myles Murphy, you can easily make the case that KJ Henry was Clemson's best defensive end this year, as he posted better PFF grades than Murphy in every category and even generated 19 more pressures. The only problem is That Henry is 24 years old while Murphy is only 21. Therefore, Henry was expected to produce this well against younger competition. Nonetheless, this doesn’t mean that he can’t still improve. If Henry's play this season is any indication of his potential, he can still have a great NFL career as an edge defender.
PROS:
Heavy hands that are so well refined. Uses them independently to use combination moves.Utilizes hesitations and head fakes so well to catch linemen off-balance. Coaches rave about the type of teammate he is. He is the type of player you want in the locker room.
CONS:
First step that's unimposing for a rusher on the smaller side. Late bloomer. Wasn't even a starter until this past fall. One of the oldest prospects in the class. Already 24 years old.
Round 6: 193 Chris Rodriguez 6'0" 217 lbs Kentucky
STATS: 8 games played, 175 attempts, 904 rushing yards, 6 tds, 5.2 ypa, 5 catches, 41 rec yards.
PFF GRADE: 90.8
Chris Rodriguez is a PFF darling and was rated as the 7th best running back. This guy's is a pure one cut, run you over, power back. There's not much finesse to his game, but there's highlights of dragging guys 10-yards down the field. He does not posses break away speed, but he will get you 40 yards. He was suspended 4 games due to a dui and he may have been drafted higher on am abysmal Kentucky team. An extra 4 games of stats against SEC competition and no suspension may have jumped him into the 4th round. This was an Eric Bienemy guy and they brought him in because of that. Isiah Pacheco was another EB guy.
PFF:
Rodriguez is a powerful runner, but he lacks the burst and creativity to become anything more than a downhill grinder. He has the size and mentality to do the dirty work between the tackles, but it could be a challenge for him to get to and through the hole quickly in the NFL. He’s a physical blitz protector, so teams might envision a role for him as a second-half battering ram and third-down quarterback protector.
PROS:
Two-time team captain. Thick frame with ability to pick up tough yards. Makes tacklers feel his size at impact. Stays square getting through downhill cuts. Low success rate guaranteed for arm-tacklers. Stays on his feet through heavy angle strikes. Allows lead blockers to do their work. Steps up with force against incoming rushers.
CONS:
Below-average burst getting through line of scrimmage. Lacks finesse to navigate tight run lanes. Change of direction is heavy. One-speed running style is easy to track for linebackers. Pad level is a little tall as run-finisher. Inconsistent finding assignment versus blitz.
Round 7: 233 Andre Jones 6'4" 248 lbs Louisiana
STATS: 7 sacks, 5 qb hits, 20 hurries.
PFF GRADE: 77.2
Andre Jones was another hybrid de/lb player coming out last year. He possess 34 1/4" arms which is an elite number for his size. May move to LB, but I'm not sure that's the right move with a 4.71 40-yard dash. He doesn't have much a pass rush move set playing a hybrid role, but does use length to his advantage. A solid developmental pick.
PROS:
Shows a natural feel for setting up blockers and getting them off-balance. His hands are active and violent, and Jones quickly disengages with blockers and counters when his initial move stalls. Possesses accurate snap anticipation and timing to beat blockers off the edge. Offers some versatility, rushing from a two-and three-point stance with the playing speed to stand up in space.Flashes strength as a bull rusher and his energy doesn't plateau. Showed initial quickness and good flexibility to dip and bend. Jones has active hands and suddenness to his movements, demonstrating the ability to counter inside. Has fluid footwork to redirect, reverse momentum and close with a burst. Regularly first off the ball with good snap anticipation. He’s a high-effort pass rusher with an impressive combination of length and speed.
CONS:
Jones has to develop a counter move or two in the pass rush, and Jones needs to make better use of his hands. He lacks the speed of a chase and- tackle guy. He lacks twitch as a pass rusher and lacks the feet and flexibility to threaten around the edge. Jones also shows some stiffness when trying to bend the edge, often getting pushed past the pocket — he seems more comfortable countering back inside.
Draft Summary:
This was my favorite Ron Rivera/Martin Mayhew draft thus far. Going into the draft, offensive line, cornerback, and quarterback were our three biggest needs. Drafting in the middle of the round really took us out of the olineman race. The last one that interested me was Broderick Jones and he went off the board when the Steelers traded up. At that point in the draft it really left us with going cornerback. The Forbes pick was received negatively due to Christian Gonzalez being available. Both players will be viewed under the microscope throughout their careers. I'm fine with Forbes pick though. Another lanky cornerback who was an elite athlete. I did have Gonzalez rated higher going into the draft, but he slid for a reason. A lot of his tape shows him not necessarily being an elite cornerback, but being an elite athlete that plays corner. Forbes actually showed the athleticism, corner skills, and ballhawking ability. Some additional knocks against Gonazalez and his love of the game. Quan Martin was our biggest surprise pick of the draft. A lot of people had him going in the 3rd round, but I think the 2nd was a fine spot. Mayhew after the draft said he wish we were more aggressive at times, which I translated as not getting Brian Branch that went several picks before us. I think Quan was the backup option, but I like him as much as Branch. I think Quan will be a better deep safety and Bramch will be a better nickel. Liked Quan alot, but felt we should have gone o-line at this pick. Ocyrus Torrence would've been a sweet pick here. I think if that happened, the consensus view on our draft would shoot up. Quan will immediately via for playing time as our base defense is essentially a 4-2-5. Kendall Fuller was our only above average corner and now we turned our secondary into a strength. Ricky Stromberg and Braeden Daniels were our next two picks. I like Stromberg’s tape a lot and think by next he will be a solid starter at guard or center. Braeden Daniels will be a nice depth piece and if he's able to tame his play he could develop into a starter. Fun player to watch. KJ Henry was an awesome pick and can see him being a nice rotational piece. Good pick at an underrated area of need on our defense. RB wasn't a pressing need, but it's an underrated area of weakness. I think Brian Robinson is about as average of rb as you will see starting in the NFL. I wouldn't be surprised if Rodriguez slowly cut into Robinson's role over the next two years. Antonio Gibson has had some solid season, but has a severe fumbling problem. Andre Jones will be a depth piece that will need development moving forward.
Offseason summary:
The biggest question of our offseason was our owner, which now appears resolved. Our second biggest question... was who was our starting qb? Sam Howell. Ron preached all offseason that he was going with Howell and I'll be damned, he did. Brissett was good qb to bring in, not someone that would necessarily turn the offseason into a battle, but can be a starter if called upon. Really a true backup qb. I'm all in on the Sam Howell train. I love it for a multitude of reasons. One, he balls out and we have our qb of the future, two he plays well enough we give him another season and maybe Ron is out and we get a high draft pick, three he bombs and we fire Ron Rivera and go for Caleb Williams next season. If anything, it gives us a direction for our future. I'm ready for Ron to go and think he's only as good as his coordinators. I'm concerned that EB AND Howell turn the offense around Ron gets resigned and EB takes a head coaching role... then the offense regressed. Additionally, I don't want Ron to get credit for drafting Howell. It was 5th round pick, you and every team passed on him for 4 rounds. If Howell is that good... it's not because Ron was a genius and drafted him. Very similar to Seattle taking Russel. I am excited about EB being here and think he's the real deal. I will give Ron credit for allowing him to run his own offense as he sees fit. OTA's have shown that EB is pushing his guys hard and is trying to see what he can do with the offense. We really do have elite playmaker and I'm most excited to see what he can do with Antonio Gibson. I can see his role being that of Jerrick McKinnon, with more athleticism. Sam Howell has shown a lot of progress since his rookie season. Had issues with his foot work, but has shown vast improvements. We only have 1 preseason game and 1 NFL game of tape on him. I liked what he showed. When watching tape you could see him going through his progression, man absolutely saved the day wish his escapability- was under pressure the whole game, threw two beautiful deep passes, and won the game. He did throw one bad pick, but was under pressure and playing hero ball. He had one week of practice with the starters, now he has a whole offseason. Our defense should be a top 5 unit next season and we only got better. Chase Young should be fully healthy and he's the X-factor for the number one overall defense. He comes out plays to his full potential then he could be a mid teens sack guy. If we have that sort of production and Sam Howell plays well than we can compete for the decision. Big if though. Our secondary really lacked a 2nd option, Benjamin St Juyce has shown some flashes but didn't seeze the role last year. Now on paper he's the number and that's very solid. We return two top 6 defensive tackles and Montez Swear is one of the most underrated players in the league. He's yet to have a high sack season, but is very much that Jadaveon Ckowney type of player in the run game. Big question mark season for Jaymin Davis. We knew he needed development, but it's been slower than previously thought. Down the stretch he showed flashes that he was coming into his own and now is his year. He's one of the best athletes at linebacker in the league and his ceiling is very very high. Overall I predict we will go 10-7 and challenge for a wild card spot. That record can fluctuate each one, but I'm calling the improvement now. We went 8-8-1 with bottom 3 qb play. The defense got better, we hired a better offensive coordinator, Howell will at the minimum be slightly better than Hienke last season, we didn't lose any major pieces and had a solid all around draft. I'm truly excited to watch how our future plays out.

