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Undrat knew he wasn't the brightest neo-sapient in the galactic arm. None of his people would ever be known for hyper-intelligence or cleverness or ingenuity. They were not grand philosophers or intellectuals. They admired intelligence, admired cleverness, even though comprehending it beyond acknowledging it was largely beyond their capabilities.
That did not mean his people were worthless. His people were the kind of people that slogged through history, their eyes on the goal, ever walking forward. In the long drawn out march of time they had discovered each thing slowly and progressed to the next even if it took centuries or millennia. It did not concern them that they were considered one of the less intelligent neo-sapience species, they knew what was important.
Hard work. Perseverance. Endurance.
For over fifty million years they had been one of the Neo-Sapient Species watched over by the Unified Council. Their home-world had been forgotten as they spread out among the Lanaktallan worlds. They were largely uninterested in colonies or expanding their race.
They were content to enjoy the finer things in life.
A job well done. A difficult and lengthy problem that the solution was perseverance being accomplished. Enduring whatever had to be endured.
Over the aeons Undrat's people had always worked for the Lanaktallan. They were proudest of the fact that they were often moved by the tens of thousands to a new colony to provide the manual labor that a robot had not yet been programmed and fashioned to do.
They had been part of the Unified Council for so long that most of the other species viewed them more as furniture or a standard issue part of anything that required labor.
Undrat's people were robust. Their thick skin let them endure harsh solar emissions, their thick bones and heavy muscles let them handle work on planets up to 1.6G, more than twice the preferred gravity of the rest of the Unified Council species. Their internal organs allowed them to eat and flourish on bare nutripaste without even most of the additives that the majority of races required. They could eat rudimentary crops and usually even local food species with no difficulties. They healed quickly, even from injuries that would kill most of the Near-Civilized and Civilized Species.
But they weren't the brightest or sharpest.
Undrat had worked in a warehouse when the humans came. He and his men had watched the humans land. Had seen them and had admired their form, much like their own. Bipedal, two arms, moving with power even if they didn't always move with grace.
He had largely ignored them, preferring to keep with his own work, which was carrying boxes and crates, running grav-dollies, and doing other hard jobs.
His muscles were thick and solid, his endurance deep and rapidly recovering.
He could work a whole nine hours and after fifteen hours of rest be ready to work again. He could lift his own body weight above his head.
The Lanaktallan who was his Overseer had always praised Undrat and his fellow workers. After all, the Tukna'rn people were the backs the colony had been founded on. He was valuable property of the Fu'uku'ugu'utmien Industrial Conglomerate, with bar codes down his arms, across his back, chest and forehead, and across the back of his neck that he had been born with, the bar codes tattooed into his very gene code.
If he had ever been curious enough to look he would have found that he and every one of his fellow Tukna'rn were more valuable to the Conglomerate than a fork lift. He would have just nodded, not really understanding why it should be surprising. He could work on any surface he could stand on, could work in different gravities, in different weather, with different cargos, without the need for programming or expensive mechanical maintenance.
Of course he was more valuable. He could be put in cryosleep to go to the next world and virtually ignored for centuries if need be.
The Terrans, the humans, had arrived and then came the great roars of THERE IS ONLY ENOUGH FOR ONE which made no sense to Undrat. Did not the dining facility have enough for everyone to eat? Was there not enough work to go around? Did not the Fu'uku'ugu'utmien Conglomerate not own all the resources of the planet and the people upon it?
The reply of THEN DIE ALONE! made no sense to Undrat either. He could not imagine being alone for long. Tukna'rn and every other species capable of thinking were always in groups.
Before he could be disturbed by having to contemplate the roars the sirens had gone off.
Undrat had been sent into a shelter beneath one of the great warehouses. He and his fellow Tukna'rn sat patiently, eating and sleeping and everything else according to the computerized schedule. At time the floor shook and faint vibrations could be felt.
Eventually the roar of THERE IS ONLY ENOUGH FOR ONE! had ceased.
The shelter had sounded the 'all clear' and Undrat and his fellow Tukna'rn had been allowed back onto the surface of the planet. They had emerged, blinking at the harsh light that somehow penetrated the thick cloud cover. Their skin flushed a deep bluish-green in response, reacting to the increased radiation from the sun and the clouds.
The Overseers had gone. Fled. Left.
The Overseer in charge of Undrat and his fellow Tukna'rn workers was confused and angry. He approached the Terrans and whatever it was that the Terrans told the Overseer seemed to anger the Overseer more.