With his mother dead and his cultist family members out to ruin his life, getting abducted by alien slavers is actually an improvement for Corey Vash. A quick and chaotic escape attempt only succeeds thanks to an unintentional rescue from the impressively skilled and infrequently sober bounty hunters aboard the Hard Luck Hermit. With no clue about how to survive in space and nothing to return to on Earth, Corey joins the crew in their efforts to make a quick buck, try new drinks, and figure out who the hell keeps trying to kill them.
[First Chapter][Previous Chapter][Cover Art][Patreon]
“Alright, our little gun show just got a hell of a lot more complicated,” Kamak said. Zero-G combat was a pain in the ass even for people who’d been specially trained, and as far as Kamak knew, that only applied to Farsus. He and Doprel had been in a handful of zero gravity fights, but he was less than confident in his skills and knew that Doprel felt the same.
“I’m not confident in our ability to manage this combat scenario,” Farsus said. “Melee combat is generally more viable in zero gravity environments, and we cannot hope to beat the Doccan in melee range.”
“On the other hand, lot of handholds here on this ship,” Corey said. He grabbed an exposed mechanical element, one of many jutting from the patchwork halls of the ship, and latched himself in place. It wasn’t a perfect solution, but they had places to brace themselves to avoid the zero-gravity recoil problem. To Vo braced her foot against an oddly welded ridge in the ship’s hull and kept her gun up.
“Could we leave this vessel disabled and wait for the Doccan to send reinforcements?”
“We’ve only got enough disable rounds for one more ship, and the Doccan always escalate linearly,” Doprel said. “They’ll send two, maybe three next time.”
“It’s a little messier than anticipated, but this is still our best shot,” Kamak said. “Guns up.”
The team shouldered their weapons and started kicking off the walls, drifting down the darkened halls of the ship. The vessel had enough of an auxiliary power system to keep some emergency lights on, but even those were intermittent, with many bulbs burnt out by the Doccan’s lack of interest in repairing such a negligible function. They did not feel fear, much less fear of the dark.
Corey, on the other hand, was feeling a lot of fear. His casual interest in sci-fi films had done him a lot of good out here in space so far, but now it was starting to backfire. He’d watched Alien one too many times to be comfortable drifting around the dead silence of this spaceship. He tried to remind himself that there were no xenomorphs here. The only aliens he had to worry about were nigh-unkillable super strong emotionless behemoths.
In retrospect, that was worse, and Corey decided to start thinking about literally anything else just in time to hear something go click.
A three round burst of plasma fire soared down the hall, briefly illuminating the length of it in green fire. One of the bolts caught Farsus on his broad chest, but his armor mostly negated the damage. Kamak returned fire, sending a stream of bullets up the hall, and Kamak himself careening the other way. In his haste to return fire, he’d forgotten to brace himself. The rest of his fireteam made no such mistakes.
With his back to a wall, Corey turned his gun towards the Doccan and took aim. There were two of them, both even larger than Doprel, and wearing patchwork armor to boot. That was an unpleasant development.
“Take out the guns first,” Farsus shouted. The Doccan themselves were durable and heavily armored, but their guns were as fragile as any other weapon in the galaxy. Corey took aim and peppered the Doccan’s limbs with a spray of gunfire. One of the two had the wherewithal to clutch their gun to their side, letting their arm absorb the brunt of the gunfire, but the other kept trying to return fire even as a bullet finally hit home. The metal slug cracked through the plasma repeater’s energy chamber, and the weapon started to vent green fire as the energy cell leaked.
With his weapon damaged, the Doccan took the next logical step and launched himself at his opponents, massive arms raised and ready to strike. The crew took advantage of the zero gravity recoil and let go of their handholds in the wall, then fired at the approaching Doccan. The recoil propelled them away as bullets peppered its thick hide. With no gravity to make it flow outwards naturally, the strange fluid layer beneath the skin of the Doccan started to leak out in blobs of oozing blue.
The floating globs splashed into dozens of tiny droplets as Doprel met his kin coming the other way. The divided drops then scattered in every direction as the shockwave of their colossal impact traveled outwards. Another spray of blue fluid followed shortly after as Doprel dug his fingers into a patch of bullet holes and tore a massive chunk out of the Doccan’s exterior carapace.
“Doprel! Give me an angle on the face!”
With a quick grunt of acknowledgment, Doprel spun around and put the Doccan he was grappling in a headlock. He kept his arms wide and his face behind the Doccan’s back as Kamak took aim at the Doccan’s head and fired. A quick round of bullets tore through the air, a few managing to find purchase in the Doccan’s face, tearing out one of its eyes and a few chunks of mandible. The floating drops of blue liquid pouring out of the broken head were soon joined by a thin flow of black bile -the real lifeblood of the Doccan.
“Not going to be interrogating that one,” Kamak said. “Focus fire and take out his friend!”
Kamak drifted forward and grabbed on to the broken body of the dead Doccan, using it as cover as the hail of bullets continued. Under fire from five sources at once, the Doccan’s defeat was inevitable yet worryingly slow. Corey kept his rifle focused on the joint of its arm for a solid thirty seconds of sustained fire, but it didn’t even drop its gun until the arm was only attached by a few strands of tattered, fibrous “muscle”. Even at that point, the Doccan simply switched hands and continued firing until Farsus blew a big enough chunk of its head off that it stopped moving entirely. Doprel walked up and ripped its other arm off just to be sure, while Kamak took a final few potshots at the head of the other one.
“Bastard’s aren’t afraid to play dead,” Kamak said. “Especially when they know they’re at a disadvantage.”
“Good news is, this means there’s probably just two more,” Doprel said. “If we were dealing with multiple groups there’d have been a full crew of four after us.”
“Best news I’ve gotten all week,” Kamak said. “Now where are the others…”
“We are located in the cockpit.”
Five guns pointed in five different directions as the voice boomed out from a PA system.
“What’s going on?”
“You have stated an intent to interrogate a living subject, and have proven your ability to defeat two or less Doccan in combat,” the monotone voice proclaimed. “There is no further purpose to violent resistance.”
“I see,” Kamak said. They really were logical. “We’ll be right there. Guns up, of course. I’m not dumb enough to not see a trap.”
“We lack the resources to commit to such a deception.”
That did nothing to ease Kamak’s suspicion, for reasons the Doccan could not at all understand. He, Doprel, and Farsus kept their guns up as they head upwards, towards the cockpit of the makeshift vessel. Corey was not far behind, until he realized To Vo La Su was quite far behind. She was bouncing slowly around the hall, trying to dodge floating globs of Doccan ichor—and a few chunks of the Doccan themselves.
“You’ve just got to accept you’re going to get messy and move through it,” Corey said. “The laundry machine on the Hermit is surprisingly good.”
“I don’t have that many clothes to start with,” To Vo mumbled. Due to the impromptu circumstances of her “recruitment” To Vo had the clothes she’d been wearing and a few spare outfits Tooley had been willing to throw at her—most of which fit poorly and had suspicious stains already. “But that is not my issue. I do not- there is a certain amount of- I can’t-”
“To Vo?”
The former transit authority tightened her grip on a gun she was entirely unsuited to carry and took a deep breath. One of the globs of Doccan ichor drifted worryingly close to her face, and she backed away.
“I didn’t want to do something like this again.”
“Again?”
To Vo was naturally small, but she still found a way to shrink in on herself.
“The world I come from was harsh,” To Vo said. “We did harsh things to live. All of us.”
A few chunks of gore drifted by Corey’s head. He knew better than to ask what she meant.
“Yeah. Look, I get it, but, these guys came after us because they thought we were a defenseless bunch of stranded travelers, right? You think they brought all that firepower to escort a bunch of lost souls back to safety, give them a nice pat on the back and a snack for the road? If we’d actually been lost travelers, we’d be dead. And eaten, quite possibly.”
“But we aren’t travelers, and now they’re dead,” To Vo said, pointing out the drifting Doprel corpses as she spoke. “How can this be right?”
“Look, To Vo, nothing’s ever completely ‘right’. Even when you’re purely trying to help someone, who’s to say they ‘deserve’ it, or that there’s not someone else who needs the help more and isn’t getting it?” Corey asked. “You’re never one-hundred percent in the right. Sure, maybe we’re a lot closer to that line between good and bad than we could be, but I think we’re still on the good side of things.”
“And what happens when you’re not?”
Corey didn’t have an answer for that question. Luckily for him, he didn’t get the chance to try.
“Would you two stop fucking moralizing and back us up? This is still a combat zone!”
The ever obedient To Vo La Su was the first to grab her gun and kick off towards the cockpit, heedless of the gore she had to splash through on the way. Corey followed closely behind her, secretly quite happy to let her absorb all the floating ichor instead of him.
***
As it turned out, the Doccan were sincere in their desire to surrender. That left only one dilemma to resolve.
“So. Awkward issue,” Kamak said. “We’ve only got enough restraints for one of you.”
“We will offer no resistance,” one of the Doccan said.
“Oh sure, for now. Until we get attacked by someone else, or we all turn around at once, or you decide you might have a good opportunity.”
“This point is sound,” the Doccan admitted.
“Which one of you knows more about the recent movements in people fighting you guys, and why your people blew up the Bang Gate?”
“I am more knowledgeable on all military matters,” the Doccan on the left said. Kamak pointed to the one on the right.
“And you agree with that sentiment?”
“Yes. However, your inquiries might require a greater knowledge base. I am in charge of monitoring the social habits of various Doccan, and may possess relevant information.”
The other Doccan had barely finished speaking when Kamak shoved the barrel of his gun in their mandibles and pulled the trigger. A burst of rounds tore through their cranium and the Doccan fell over dead. The only surviving Doccan did not even react as his comrade collapsed. As black blood started to drift through the air, Corey very deliberately avoided To Vo’s gaze.
“Not particularly interested in your social media. Alright, Doprel, tie the other one up,” Kamak said. “And you. Got time for questions?”
“I will accede to any line of questioning that does not actively endanger the Doccan species.”
“Great! What’s your name, champ?”
“Doprel.”
Doprel looked up and over the other Doprel’s shoulders.
“Doprel, why is our new friend also Doprel?”
“It’s...actually a term for the working class of Doccan’s,” Doprel said. “I didn’t have any other name, and by the time I realized what was going on it had sort of stuck, so...yeah.”
“Do you want a better name?”
“No, no, like I said, it’s stuck now, no sense changing it,” Doprel said. “Not like we hang out with other Doccan enough for it to be confusing.”
“On that note, for the purposes of this conversation, you are Junior,” Kamak said. The newly christened Junior did not object to this designation, so Kamak assumed he accepted it. “What do you know about why the Doccan attacked the Bang Gate?”
“We were recently informed that new stresses upon intergalactic shipping routes would place additional importance on our galaxy as a trade hub,” Junior said. “Your Galactic Council endures our presence and our attacks on your shipping route as acceptable losses. If this galaxy was to become more important on a galactic scale, they would feel more pressure to protect it, and therefore take more aggressive actions against the Doccan species. A pre-emptive strike to lessen the utility of our home as a trade route mitigates this risk of escalating conflict.”
“And blowing up a fucking Bang Gate isn’t an escalation?”
“The gateway is destroyed. Retaliatory attacks achieve nothing. Your Council has nothing to gain from further conflict.”
“What if they’re worried you’ll blow up another fucking gate, Junior?”
“The measured presence of other species in this galaxy ultimately benefits us by providing resources we would be otherwise unable to acquire,” Junior said. “We have no reason to completely close ourselves off.”
“You guys have a lot of work to do on understanding other species,” Kamak said.
“Typical warfare does not stop when one side considers it merely ‘convenient’,” Farsus said. “If the Galactic Council decides on hostilities, they will not stop until they possess a considerable advantage over you.”
“By our appraisal they already possess a significant advantage,” Junior said. “However, if I survive our conversation, I will pass on your appraisal of the situation to the homeworld.”
“Jury’s still out on your survival. Tell us this and improve your odds: Who told you about all this shipping route bullshit?”
“It was [TRANSLATION ERROR].”
Kamak rubbed the sore spot where his translator chip was implanted and tried again.
“Say again?”
“We were informed of these developments by a [TRANSLATION ERROR].”
“Alright, not going for a third try here,” Kamak said. Whenever the translation software ran through the full suite of languages it knew, it started to overheat a little, and Kamak didn’t want a hotspot in his skull. “Doprel, I thought you gave us the whole language?”
“I did!”
“If I may theorize,” Farsus said. “To my understanding, the Doccan are a very literal people. Junior, when your people are faced with a new entity or concept, do you invent a new word for it?”
“When it is the most convenient course of action, yes,” Junior said. “Oftentimes compound words are formed. Your own people are referred to as ‘Red-Large-No Carapace’.”
“An apt descriptor,” Farsus said. “So we can assume whatever introduced these concepts to the Doccan, it was something they first encountered after Doprel’s departure, and something so unique it prompted the creation of a new word.”
“Fun times,” Kamak grumbled. “Junior, can you describe the thing whose name we can’t understand?”
“I have never seen it.”
“Peachy. What do you know about it?”
“It displayed enough intelligence that our central command council took its provided information seriously.”
“And did your central command stop to think about whether this word-we-can’t-understand had any ulterior motives?”
“Non-Doccan rarely approach the Doccan without ulterior motive,” Junior said. Had he any understanding of irony as a concept, he might’ve pointed out his current situation. “It was decided that the threat presented was legitimate enough to act without regard to possible external agendas from the [TRANSLATION ERROR].”
“Please stop saying that,” Corey whined.
“I am unaware of any reason to do so beyond your physical movements,” Junior said. To him, the flinching Corey did every time he said the word was just a strange muscle spasm, as the average Doccan did not experience pain.
“Just don’t fucking say it. Back to the point, you should know that whoever or whatever brought this stuff to you, they’re using you and your actions as a smokescreen to get away with their own shit,” Kamak said. “They’re pushing to change trade routes and pressure new parts of the galaxy. Maybe the threat is legitimate, but it is only legitimate because they are doing what they’re doing.”
“Noted.”
Junior’s quiet acceptance of the dramatic twist unsettled Kamak more than he’d like to admit. Maybe it was just because he’d lived through so many dramatic twists and turns lately, but he felt like that warranted more of a reaction. The emotionless Doccan accepted every new twist of fate the way a calculator would accept a new number plugged into a math problem.
“So...if we let you live, you’re going to tell all this to your planetary council or whatever?”
“New data will be considered.”
“Fan-fucking-tastic, I guess. Anyone else got questions for Big Blue Number Two?”
“I’ve got one,” Corey said. “How long ago did that weird thing bring you guys all this info?”
“Eighteen Doccan days ago.”
“That comes out to a few months, with everything converted,” Doprel said. The Doccan homeworld had a very slow rotation period.
“Once again putting it well before our run-in with that purple ship,” Corey said. “So we really did just get caught up in a plot that was already going on.”
“If that’s supposed to make me feel better, it doesn’t,” Kamak said.
“It might be useful, at least,” Corey mumbled.
“Final call for questions,” Kamak said. “I want to get out of this floating piece of crap.”
“Just the one,” Doprel said. “If what we’ve said is true, and the Doccan find out they’ve been manipulated into making their own situation worse...what will they do about it?”
“It is impossible to make an assessment of the situation without a consensus of at least one Doccan hive,” Junior said. “If not the full planetary council.”
“Well what would you, personally, do?”
“Obey the consensus of the hive or council.”
“Let’s say there’s no hive or council-”
“If all hives and the council have been obliterated, my priority must be to repopulate the Doccan species first and foremost, ignoring tertiary matters such as this.”
“Doprel,” Kamak said. “Whatever you’re looking for, you’re not going to get.”
“Yeah. Got it.”
Doprel’s sullen silence infected the rest of them, and their interrogation was put on pause for a moment.
“Has your interrogation ended?”
“What?”
“You have asked for final questions and are now silent. Is your interrogation finished?”
“Pretty much,” Kamak said. They’d learned this particular Doccan was next to useless, so they didn’t have much reason to continue. “You got a last request?”
“In some form. Do you intend to assault, kill, or otherwise impede the entity you believe has manipulated the Doccan?”
“That’s the plan, yeah,” Kamak said. “Speaking of assaulting or killing-”
Kamak hefted his heavy rifle once again.
“Cooperation will be beneficial,” Junior said. “Remove my restraints so that I may assist.”
“Oh, yes, sure, that sounds like a great idea,” Kamak said. “Assist us with what?”
“Surviving.”
Something Junior wouldn’t be doing much longer, if Kamak had anything to say about it. It was hard to read a Doccan, but he knew a bluff when he saw it. The captain raised his gun, and had it shoved down again by Doprel.
“Kamak.”
In any other situation, Doprel would’ve been on board with calling the bluff, but the Doccan didn’t bluff often. Kamak reluctantly accepted Doprel’s caution and played his part.
“Okay, this is me taking the bait,” Kamak said. “You’re going to help us survive what?”
“The patrolling warship on route to this location,” Junior said. “My willingness to discuss important information with you was a stalling tactic. We sent a distress ping shortly after you boarded.”
While Kamak started swearing, Farsus did the slightly more sensible thing. He hopped on the comms and turned back towards the Hermit.
‘Tooley, ping the long range scanners.”
“Okay. We got...huh,” Tooley said. It took a moment for the full details to come in, but even the most basic scan functions couldn’t miss the vessel coming their way. “That is a big one. I think that might be a Corrhulk.”
“They’ve kept a fucking Corrhulk flying for the past century?”
“What exactly is a Corrhulk?” Corey asked. He felt context was very important.
“It’s big and it’s got a lot of guns,” Kamak snapped. The Corrhulk was one of the last true warships the intergalactic community had mass-produced. Nowadays what few heavy cruisers existed were mostly just carriers for swarms of small fighters, but enough heavily-rusted Corrhulks were still shambling along in merchant fleets and pirate gangs to give the ship a reputation. “Tooley, what’s the Corrhulk’s ETA?”
“Couple drops if we’re lucky,” Tooley said. “I can get us out of here before then if you get back to the ship.”