Undrat himself heard the Overseer tell the Terrans that the Tukna'rn people were valuable assets, extremely valuable property of the Fu'uku'ugu'utmien Conglomerate and that he could not believe that the Conglomerate had abandoned them.
Then the Conglomerate had returned with the forces that kept unruly colonists and workers in line. MilSec, CorpSec, and the fabled Executor Security Forces arrived in ships. Undrat had heard the Overseer tell the Terrans that of course the forces coming in weren't hostile, they were just there to protect valuable conglomerate property.
Then the alarms sounded and the shocked and distressed looking Overseer led Undrat and his fellow Tukna'rn workers into the shelter again.
Strangely enough, for reasons that Undrat did not know and did not think to ask, even more workers were led into the shelters by the Overseer. Many different species, some of whom even did the more intellectually demanding jobs of monitoring computers and other important systems.
The Undrat simply sat in the shelters and waited. They counselled the other species not to complain, after all, there was food, air, water, and enough room to sit and even exercise facilities to maintain one's strength and endurance.
Again, there was the rumblings and vibrations.
The Overseer seemed extremely concerned, often wringing all four hands as he sat in the Facility Overseer's office.
At one time Undrat himself saw something strange. The Overseer was talking to a hologram of another Overseer, who was obviously giving the Overseer orders. The Overseer suddenly picked up a chair that the Tukna'rn used when sitting in the Overseer's office and smashed the holotank with it.
Three sleep shifts later the elevator came down and a squad of armored Overseers with "EXEC-SEC" written on them exited. They asked for the way to the Overseer's office. Undrat was tasked to show them.
Undrat knew his people were not considered very intelligent and that he was an average Tukna'rn.
But 'within standard species median' did not mean 'stupid.'
He heard the Executor Overseer sneer about how Undrat and his people were 'lounging in such opulence and safety' and how 'they would be better used to clog the guns of the Terrans' rather than 'inhabiting a shelter better put to use by their betters'.
His people were incurious not unintelligent.
Undrat did not like what they were saying. His people were not animals. They were not wastes of resources. They were valuable and coveted property of the conglomerate and his Overseer was proud of them and admired by his peers for overseeing such industrious properties.
When he got to the Overseer's office he was ordered to stand there, as if he was a robot. That did not bother him, he was used to short commands.
The Executors ordered the Overseer to 'evict the neo-sapients so they could be armed to force the Terrans to fight them' and the Overseer protested.
Undrat did not care about the argument at first. It was between beings who far outranked him and usually gave orders.
But one statement got his attention.
The ExecSec commander said it, pointing at the Overseer.
"Kill this fool."
Undrat reached out as the ExecSec officer drew his pistol, put his hands to either side of the Lanaktallan's torso, and twisted as he squeezed. Ribs crunched and the spine crackled as Undrat twisted the Lanaktallan's torso and bent it to the side.
The other Tukna'rn did the same. Undrat's father, Ildrut, brought both fists down on the armored flank-spine of the one next to him, breaking the Lanaktallan in half.
The Overseer merely stood and watched.
Neural pistols went off and neural bolts thudded into the Tukna'rn, who felt them as a slight burning tingle where they hit and raised welts like they had been bitten by a particularly aggressive insect. A plasma pistol was fired twice, catching the paper clothing on fire but only causing the skin of the Tukna'rn to darken and painful burns on the first two layers of skin to happen.
Then it was over.
The Overseer stood there and nodded slowly.
"You are loyal and valuable property," he said softly. "You did not betray the Conglomerate, the Conglomerate has betrayed you and every being in this shelter."
The Overseer looked up from the bodies of the dead Lanaktallan, killed by heavy strikes of blunt fists and the pressure of the Tukna'rn grip.
"Gather their weapons. Any who come down the elevator are to be killed until further notice," the Overseer said.
But no more came down.
Finally Undrat, who went everywhere with the Overseer, even slept in the same room as him, always carrying a riot shield and a heavy plasma rifle, saw the Overseer talk to one of the Terran lemurs on his vid-display.
It was nearly a month later when the Overseer stated that he, and a handpicked group, would ride the elevator to the surface and speak to the Terrans.
Undrat rode the elevator silently, holding onto the rifle.
If the Terrans attempted to harm the Overseer, then he would kill them.
Unlike the Tukna'rn, they would be as fragile as everyone else in a universe built to challenge even the Tukna'rn people. IF a fist did not do it, then he had a plasma rifle.
He would not let the Overseer, who had shepherded and cared for the Tukna'rn since the time of Undrat's father's father's father's father's time, to come to harm.
The clouds were low and heavy. The air smelled of burnt plants and like a greenhouse that had caught on fire. The air was heavy with soot and ash and lightning ripped at the clouds and the ground in equal measure.
The Overseer had been wise to order everyone into hazardous environment suits. The world did not look as it had.
Undrat looked around him. It looked as if a forest had grown where the tarmac of the great warehouse complex had once been, and had then been burnt away to leave behind sticky black ash.
There was a heavy vehicle present. A large tracked vehicle, with a heavy cannon on it. The back was open, a ramp leading from the interior of the vehicle to the ground. Six bipeds with two arms walked down the ramp, all of them in some kind of black armor.
Undrat could tell they were Terrans. They moved like the Tukna'rn people. With strength and power, even though they were taller and thus more slender. He nodded to himself that they all had weapons, after all, the Overseer had stated that the Conglomerate was fighting the Terrans over the Tukna'rn and other neo-sapients on the planet.
Of course they were. The Tukna'rn were valuable property.
Two of the six Terrans were carrying something fascinating to Undrat. They worse what looked like a kind of loading frame that Undrat had been trained to use when the object to be loaded was too much for even his strength. The frame was also attached to a heavy looking gun with a barrel as thick as Undrat's arm, the bullets leading into the gun were bigger than Undrat's fingers. It even had a small screen angled for the Terran to be able to look at it. A datacable went from the gun to the armored arm of the Terran.
While the Terrans and the Overseer spoke, Undrat stared at the large gun. Curiosity, finally stirred to life by the entire situation, tickled at him. A strange feeling, but one that urged him to ask a single question instead of just mutely staring.
"Is it heavy?" Undrat asked, speaking without first being asked a question. He was not addressing anyone of rank, he knew that. The Overseer was talking with the two who obviously had ranking. There were merely the two with the big guns and two others with heavy looking rifles that looked almost unfinished.
The Terran looked at him, its face hidden by the black front of his helmet. It hefted the big gun. "It's pretty heavy."
"How much does it weigh?" Undrat asked, curious as to how much a Terran could carry.
"Ninety-two kilograms outside the man pack frame," the Terran said. "Total weight with the gunner's man-pack frame is one-hundred-twenty kilograms."
Undrat's datalink, which helped him with things he was slow to do, told him how much it weighed, which was as much as he weighed.
"Is it effective?" Undrat asked.
The Terran gave a nod. "Light and medium armored fighting vehicles don't stand a chance. If a tank gives me too long, I'll rip it apart. The clankers and the dwellerspawn don't stand a chance."
"Then it is good," Undrat said. falling silent. He admired the gun's lines, how lethal it looked.
If he had that, he could keep anyone from harming the Overseer, the Tukna'rn people, or the other neo-sapients in the shelter.
The Overseer had stopped talking, turning to look at him. Undrat pointed at the heavy gun and the Terran carrying it.
"May I look at it more closely, Overseer?" Undrat asked.
"If it does not bother the Terran, you have my permission loyal one," the Overseer said. He turned back to the Terran. "They are a good people and I do not allow them to come to harm. They are loyal, work hard, and ask for little in return but what they need to survive."
"Answer his questions, Corporal," the Terran said.
"Thank you for indulging him. Curiosity from his people is not common," the Overseer said. "They are slow to act unless ordered, but ultimately a gentle and trustworthy people."
Undrat put the rest of what the Overseer was saying out of his mind as he slowly moved over to the Terran.
One always moved slowly and obviously when approaching a stranger.
"Have you had it long?" Undrat asked.
"This particular one? About a month or so," the Terran said. "Command ordered at least one heavy gunner per squad once the Dwellerspawn started spawning heavy units in greater numbers."
Undrat looked around. The vegetation looked weird to him and he realized he never really paid too much attention to the plants unless he was tending to a greenhouse or field of crops.
"What are Dwellerspawn?" he asked.
"Bioweapons from outer space," the Terran said. "They landed a month ago, we had to use atomic and biowarfare to counter them."
"Oh," Undrat said.
"Have you been in the shelter the entire time?" the Terran asked.
"Yes," Undrat said, still staring at the weapon. He could see how it operated, although he was not sure about the function of the large orbs attached to the back of each of the ammunition boxes. Perhaps more ammunition? But why store it in a round object when a rectangular box would be more efficient?
"How long?" the Terran asked.
"Five hundred twenty-three sleep cycles," Undrat said. "We will have to go to half rations soon."
The Terran nodded.
After a while the Overseer turned around and made a motion at the Tukna'rn. "Follow. We must prepare for something."
Undrat was slightly disappointed to leave the interesting looking weapon behind, but he followed the Overseer. They moved to one of the cargo loading areas for the shelter and the Overseer brought up the elevator. He ordered the Tunka'rn to rest and they waited.
After some time the Overseer waved at Undrat and his cousin Akdru to follow. They moved over to the heavy door and opened it.
Heavy blocky looking vehicles towing a heavy trailer were backed up to the door. The Overseer and the two Tukna'rn used hand motions to guide the three trucks as they backed up. When they reached a point halfway to the cargo elevator they stopped.
Terrans got out and moved to the back, lowering the ramps in the back.