“And provided it doesn’t try to chase us,” Kamak said.
“Undo my restraints and I will transmit your cooperation to the vessel,” Junior said. “There is benefit to mutual cooperation.”
“And if your friends on the ship don’t agree?”
“Then you will be killed.”
“Love the bluntness,” Kamak grunted. “I’ve got enough friends.”
“Kamak,” Doprel grunted.
“Oh, I’m sorry, are we making friends with your cousins who want to eat you now?”
“We have more enemies than allies,” Farsus said. “Questionable friends are still friends.”
“We’ve got like four drops on our escape window, guys,” Tooley said. “Whatever you’re going to do, do it now.”
“There are those among the Doccan who have spoken to our informant directly,” Junior said. “Further dialogue may yield further relevant information.”
“Oh fuck me,” Kamak said. “Whatever. Not like we’ve ever made a smart decision, might as well make a stupid one on purpose.”
With a reluctant nod from Kamak, Doprel reached down and untied the thick cables holding Junior in place. The titanic alien immediately drifted towards the console and started inputting a complex series of commands.
“Get back on the ship,” Kamak ordered. “Tooley, prep us to detach and start calculating a faster-than-light vector for us. We’re negotiating over comms, and if they say anything we don’t like, we’re out.”
“Oh, are we not going to invite the murderous sociopaths onto our ship for some drinks and snacks?”
“Just shut up and get us ready, Tooley!”
“Ready to die, maybe,” Tooley grumbled. She shut down her comm link in order to get the last word and started calculating their escape route while everyone else made a mad dash back to the Hard Luck Hermit. Before she rounded the corner and drifted out of sight, To Vo La Su took a look back at the cockpit, back at Junior.
He’d picked up the corpse of his dead copilot and was beginning to gnaw on it. No sense letting good nutrients go to waste. To Vo started to wonder what they were getting themselves into.

Defending the Draft: 2023 Washington Commanders 8-8-1
Preface:
Hope.
This 2023 season will be the most interesting for the Commanders franchise in a long long time. We enter this season with more uncertainty than I have ever been a part of, however, the one thing the fan base is certain of... is the future is brighter. Dan Snyder purchased the franchise in 1999 and subsequently done nothing but run a blue blood franchise into the ground. This team has lacked direction for a long time and a large part of that was due to Dan Snyder's meddling in the day-to-day football operations of the team. Starting his ownership with signing washed up HOF veterans, to then overspending in free agency (Albert Haynesworth is arguably the worst free agent signing of all time), drug scandal with thetraining staff, the mishandling of the RG3 and Kirk Cousins situation, Not resigning Trent Williams, and lastly we've now reached tumultuous time where his off the field issues have hung a dark cloud over a once proud franchise. Although, lol, his most egregious mistake may be hiring Jim Zorn as head coach. It's egregious that his only punishment is a 6 billion dollar payout for his franchise. I hope the banks bury him and he faces the deserved legal actions. As of now there had been an agreement to sell the franchise to 76'rs and NJ Devils owner, Josh Harris.... and is 20ish members of his parliament. We await to hear news of the reviews from the NFL financial committee to close out the process. Last news I came across was he has cut down the number of minority owners to 20. It will be a pleasure when this agreement is finalized. He could be a terrible owner, but it would still be an upgrade from Synder. Harris, seemingly has been a hands off owner and properly allows the people he's hired to operate the team. This last sports season he's had both of his teams deep in the playoff hunt. This season will be interesting. A lot of questions all around: Sam Howell? Chase Young? Ron Rivera? Eric Bienemy? Josh Harris? I'm not sure of those answers, but I'm very excited to find them out.
Coaching:
HC- Ron Rivera OC- Eric Bieniemy DC- Jack Del Rio
Key Additions: Eric Bieniemy
Ole' Riverboat Ron Rivera is back and going into his 4th season with the Washington Commanders, hopefully his last. I believe Ron Rivera is a leader of men, but I highly question his actual coaching skills and team building. I've currently seen enough of this coaching regime and front office to safely say let's move on. There's been several things that I believed were firable offenses.... the Carson Wentz trade. Some rumors have said that this was a Snyder push. Not entirely positive, but Ron bragged that it was his call. Our team at that point was not a qb away from being really good, let alone a Carson Wentz level of qb. The next fireable offense was starting Wentz over Hienke when the playoffs were on the line. Wentz ended up being benched for Hienke, but it was too little too late. The next fireable offense was not realizing we were eliminated from the playoffs. Going into the last week of the season Ron planned on starting Hieneke. Pretty odd to not know you're out of the playoffs, let alone to test Sam Howell out for next season. Additionally, there's been some pretty questionable roster creation decisions. I absolutely hate the versatile secondary and offensive line philosophy. We currently have a patch work offensive line that has the means to fluctuate between average to below average. Not a single player on the line is top 5 at their respected position. Two years ago we had a top 10 o-line, but that had Brandon Sherff playing like a top 5 guard and Charles Leno having his best season. Our o-line took a significant step back this past season and now looks to be our biggest weakness. Ron has shown to trust his own board and has reached (according to the consensus big board) with every single pick so far. People mistake 2019 as one of his drafts ( Sweat, McLaurin, Holcomb), but he was hired at the end of the season. Take this with a grain of salt as it takes at least 3 years to properly review a draft. Rons 1st round picks have been the following: 2020 pick 2 Chase Young- the correct pick at the time, but hard to botch the 2nd overall pick, 2021 pick 19 Jamin Davis- hated the pick at the time, too early for a linebacker... let a lone a project. On tape he looked lost a lot and made up for it with his elite athleticism. He's shown progress, but nothing showing he's worthy of the pick. 2022 pick 16 Jahan Dotson- looks to be an absolute baller, had him ranked above Olave in the pre-draft process. Was a slight reach above the consensus board, but flashed high end ability. Davis has been the only mistake in the 1st round thus far. When I say mistake I don't necessarily mean player, but the roster building philosophy. Whether reaching on Phidarian Mathis in the 2nd round of 2022. Lol, he was older than Payne coming out of the draft, one year of good production, and was taken a round too early. In the next round Brian Robinson was taken and was really just a body. Haven't really seen anything elite with him so far and was a meh pick. John Bates in the 4th round was egregious. Now I have to give credit where it's due. Kam Curl was an absolute steal and can solidify himself as top 5 safety this season if he continues to play this well. Our other starting safety in Darrick Forest also had a lot of bright spots playing this past season.
Arguably, our best offseason move was signing Eric Bieniemy. I'm absolutely excited. Forget everything about him not calling the plays. Reports from OTA's shows his hands on approach and full control of the offense. One of my favorites things I've heard is he is using OTA's to see what the players can do and crafting the offense to their abilities. Time and time again (Scott Turner) you see coaches say this is the offense and not change anything to match the players strengths. We don't know for sure how the offense will look, but if it's anything close to the motion west coast offense the Chiefs have... boy lessssss gooooooo. Jack Del Rio has been up-and-down in his time in Washington. He's had two very slow starts with the defense to start year, however, they've finished strong and kept his job safe. This is really the no excuse year and everyone needs to show up amd show out.
Free Agency:
Key Departures:
Taylor Hieneke- signed with the Falcons
Cole Holcolm- signed with the Steelers
Bobby McCain- signed with the Giants
Carson Wentz- TBD
J.D. McKissic- TBD
Trai Turner TBD
Andrew Norwell- will be released when he passes a physical
Summary:
In my personal oppinion, the only player that hurt losing in free agency was Cole Holcolm. Linebacker is our one weak spot on defense, however, not resigning Holcolm shows Ron's belief in Jaymin Davis's progression. Cole was limited to 7 games last season and has yet to truly break out. Always played very solid and losing him downgraded the position. We've moved on from both starting guards from last year in Norwell and Turner (previously on the Panthers). Both players were liabilities last season and the guard position was easily upgradeable. Bonny McCain was a solid do it all for is player. Lined up at corner, safety, and nickel throughout the season. Hieneke was a big fan favorite, but was never the answer. We thank you for your service though. Carson Wentz, fuck you. Loved J.D. and his time here, suffered a major injury. Not sure if he gets picked up hy another team.