Inside were boxes marked as food, medicine, clothing, toys, blankets, entertainment, and survival parts.
The boxes were thick heavy metal, the kind Undrat had only previously seen on spaceships.
One of the Terrans told the Overseer that he could have the boxes sterilized by fire or UV light, it was safe for the contents.
The Tukna'rn worked without complaint alongside the Terrans to stack the contents of the trucks onto the elevator. Once it was fully loaded, the Overseer and Undrat's father rode it down.
It was back in half an hour and Undrat was proud of his fellow Tukna'rn in the shelters for unloading the elevator so quickly.
It went on, until finally the Overseer told the Terrans that the shelter's stocks were full again.
Undrat was glad. He was tired now but did not want to show it in front of the Terrans.
When he rode the elevator down with the last load of supplies, the Overseer told them all how he was proud of them, how they had done their people, and all the people in the shelter, proud that day.
When asked how much longer that the people must stay in the shelter, the Overseer startled them all.
"Until the Terrans say it is safe. The mad lemurs of Terra fight against the planet itself as the planet was corrupted by something vile from outer space," the Overseer said. "They are winning, but it is slow. We will all be safer in the shelter."
"This is our home. Should we not fight beside the lemurs?" Undrat asked.
The Overseer looked at him. "I am proud of your willingness to fight next to the lemurs, but no, you are untrained in combat. I will not waste your life."
Undrat felt pleasure in the fact that the Overseer still considered him valuable.
So Undrat stayed in the shelter. Helping maintain it, waiting patiently for the Terrans to say it was all clear.
Less than a hundred sleep cycles passed before he was allowed to leave the shelter.
The habitation where he had lived was gone, a pile of scorched rubble now overgrown with grass and moss. The dining facility was little more than crumbled plascrete. The vast warehouses were flattened, the tarmac reduced to thick soil.
The Overseer led them to a place with thick walls. For almost a week he simply waited to be told what to do. He sat on his bunk for most days, watching the colorful programs on the vidslate he had been given, the cloth one piece clothing as comfortable as the boots.
After that the Overseer told them that they would help the Terrans.
He carried boxes, moved machinery, helped the Terrans as they kept "Refugee City Tau" working and providing comfort for everyone.
One day the Overseer came to Undrat's room that he shared with three others. The Overseer sent the other three out and sat down on a chair, folding his arms.
"Worker Undrat, while we were in the shelters you expressed a desire to fight next to the mad lemurs of Terra," the Overseer said.
"I did," Undrat said after a moment. It took him a moment to remember, but he remembered it with perfect clarity.
"Is that still true?" the Overseer asked.
Undrat sat and thought about it. The Overseer waiting patiently. Finally Undrat looked at the Overseer.
"It is."
The Overseer nodded. "The Terran Confederate Military Forces are recruiting neo-sapients like your people. You are a good solid dependable being and a hard worker. I will be pleased to refer your name to their recruiters."
"Thank you, Overseer," Undrat said, and meant it.
The Overseer left.
Two days later the Terrans came and got him. They had him take tests. Written, verbal, video. Tests of logic and math and spelling and problem solving. He answered the questions one by one if he could, if he could not, he simply moved to the next one once he realized he could not answer it. After that came the physical tests. Then tests regarding his emotional and psychological state.
Three days later the Overseer informed him that he was accepted into the Terran military and that he was to go and choose one of the many jobs he had tested for.
The Overseer urged him to be diligent in his studies when the Terrans trained him for his new job.
Undrat agreed.
A day later the Overseer came to see him off as the Terrans loaded him and others into a heavy vehicle to take them to Camp Alpha for training.
A year later, Undrat went to see the Overseer in his new uniform. The Overseer expressed pleasure in seeing him and expressed pride in Undrat at graduating from the difficult Terran military training.
He told the Overseer that he was a "Heavy Weapon Specialist" in the Terran Army now.
The Overseer urged him to be diligent and attentive to training and his duties, as the Overseer was in ensuring that the neo-sapients, the people, under his care received the highest level of comfort and necessities he could.
Another year passed. Undrat trained hard, mindful of the Overseer's words. He often wrote to his family, and the Overseer, about his training. He learned how to use many different weapons, from a simple magnetic acceleration pistol to the massive 155mm Hellbore crew served self-propelled gun. He learned to operate weapons from the doors of strikers, mounted on vehicles, or just plopped into the dirt. He learned how to call for close air support, for artillery, for orbital bombardment, for medical dustoffs.
The Overseer wrote back, praising Undrat for his diligence.
It had been two years to the day that Undrat had joined the Terran military when it happened.
The sirens went off again.
This time, the words from beyond were different.
YOU BELONG TO US
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Eldritch Chorus Fruit