Key Additions:
Andrew Wiley- 3 years for 24 million, 12 guaranteed. Previously on the Chiefs
Nick Gates- 3 years for 16.5 million, 8 million guaranteed. Previously on the Giants
Jacoby Brissett- 1 year for 8 million, 7.5 million guaranteed. Previously on the Browns
Cody Barton- 1 year for 3.5 million, 3.5 million guaranteed. Previously on the Seahawks
Summary:
Simple. In free agency the Commanders did not overspend and tackled positions of need. None of the players signed are top 5 at their position, however, they could all possibly end up being upgrades to what we have. The most interesting is Andrew Wiley. He allowed 9 sacks (tied for 3rd most)... but man he put on the performance of his life in the superbowl. Another stat that favors him is pass block win-rate, which measure if a lineman can sustain a block for 2.5 seconds. Wylie ranked 9th in that stat last season. I translate that stat to mean can a lineman sustain a block against thr initial rush and counter move off the snap. After that 2.5 seconds the ball is thrown or the play breaks down. Another key factor to this signing is it kicks Samuel Cosmi inside to guard. Cosmi has shown flashes being a high end lineman and I expect him to be even better kicking to guard from right tackle. Guard was our weakest position on the line and Wylie signing helped to upgrade the RG position. Nick Gates is expected to he our starting center. He's coming off of a brutal leg injury that made him consider retirement. Has played guard and center and has some positional flexibility. Jacoby Brissett is the best backup qb in thr league. A solid signing if Howell doesn't pan out. Just a solid game manager that doesn't commit many turnovers. Cody Barton is another unproven guy. Last year was his first year with significant reps. Bobby Wagner leaving in FA and Jordyn Brooks injury made em the guy. He showed flashes of coverage abilities and had a lot of tackles. The tackles weren't necessarily a product of his abilities and more so of cleaning up on a bad run defense team. I've read some notes that he has trouble getting off of blocks. Honestly, haven't watched much on the guy, but reports were he played solid down the stretch.
The Draft:
Link to all RAS scores for our draft class
https://commanderswire.usatoday.com/lists/2023-nfl-draft-ras-scores-for-the-washington-commanders-7-player-class-emmanuel-forbes/
Round 1:16 Emmanuel Forbes 6'1" 174 lbs. Mississippi St
Stats: 58 targets, 31 catches allowed for 284 yards (23 yards a game), 3 tds allowed/ 6 ints, 9 forced incompletions, 2 dropped ints, 46 tackles.
PFF Grade: 87.2
If being a 160 pounds is your only knock then I think you're doing something alright. The word on the street is he is already up to 174 pounds. You wouldnt realize hes only 174 pounds by the way he plays the run. Hes not scared to hit and flies ro the ball. Although, he does struggle to get off of blocks. Emmanuel Forbes, per PFF, had the highest rating in man coverage last season, albeit the snap count was very miniscule. Emmanuel Forbes is a lanky corner than played a lot of zone coverage and is a very good scheme fit for what we do. I like the pick and I'm not upset about taking him over Gonzalez, who also had his own question marks. Forbes set a NCAA record with 6 pick sixes. A lot of those were the right place at the right time, but when you have that high of a number than you're doing something right.
PFF:
Forbes is one of the best ballhawks in this class. Over the course of his three-year career, he came down with 13 interceptions. That’s four more than the next closest Power Five cornerback since 2020. Forbes was unbelievably dominant in man coverage in 2022, giving up only three catches while also snagging three interceptions. He also only allowed a 20% completion rate in man, the lowest among FBS
PROS
Remarkably lanky frame. Limbs for days — ideal for a corner.Has bounce like a hooper. He can challenge any catch point necessary. Elite ability to locate the football. All six of his interceptions came in man coverage.
CONS
Still a stick. Not much mass on his frame. Has eyes that get him in trouble. Some freelance tendencies on tape.Can get bowled over in the run game. Mediocre tackler over the course of his career.
Round 2: 47 Jartavius "Quan" Martin 5'11". 194 lbs Illinois
Stats: 74 targets, 42 catches allowed, 611 yards allowed, 3 tds allowed, 3 ints, 15 forced incompletions, 2 dropped ints, 4 missed tackles, 64 tackles.
PFF Grade: 73.2
Quan is a beast. I thought he was the 2nd best nickel prospect in the draft and a better deep safety than Brian Branch. Martin absolute rockets around the field in the run game. He started his career at cornerback before transitioning into the safety/nickel position. Another elite athlete that is a perfect fit for our Buffalo Nickel defense.
PFF:
Martin came to Illinois and immediately started as a true freshman in 2018. He originally started off as an outside corner before becoming more of a slot corner recently. He had arguably his best year in 2022, as his 15 forced incompletions were tied for the sixth-most among Power-Five corners. Martin’s 91.0 run-defense grade also led all Power Five cornerbacks. While he played corner at Illinois, we project him more as a safety for the next level.
PROS:
Explosive flat-foot breaks. Tremendous burst. Forceful and reliable tackler - 7 misses on the last 129 attempts last two seasons.Fills like a mac truck in the run game. Wants to come downhill and play in the backfield.
CONS:
Pure man skills are work in progress. Overagressive and liability to bite on fakes. cons On the lighter side for an around the line of scrimmage player. Gets caught with his eyes in the backfield on run
Round 3: 97 Ricky Stromberg 6'3" 306 lbs Arkansas
Stats: 9 impact blocks, 11 qb hurries, 0 qb hits, 0 sacks allowed
PFF Grade: 82.4
Nasty. Another guard experience player that spent his last two years at the center position. Award winner of the Jacob's Blocking Trophy for the SEC'S most outstanding blocker award. This is a solid player that has started since he was freshman in the SEC. He's been battle tested since he was kid and has improved every year. He has some knocks about his play strength, but a NFL program should get em to where he needs to be.
PFF:
Stromberg was a three-star recruit in the 2019 class and started for the Razorbacks as a true freshman, mostly at right guard. He moved inside to center for his sophomore season and spent his final three college seasons there. Stromberg’s 82.4 overall grade and 83.7 run-blocking grade in 2022 both ranked fourth among all centers in college football, and his nine big-time blocks were tied for fifth among FBS centers. Not to mention, Stromberg had an incredible performance at the NFL combine.
PROS:
Does not want to let blocks go. Can see him straining his butt of to stay engaged on tape. Tons of experience against top competition. Four-year starter with 3,121 career snaps.
CONS:
Forward lean gets going on the move, making him liable to topple over. Has wide hands to initiate contact in pass protection before resetting. Leaves himself open for stronger rushers.Unimpressive musculature, which leaves questions about how he'll anchor against NFL strength.
Round 4: Braeden Daniels 6'4" 296 lbs Utah STATS:
0 sacks allowed, 1 qb hit allowed, 14 hurries allowed.
PFF GRADE: 72.2 at tackle, 2021 84.4 at guard.
Braeden Daniels is another tackle/guard hybrid, with starting experience across his college career. This guy is on the lighter side but that allows him to be an Explosive athlete. Very raw at the tackle position and will be a developmental guy. I'd like to give em a try as our swing tackle and see how he performs. He was one of the quickest offensive lineman I've seen off the tape and that athleticism will let him climb to the next level. Even on the lightweight side I'd hate to see this guy running at me on the second level.
PFF:
Daniels is an experienced veteran who commanded the Utes’ offensive line for the past few years. He originally started as a guard before switching over to tackle. His best season came in 2021, as he put up an 84.4 PFF grade. Given his time on the interior, Daniels is at his best when run blocking, and his run-blocking grade in 2021 was an elite 89.1. He still held his own as a pass protector, allowing only five sacks in his Utah career.
PROS
Explodes out of his stance. Arguably the quickest get off in the offensive line class. Linebackers don't want to see him climbing. Gets on them before they can even react. Drive in his lower half to still move the line of scrimmage despite being under 300 pounds.
CONS
Wild into contact. He approaches blocks with the adjustment ability of a freight train. consDoesn't bring his hands with him. Clean engagements are rare on tape. Very light by NFL standards (294 pounds at combine).
Round 5: 137 KJ Henry 6'4" 260 lbs Clemson
STATS:
51 tackles, 3.5 sacks, 1 FF, 6 pass deflections, 50 qb pressures, 31 qb hurries, 14 qb hits.
PFF GRADE: 83.1
Loved this pick. Henry was a 5 star recruit coming out of high-school and decided to attend Clemson University. With Clemson having deep lines it took him a couple of years to get on the field. The stats look odd when you only see 3.5 sacks, however, the 50 qb pressures is the key stat. Seems more like bad luck that the sack numbers weren't high. Clemson's whole d-line underperformed (Bresee, Murphey) and they should have picked up more sacks from Henry who was the best DE on that team last year. The team clearly liked him as we traded back up for him. He's not elite athlete, but he is an elite hands guy. Almost had that veteran presence in college. High motor and will immediately make an impact as a rotational de, a position that sorely needed an upgrade.
PFF:
On a team with Myles Murphy, you can easily make the case that KJ Henry was Clemson's best defensive end this year, as he posted better PFF grades than Murphy in every category and even generated 19 more pressures. The only problem is That Henry is 24 years old while Murphy is only 21. Therefore, Henry was expected to produce this well against younger competition. Nonetheless, this doesn’t mean that he can’t still improve. If Henry's play this season is any indication of his potential, he can still have a great NFL career as an edge defender.
PROS:
Heavy hands that are so well refined. Uses them independently to use combination moves.Utilizes hesitations and head fakes so well to catch linemen off-balance. Coaches rave about the type of teammate he is. He is the type of player you want in the locker room.
CONS:
First step that's unimposing for a rusher on the smaller side. Late bloomer. Wasn't even a starter until this past fall. One of the oldest prospects in the class. Already 24 years old.
Round 6: 193 Chris Rodriguez 6'0" 217 lbs Kentucky
STATS: 8 games played, 175 attempts, 904 rushing yards, 6 tds, 5.2 ypa, 5 catches, 41 rec yards.