Crafting:
Picture version

Netherite Scrap	Netherite Scrap	Netherite Scrap
Netherite Scrap	Chorus Fruit	Netherite Scrap
Netherite Scrap	Netherite Scrap	Netherite Scrap

Appearance:
An Eldritch Chorus Fruit has the same shape as a regular Chorus Fruit, but the purple/white color scheme is instead black/red, respectively. It also glows as if Enchanted.
Effects:
The Eldritch Chorus Fruit is a powerful food item that, when eaten, will remove all effects (including fire and even velocity) from the consumer and spawn a single, temporary End Portal Block at the location of the consumer's head.
This End Portal Block lingers for 12 seconds and teleports any entity entering it to the center of the End's Obsidian Platform, the same destination as a Stronghold's End Portal Blocks. After 12 seconds, the End Portal Block vanishes, leaving either Air, Cave Air, or Void Air in its place depending on which would be appropriate for its location.
Due to the location in which this End Portal Block spawns, the consumer of the Eldritch Chorus Fruit is always immediately sent through, since the portal appears overlapping with their head. That is, other entities can also use the portal while it lasts if they enter it, but the consumer has no choice but to be sent through.
The Eldritch Chorus Fruit also restores the same Food Points as a regular Chorus Fruit (4 points, or 2 icons), but restores 9.6 Saturation points instead of the standard 2.4, making it the hunger-restoration equivalent of a Golden Apple (4 Food Points and 9.6 Saturation points restored).
Obtaining:
The Eldritch Chorus Fruit can only be obtained in two ways:

• Crafting
  
• Very Rare loot in an End City chest (same rarity as an Enchanted Golden Apple in Desert Temples).
  

Discussion

Overview
Unlike its Overworld counterpart the Golden Apple, the Eldritch Chorus Fruit does not grant status effects, instead causing a one-off instantaneous effect when consumed. Removing all modifiers can be beneficial in a pinch, especially since unlike a Milk Bucket it includes fire and velocity in this purge. The Eldritch Chorus Fruit is a total reset, though it does nothing for one's Health Points themselves.
However, the main effect is the creation of a temporary End Portal Block that leads to the End's Obsidian Platform. This has three primary use cases.
Escape
Whether the player be surrounded by mobs, caught on fire by lava, or even falling into the Void itself, the Eldritch Chorus Fruit can get them out of that situation and into relative safety (provided the Dragon hasn't been revived and they do not look at an Enderman, at least). Since the Eldritch Chorus Fruit even removes velocity, it can save oneself from a simple fall from great height as well. It is essentially the ultimate pre-Elytra safety mechanism for the hazards in the End.
This also somewhat applies to PvP situations, but is balanced by the fact that the player's enemies can simply follow them through the lingering Portal before it closes, which takes a rather generous 12 seconds; plenty of time if they were already chasing the escapee.
However, the Eldritch Chorus Fruit has one significant disadvantage compared to other 'saves' like the Totem of Undying or an Enchanted Golden Apple: It displaces you from wherever you were and resets you back to the Obsidian Platform, meaning that whatever you were doing is essentially over. Exploring? Having to use an Eldritch Chorus Fruit resets your progress. Looting an End City? Now you have to find it again; good luck.
End Access
Since Strongholds only appear near world spawn (at least, in Java edition), it can sometimes be highly inconvenient to go back and forth from the End for players that base themselves far from said central location. Although extremely expensive (requiring enough Netherite Scrap to make two Netherite Ingots), the Eldritch Chorus Fruit offers an alternative option to access the End. One must have nonetheless accessed the End normally the first time to have a Chorus Fruit at all, so this does not break game progression.
Long-Distance Mob Transport
An expensive, niche use, the End Portal spawned by an Eldritch Chorus Fruit could also be used to teleport rare and distant mobs (Pandas, Polar Bears, Shulkers) long distances by getting up in their personal space and consuming the Eldtrich Chorus Fruit to spawn the Portal over both oneself and the mob. After that, it is just a matter of getting them into a boat and into the Exit Portal, though the risk that the mob will just yeet themselves off the platform into the abyss the moment you load in is always there.
Crafting Balance
In terms of power versus expense, I would rank the Eldritch Chorus Fruit somewhere between a Golden Apple and an Enchanted Golden Apple. This is because while both the Enchanted Golden Apple and Eldritch Chorus Fruit are ultimate 'save' mechanics almost on par with a Totem of Undying, an Eldritch Chorus Fruit is purely for retreat, putting a stop to whatever one was doing before using it (as it teleports the user to the Obsidian Platform in the End every time). By contrast, an Enchanted Golden Apple makes one extremely powerful and allows one to continue with what they were doing, be that fighting off mobs in survival or players in PvP.
As such, the Eldritch Chorus Fruit is far more expensive to make than a Golden Apple (requiring enough Netherite Scrap to craft not one but two Netherite Ingots), but it can be crafted, unlike an Enchanted Golden Apple.
Summary
All in all, the 'escape' function is obviously the main draw, notably being the only viable method to save oneself after falling into the Void prior to Elytra. However, the 'End access' and 'transport' uses are both areas where the game could benefit from a new mechanic similar to this one; the Eldritch Chorus Fruit meets a need currently not addressed in both respects.
What do you think? Thank you for your time and feedback!