PFF GRADE: 90.8
Chris Rodriguez is a PFF darling and was rated as the 7th best running back. This guy's is a pure one cut, run you over, power back. There's not much finesse to his game, but there's highlights of dragging guys 10-yards down the field. He does not posses break away speed, but he will get you 40 yards. He was suspended 4 games due to a dui and he may have been drafted higher on am abysmal Kentucky team. An extra 4 games of stats against SEC competition and no suspension may have jumped him into the 4th round. This was an Eric Bienemy guy and they brought him in because of that. Isiah Pacheco was another EB guy.
PFF:
Rodriguez is a powerful runner, but he lacks the burst and creativity to become anything more than a downhill grinder. He has the size and mentality to do the dirty work between the tackles, but it could be a challenge for him to get to and through the hole quickly in the NFL. He’s a physical blitz protector, so teams might envision a role for him as a second-half battering ram and third-down quarterback protector.
PROS:
Two-time team captain. Thick frame with ability to pick up tough yards. Makes tacklers feel his size at impact. Stays square getting through downhill cuts. Low success rate guaranteed for arm-tacklers. Stays on his feet through heavy angle strikes. Allows lead blockers to do their work. Steps up with force against incoming rushers.
CONS:
Below-average burst getting through line of scrimmage. Lacks finesse to navigate tight run lanes. Change of direction is heavy. One-speed running style is easy to track for linebackers. Pad level is a little tall as run-finisher. Inconsistent finding assignment versus blitz.
Round 7: 233 Andre Jones 6'4" 248 lbs Louisiana
STATS: 7 sacks, 5 qb hits, 20 hurries.
PFF GRADE: 77.2
Andre Jones was another hybrid de/lb player coming out last year. He possess 34 1/4" arms which is an elite number for his size. May move to LB, but I'm not sure that's the right move with a 4.71 40-yard dash. He doesn't have much a pass rush move set playing a hybrid role, but does use length to his advantage. A solid developmental pick.
PROS:
Shows a natural feel for setting up blockers and getting them off-balance. His hands are active and violent, and Jones quickly disengages with blockers and counters when his initial move stalls. Possesses accurate snap anticipation and timing to beat blockers off the edge. Offers some versatility, rushing from a two-and three-point stance with the playing speed to stand up in space.Flashes strength as a bull rusher and his energy doesn't plateau. Showed initial quickness and good flexibility to dip and bend. Jones has active hands and suddenness to his movements, demonstrating the ability to counter inside. Has fluid footwork to redirect, reverse momentum and close with a burst. Regularly first off the ball with good snap anticipation. He’s a high-effort pass rusher with an impressive combination of length and speed.
CONS:
Jones has to develop a counter move or two in the pass rush, and Jones needs to make better use of his hands. He lacks the speed of a chase and- tackle guy. He lacks twitch as a pass rusher and lacks the feet and flexibility to threaten around the edge. Jones also shows some stiffness when trying to bend the edge, often getting pushed past the pocket — he seems more comfortable countering back inside.
Draft Summary:
This was my favorite Ron Rivera/Martin Mayhew draft thus far. Going into the draft, offensive line, cornerback, and quarterback were our three biggest needs. Drafting in the middle of the round really took us out of the olineman race. The last one that interested me was Broderick Jones and he went off the board when the Steelers traded up. At that point in the draft it really left us with going cornerback. The Forbes pick was received negatively due to Christian Gonzalez being available. Both players will be viewed under the microscope throughout their careers. I'm fine with Forbes pick though. Another lanky cornerback who was an elite athlete. I did have Gonzalez rated higher going into the draft, but he slid for a reason. A lot of his tape shows him not necessarily being an elite cornerback, but being an elite athlete that plays corner. Forbes actually showed the athleticism, corner skills, and ballhawking ability. Some additional knocks against Gonazalez and his love of the game. Quan Martin was our biggest surprise pick of the draft. A lot of people had him going in the 3rd round, but I think the 2nd was a fine spot. Mayhew after the draft said he wish we were more aggressive at times, which I translated as not getting Brian Branch that went several picks before us. I think Quan was the backup option, but I like him as much as Branch. I think Quan will be a better deep safety and Bramch will be a better nickel. Liked Quan alot, but felt we should have gone o-line at this pick. Ocyrus Torrence would've been a sweet pick here. I think if that happened, the consensus view on our draft would shoot up. Quan will immediately via for playing time as our base defense is essentially a 4-2-5. Kendall Fuller was our only above average corner and now we turned our secondary into a strength. Ricky Stromberg and Braeden Daniels were our next two picks. I like Stromberg’s tape a lot and think by next he will be a solid starter at guard or center. Braeden Daniels will be a nice depth piece and if he's able to tame his play he could develop into a starter. Fun player to watch. KJ Henry was an awesome pick and can see him being a nice rotational piece. Good pick at an underrated area of need on our defense. RB wasn't a pressing need, but it's an underrated area of weakness. I think Brian Robinson is about as average of rb as you will see starting in the NFL. I wouldn't be surprised if Rodriguez slowly cut into Robinson's role over the next two years. Antonio Gibson has had some solid season, but has a severe fumbling problem. Andre Jones will be a depth piece that will need development moving forward.
Offseason summary:
The biggest question of our offseason was our owner, which now appears resolved. Our second biggest question... was who was our starting qb? Sam Howell. Ron preached all offseason that he was going with Howell and I'll be damned, he did. Brissett was good qb to bring in, not someone that would necessarily turn the offseason into a battle, but can be a starter if called upon. Really a true backup qb. I'm all in on the Sam Howell train. I love it for a multitude of reasons. One, he balls out and we have our qb of the future, two he plays well enough we give him another season and maybe Ron is out and we get a high draft pick, three he bombs and we fire Ron Rivera and go for Caleb Williams next season. If anything, it gives us a direction for our future. I'm ready for Ron to go and think he's only as good as his coordinators. I'm concerned that EB AND Howell turn the offense around Ron gets resigned and EB takes a head coaching role... then the offense regressed. Additionally, I don't want Ron to get credit for drafting Howell. It was 5th round pick, you and every team passed on him for 4 rounds. If Howell is that good... it's not because Ron was a genius and drafted him. Very similar to Seattle taking Russel. I am excited about EB being here and think he's the real deal. I will give Ron credit for allowing him to run his own offense as he sees fit. OTA's have shown that EB is pushing his guys hard and is trying to see what he can do with the offense. We really do have elite playmaker and I'm most excited to see what he can do with Antonio Gibson. I can see his role being that of Jerrick McKinnon, with more athleticism. Sam Howell has shown a lot of progress since his rookie season. Had issues with his foot work, but has shown vast improvements. We only have 1 preseason game and 1 NFL game of tape on him. I liked what he showed. When watching tape you could see him going through his progression, man absolutely saved the day wish his escapability- was under pressure the whole game, threw two beautiful deep passes, and won the game. He did throw one bad pick, but was under pressure and playing hero ball. He had one week of practice with the starters, now he has a whole offseason. Our defense should be a top 5 unit next season and we only got better. Chase Young should be fully healthy and he's the X-factor for the number one overall defense. He comes out plays to his full potential then he could be a mid teens sack guy. If we have that sort of production and Sam Howell plays well than we can compete for the decision. Big if though. Our secondary really lacked a 2nd option, Benjamin St Juyce has shown some flashes but didn't seeze the role last year. Now on paper he's the number and that's very solid. We return two top 6 defensive tackles and Montez Swear is one of the most underrated players in the league. He's yet to have a high sack season, but is very much that Jadaveon Ckowney type of player in the run game. Big question mark season for Jaymin Davis. We knew he needed development, but it's been slower than previously thought. Down the stretch he showed flashes that he was coming into his own and now is his year. He's one of the best athletes at linebacker in the league and his ceiling is very very high. Overall I predict we will go 10-7 and challenge for a wild card spot. That record can fluctuate each one, but I'm calling the improvement now. We went 8-8-1 with bottom 3 qb play. The defense got better, we hired a better offensive coordinator, Howell will at the minimum be slightly better than Hienke last season, we didn't lose any major pieces and had a solid all around draft. I'm truly excited to watch how our future plays out.

Kita's eyes widen at the blue-eyed princess's offer.
"You know where he is?" Kita stammers, caught off guard by the sudden awareness.
"Do you still seek revenge?" The princess asks.
Kita doesn't respond, this posh girl has her number. 'Still'? She doesn't want to give away all of her leverage, what kind of an interrogator gets interrogated?
"I've looked into the dark one's eyes," The princess adds. "I saw something similar to what I'm seeing now,"
The black eyes? Is the dark one missing their soul as well?
"What'd you see?"
The girl pauses, squinting at Kita before shrugging her shoulders. "Loss,"
"Tell me what you know." Kita orders.
"I will tell you, if you take me with you,"
"Huh?"
"It's obvious you aren't an interrogator. Your methods alone are beyond mediocre,"
"You an expert victim or something?" Kita scoffs.
"Not quite," The princess chuckles. "I will tell you anything you want to know if you get me out of here,"
"What makes you think I can do that?"
"I've seen you destroy armies, Kita."
Kita shuffles backwards. This princess doesn't just know about her soul, she knows more about Kita's past, than Kita. Armies? She remembers nothing of destroying armies. The idea of being so powerful sends a shiver down her spine.
A curiosity. A new desire. Such power sounds enticing. She couldn't fathom losing to the dark one despite having so much power- She may be underestimating the number of souls she needs to consume. The amount of power she currently has is barely a fraction of what she's achieved before.
"I'm not really that girl anymore," Kita stutters, trying to deflect the information.
"I noticed," The princess responds, rising to her feet. "You're much more polite now,"
"I am?" Kita says, stepping backwards as the blue-haired girl steps towards her. The girl is tall and walks with a towering posture. A royal walk. Slow and encroaching.
"You've forgotten everything this time? It is as if you don't even remember who you were,"
"And what do you think I was?" Kita asks.
"A warrior. A leader… A monster,"
The princess reaches her arms out to Kita, prompting a defensive stance. But before Kita can prepare, the princess's arms drape around her shoulders and then pulls Kita in for a warm, firm, hug.
"You poor thing," The princess whispers. "You're the shell of your former self,"
Kita pushes the girl off of her, overwhelmed by the sadness being expressed. She doesn't see herself the way this woman does and being called a shell is degrading. Is this some kind of disrespect? The way royalty manipulates the minds of others?
"People change," Kita scoffs. "I don't need your comparisons,"
"Sorry," The princess responds politely, surprising Kita yet again. "We were good friends in your past life… You usually remember me,"
"Well, I don't… Not this time,"
"Then I shall befriend you yet again," The princess passes an endearing smile.
"Not interested," Kita dismisses, "I'll get you out of here if you tell me everything you know about the dark and my past,"
"Escaped prisoner!" a voice yells from beyond the door, echoing through the stairwell. Prompting a look of urgency as they both glance towards the door.
"We have a deal," The Princess nods. "My name is Raya,"
"Listen, Princess. There's a kid named Jan who also had his soul stolen. I'm getting him out of here as well,"
The guards definitely noticed Kita's little mess once they got back. It's time to get out of here- she steps over to the door and knocks twice. Raising her hand in preparation for the door to swing open. The moment the burly guard reveals herself, Kita consumes her soul and catches the falling body to pull it into the room. From the corner of her eye, she sees Raya grab a knife from the guard's body and strap the rifle over her shoulder.
"You know how to use that?" Kita asks, raising an eyebrow.
"I've never met a royal who couldn't," She responds with a focused expression on her face.
Kita glances out the doorway to see only two other guards on the floor- the rest must have left to search for the prisoner. She walks straight towards both of them with her hands raised and from a reasonable distance she casts another consume spell. That's thirteen. It's not enough. After what the princess told her, it all feels so distant.
"Come on," Kita clears her throat. The floor is empty, and they need to get a move on before they realize she's on this floor. She positions herself by the door to the stairwell, taking a deep breath to focus up.
The princesses' blue hair and rags stand out like a sore thumb. Anyone would notice her or know she's a prisoner- sneaking about won't do. They'll have to fight their way out. This girl had better know what she's doing.
"They're planning on trading the kid, do you know where they would take him?"
"Vlad's office, on the second floor,"
This is the fourth floor, so his office is up six flights of stairs. Nothing too crazy, from there, are three more flights to the exit.
Kita cracks open the door to the stairway, looking through the gaps in the railing below to see if the coast is clear. She then looks up to see an open door three flights up, on the third floor.
They step into the stairwell and scurry their way up the three flights of stairs whilst trying to remain as quiet as possible. Before she reaches the top of the third-floor staircase, she pauses to look into the door. She sees four sets of poots huddled together by the door and readies a spell.
As she takes another silent step to the top of the stairs, the group of raiders breaks and each of them step into the stairwell. Kita freezes in a moment of panic, and one of the raiders looks in her direction before a look falls on the raider's face.
"She's here!" He yells, raising a pistol at her as the others turn to raise their weapons as well.
Raya instinctively steps up close to Kita's back as she rotates her wrist. Kita's natural reaction to danger comes with a muscle memory she was hoping to see. The same one from the rich folk's tent- Shield.
The raiders open fire in the stairwell, bullets erupt in all directions as bright streaks of light ricochet into the sphere of energy surrounding Kita and Raya.
Click.
The first raider runs out of ammo. Kita raises her arm across her body, preparing to strike.
Three more clicks follow. The nearest raider is out of her reach, and still reloading. She drops the shield and announces a spell in her mind.
Slice.
Her arm extends, and like a sword- she slashes across the nearest raider's chest. In the same motion, a sharp slice of wind crosses the raider's chest- Creating a deep gash from his shoulder to his pelvis. The upper third of the gun in his hand falls clean off the rest of the weapon before his body falls to the floor.
Without a second thought, Kita raises her hand at the two raiders nearest to the door and casts a push. The doorway to the third-floor busts open, sending the two raiders through the newly made hole.
As Kita raises her arm to the last raider, who's just finished reloading. Raya suddenly appears in front of her. With a few swift strafes, Raya kicks the gun out of the raider's hands and uses the blade she'd collected in three swift moves. An X marked by two cuts to the raider's chest, and a cut to the throat.
"Holy shit. The Princess is violent," Kita jests.
"I led an army," Raya chuckles.
"Sure, but those two extra cuts were just-" Kita exhales and puts her hands on her waist.
"Oh please, did you see what you did to that guy's chest?" Raya rolls her eyes. "I've never seen you do that one before,"
"Is that right? Your pal Kita the conqueror couldn't think of that one, huh?" Kita smiles, a knowingly smug one. She jokes, but she genuinely feels proud of herself for thinking of it.
Raya laughs, readying her rifle, "You're different, but you haven't really changed,"
"What's changed?"
"For starters, the old Kita would've taken them all out with one spell," Raya responds, stepping into the hallway of the third floor.
"Well, I prefer to make it a fair fight," She sasses, stepping into the debris-filled room to hear the sound of a few coughs. They step over the bodies of two other raiders who must've been on the other side of the wall.
Two sudden pops erupt from Raya's gun, dropping a guard at the opposite end of the room who was still on his feet. On one half of the room are rows of bunk beds, with the other half having a kitchen and a seating area. The place is a mess- understandably considering how many people probably stay here.
"How many souls?" Raya asks, surveying the room.
"Huh?"
"How many do you have left?"
"Feels like… nine," Kita answers. "We should head upstairs,"
"We got lucky. This is usually where they all congregate," Raya says, turning back to the stairway.
"Where would they be?"
"Mostly likely a job,"
Kita's eyes widen, thinking it might have something to do with the kid. She double-times her way out of the room and up the stairs when she hears the ricocheting of bullets before the sound of crackling emits from the floor below.
She casts a shield all around her, and Raya steps inside moments after. They both start moving up the staircase, trying to shift in unison to avoid either of them being exposed to the whizzing bullets.
^{AUTHOR'S NOTES
Read ahead on RoyalRoad [https://www.royalroad.com/fiction/68702/soul-stealer-anti-hero-reincarnation-fantasy](https://www.royalroad.com/fiction/68702/soul-stealer-anti-hero-reincarnation-fantasy})
^{Kita's thoughts - Post Chapter 9
"I really need to pee"}

This may be long but is is time for me to tell someone, anyone my story. I am 22(m) and have battled depression, anxiety, and a whole shit load of stress for just about 4 years now. It all started when I was involved in an accident fresh out of high school where I got a head injury. At this point I am a relaxed, easy going kid who just has a good time with life. Doctors diagnosed a severe concussion and sent me home to heal. NEVER has my life been the same. I quickly noticed my brain thinking and juggling way to many things at once. Breaking down on a daily basis for no reason and no understanding of what is happening to me. At 20 I tried to take my life and was unsuccessful. Things were getting worse everyday and i lost control of my brain and my thoughts. Eventually trying medication to make myself happy and help me progress my career. the profession I chose at 16 years old knowing it was going to take me where I wanted. Meds turned me to a zombie. Not a sign of emotion came out of me for months as I forgot how to laugh, how to be sad, mad, glad, etc. I completely lost all emotion. I quit my meds about a year ago and that brings me to now. I am able to reach the absolute HIGHEST of HIGHS and LOWEST of LOWS. Any smile is followed by a frown. Any laugh is followed with a cry. Anything good is immediately wrote of in my head as “undeserved”. Good days are followed by nights full of crying and depression. I have no motivation to do anything I enjoy, no motivation to work which is the thing I’ve prided myself on since I was old enough to think. I no longer want to be here, I no longer have anything I want more than death… the one thing keeping me here is my high school sweetheart. The one who watched my life nosedive to hell and spends every bit of energy just keeping me afloat. The effort she put into loving me, and into making me love myself keeps me here. In the end, I live through the highest of highs in life and I live through the lowest of lows. And I can tell you right now… the lows are winning. I know this helps nobody, but I need someone to hear my story. I need to get this off my chest. Eliminate that fake smile I put on everyday and just tell the truth.

First chapter! Hello Everyone! Here's chapter two, and thanks again to u/MelasD for Amelia's universe!
​
A Scale of Vengance, Part Two.
I awoke in a place I did not recognize, remembering the spell circle, and the Egg, but this space was alien, beyond anything I had seen.
{Welcome! You have been chosen/volunteered for introduction to the [Guardian Spirit] program! I am your guide for this process, do you consent to continue? Saying no will have no consequence for rejection, saying yes will begin the process of integration into the program. Y/N?}
I blinked, listening to a voice made of several voices, some male, some female, blended into each other, like a choir. I said “Yes”, not wanting to be rejected, and the Guardian not be resurrected.
{Input received! Welcome Spirit Host! You will now pick your Avatar for the Dragon Spirit, this avatar will affect how the spirit interfaces with the world around it, its potential powers, and instincts toward you, and the world around it.}
A path lit up before me, and darkened behind me, guiding me as I walked forwards into a field full of Dragons! I looked at them, all beautiful and majestic, yet each one slightly different from the next. One of the Dragons was playing with a large ball, bouncing it around on it’s nose as a game. It addressed me in a high pitched voice.
“Hello! I was the [Guardian Spirit] who watched over your city, and together with my Host, we were Carana! We had so much fun playing together, but I was tired and hungry when I was killed fighting.”
The Dragon was no bigger than I, and on all fours, so I petted her, reassuringly. “You tried, that [Hero King] is beyond what we expected, though you being hungry affected the fight? Why didn’t you eat before you fought?” I asked as she leaned into me.
The Dragon formerly known as Carana looked at me sadly “There was nothing left to eat, my host was all gone, and I had been hungry for some time.”
I squatted on my haunches “Why didn’t your host just give you more to eat before a battle?” I asked, bewildered at why she had been neglected so.
The little dragon sighed, wilting visibly “You don’t understand, we Guardian Spirits are fed by consuming our hosts. You give up part of yourself for power, and we live off of your energies.”
All of a sudden, I looked at the room full of interested Dragons in a new light. Not as someone choosing to be granted great power, but volunteering to become a meal. I backed away from the small dragon, who just looked sad before bouncing the ball back into the air, and seemingly forgetting about me.
Another dragon walked up to me “I overheard your last conversation, I can tell that you don’t want a silly, fun loving spirit as your companion. I am the oldest and dare I say wisest of us here. I specialize in Magic and Agriculture.”
I looked at the green dragon, whose eyes were old, old beyond reckoning. Yet there was a softness to it, one that made me feel full of life and power through connecting with nature.
“I don’t feel like we are compatible for what needs to be done, but would you help guide me, Green Dragon in helping find who I should journey with?” I asked it, and it smiled, it’s bark like skin cracked into a smile.
“I’d be delighted! So few ask that! You are a intelligent being, young master, the one of us you choose will be fed well, I think!”
I greatly daring ruffled the leaves of its mane playfully just as another being walked into the room, one with an absolutely alien appearance, a Black skinned Insect dressed up in Yellow silks.
The Green dragon Purred under my touch exclaiming “Ah! The gods smile on us, the feast continues!”
The being walked over to us, chittering and clicking, and oddly the Green Dragon returned the noises for a minute before looking back to me.
“This H’hanata [Warrior] is on the same journey as yourself, a Host candidate. The polite thing to do is to nodd like this, and let them touch your head with theirs.” The Green Dragon Bowed to the 8 foot tall insect, which bowed in return touching its feelers to the Dragon’s head. I followed, feeling the odd feathery touch of feelers upon my scalp for a second, before it lifted its head, and I followed.
More clicking followed, and while the Green dragon was occupied, another orange and blue Dragon approached me. “Hello, I am the Dragon of Temperature. I make things colder or warmer, as well as changing the states of matter. I’d be pleased to help you, and my powers are based in science, we could lead your people into a new Golden Age!”
The Dragon trotted in place, excitedly so, enough to knock off the glasses it had pinched to it’s nose. I couldn’t help but be impressed by it having hopes as well. If the Green dragon was magical and wise, this one felt full of potential and energy. I felt drawn to it, if this had happened before the war, we would have bonded for sure. But..
“Thank you, but..” I almost finished before the [Warrior] approached, and with a rapid exchange of clicks exchanged both looked at me with the Temperature Dragon shuffling its claws “I think I have a host, now, but she wishes to know if we need it, can we call on you and what dragon you bond with in return?”
A popup appeared in front of me {Friend Request, Temperature Dragon and Lumm’ta wish to ally themselves with Spirit Candidate Talio. This may result in being summoned, or allow you to summon in return for a period based on your contribution’s limit. Y/N}
I said “Yes” knowing I may need help faster than I’d wish it.
{Input Received! Friend request accepted!}
The Mantid and Dragon Bowed before glowing and fusing, disappearing in a bright light together. I looked around as the Green Dragon approached me once again.
“Lucky bastard, every time he sells that “Golden Age” crap, people fall all over him.” The Green dragon muttered disgustedly.
I looked at him “You sound like you don’t think he can deliver on it?” I asked it, curiously.
The green dragon harrumphed “The Temperature Dragon can, but it also leads to the destruction of more worlds than any of us are responsible for. Progress for its own sake is dangerous if not managed closely.” He said, beckoning me to follow with a raised foreclaw before leading me on, toward a Black dragon.
“Go away.” The small black cinder spoke.
The Green dragon booted it in it’s tail, leading to a angry Black drake lashing out, less cinder like now as I seen it’s elegant form uncurled. It looked me up and down before curling back into a ball again.
“Are you deaf? Go away.” It spoke. “I don’t want to eat you.”
The green dragon spoke up. “You don’t get that choice, Cinder. It’s our Karma do so if asked. So, let’s hear it. Unless you want me to oversell your abilities?”
It huffed before looking all kinds of fake enthused “Hello! I’m the Dragon of Time! Using my power, you can revert time back to the point of us joining, literally resetting every choice in the universe regardless of how big or small allowing you to alter any action and its consequences!”
It said this, smiling all the time like it’s face was breaking, before collapsing back into a puddle of melancholy.
I listened, before giving the dragon a hug, something that caused it to hiss and shake, before I let go.
“*Hissss* What the hell was that for?” It asked.
“You look like someone who has seen something bad, so yeah. That and I kind of need one myself, seeing I’m not going to leave here without being one of you dragon’s dinners.” I said, in all seriousness, kneeling in front of it’s hurt expression. Do you mind answering a question for me?
It nodded, so I asked “What’s the drawback to your power?”
The Dragon looked thoughtful, then answered “The less bonded we are, the less the efficiency between the amount of energy used to alter time.”
I asked “Does that mean your power is limited then?”
It rested its head in my lap “It means that if we don’t first bond, you lose ⅓ of yourself for each major change, and in doing so reduces our future ability to bond. This is true of most of us, that bonding affects how we digest our meals. But for me, people wish for big changes often before we bond, and it’s not long before I’m back here, or stuck without a host, and too weak to help what cause my host wanted to alter.”
It looked up into my eyes “I don’t want a meal, not like that. Go with the old timer, and enjoy centuries of time.” It said waving a ebony set of claws at the green dragon. “I can only wish for that level of efficiency.”
The green dragon harrumphed “The candidate’s world is in the midst of a class 3 Void incursion, The Angel Guardian has been activated, and is seeking aid. This means the system grants a 90% reduction in the cost of our abilities for the duration of the crisis. The previous guardian had no host energy left to spend, so was defeated!” It said, swatting the former guardian Carana’s ball across the cavern, causing her to roar indignantly.
The Green dragon and Black Dragon chuckled at the immature antics as Carana pouted. I asked “So, what’s your deal, besides being mischievous?
The Blue Dragon stuck it’s forked tongue out at the Green dragon before addressing the Question. “I am the Fate Dragon. My abilities can see into the future and nudge things, making outcomes both practical and impractical happen.”
“That’s different from the Time Dragon?” I asked.
“Yes!” the Blue Dragon chirped happily “Where Cinder can change what has already happened, but not see how that action can change things, I can alter what may be, but once things happen I am powerless to alter it.”
The Black Dragon Grumbled “That’s true, and seeing the outcome of things, she can also most efficiently gauge how much of a host she needs to achieve what you need. It’s why Carana never stays here long, though she already knows you won’t choose them.”
The Blue dragon nodded “My next host will arrive in 15 minutes, 12 seconds from when Yellow punts my ball back to me.”
And sure enough the ball came sailing back towards them, intercepted by Blue, who chortled bouncing it along as they left.
I started to take my hand off the Time Dragon’s scaled forepaw, but found my hand growing heavier, like it didn’t wish to separate, and suddenly I knew neither did I. At the same time the Dragon’s eyes widened. “Why Me?” It asked in a voice wavering between grief and hunger, it looking both excited and worried, as we glowed brighter together.
“We are a match, because I already have the [Judge] skill, so we won’t burn out without knowing the costs. That and even the Green dragon looked at me as a meal. You see me as more than sustenance.” I said, as the Brightness fully engulfed us as we merged.
***===***
The Green Dragon watched the pair disappear, starting their shared life. “Be well, my child. Feed gently, hurt your host as little as you can. For they will soon be part of you.” He intoned, knowing his child’s power was hard to manage, but her heart was pure despite her color and appearance.