Since I am copy-pasting this so much I'll just add it to the post:

I've used Netherite for: Full Armor, 2 Pickaxes (one Silk, one Fortune), 2 Shovels (same), 1 Axe, 1 Sword, and 3 Lodestones, for 13 total. They all have Mending. Do you know what that means?
That means I'll never need another Netherite Scrap again.
As such, yeah, I could totally see making Eldritch Chorus Fruit, in the same way I use Diamonds for Fireworks nowadays. What else will I use Scrap for? Making my little brother a set? He can farm his own rofl
Besides, even if Netherite Scrap wasn't useless after you get your full Mending setup going, I think the Fruit has a niche among the Totem and Apple.
If you fall into Lava with 4 Skeletons shooting at you and eat an Enchanted Golden Apple, congrats, you're still slowly wading in lava with mobs shooting at you and probably more on the way, creepers in included. Eating an Eldritch Chorus Fruit instead removes you from the situation entirely.
It is a matter of assurance; peace of mind. Where a Totem or Gapple empowers you to escape your current situation, an Eldritch Chorus Fruit straight-up rescues you entirely. Eat a Gapple or burn a Totem and you are still in danger and must work your way out, while eating an Eldritch Chorus Fruit lets you sink back into your chair and sigh in relief as the End loading screen peacefully displays on your monitor.
That is,

• Use a Totem of Undying when you aren't expecting death and need something you don't have to manually trigger
  
• Use an Enchanted Golden Apple when you want to man up on and/or push through whatever the situation is
  
• Use an Eldritch Chorus Fruit when you want to just GTFO right this moment lol
  

Burned alive and buried alive, the two worst fates for any living creature that I could ever possibly imagine. If forced with the choice, which would you pick? Unbearable physical agony, or extreme mental torture? The most excruciating pain imaginable, or the utmost form of horror that the human mind is capable of conceiving? Up to a few years ago, I didn't know either. Why would you even consider it if not forced to? Well, one day I found out which I'd choose. One day so dreadful that there's no adjective in the English language strong enough to properly convey the horror of it; a day so awful that I struggle just to recall it, I had the choice put upon me. Here is what happened:
Years ago, I bought my first home. Being an overall fan of the macabre and, living in rural New England, I decided on a nearly ancient American Colonial style home. Reminiscent of something out of a Nathaniel Hawthorne or Arthur Miller story, it was the product of a bygone era. Though it was built in the early 1800s, as the cliche goes, it had good bones, and had been fairly well maintained considering it’s age. That being said, it still needed some work.
A few weeks after closing, while fixing some of the faulty old wiring in the basement, I came across a centuries old drain set into the stone flooring. It was maybe three feet in diameter and covered with a heavy iron grate that was worn with many decades worth of rough, brown corrosion. It resembled the entrance to a dungeon.
Like I mentioned above, I have a curiosity for all the dark and morbid elements of the world. Finds like this were the exact reason I wanted this house! So I decided to have a closer look at the forgotten thing. I laced my fingers through the dirty old grate and gave it a firm pull. It opened with a pained and rusty cry. I gazed down into the hole. A faint, acrid stink arose from its depths. It was as dry as old bone and quiet as a crypt. I assumed, due to the home’s location on the side of a small hill, that the basement had once been prone to flooding, and that modern technological developments had rendered that, like so many other things in this place, a relic of the past. I poked my head a little farther in and looked into the deep, dark recesses of the ancient plumbing. I could make out just the faintest bit of light at the far end. I went out into the yard and found the outlet hidden deep in a thicket of tangled brush. Evidently lacking access to chicken mesh, someone had covered it with a makeshift criss-crossing of merciless looking barbed wire, apparently to keep any unwanted creatures from crawling in during the night. I thought that whomever had done so had made a smart choice. The pipe looked nearly big enough for a person to squeeze through.
A few months later, I was back working in the basement. The previous owner had left boxes upon boxes of yellowed old newspapers, books and other forms of aged literature stacked under the stairs. I wanted to move out what I could as they were taking up a lot of valuable storage space and were a possible fire hazard, especially under the dry, splintery wood of the basement risers. Honestly though, I really wanted to look through them to see what sort of curious old volumes might be hidden within the dusty mound.
About thirty minutes into my task, I had sifted through and moved about five of the boxes without finding anything of much interest. In the sixth box, however, I came upon a strange volume bound in worn leather that looked like it must be older than the house itself. It had the words Kitab al Kanuz embossed on the cover and was written in what appeared to be Arabic, though I'm no linguist. There were English translations or notes of some sort written in the margins. They seemed to say something about the locations of lost and hidden treasures. This was exactly the kind of thing I was looking for! Excited by my find, I moved out from under the stairs in search of better lighting to read it by. I went over to a large flood light I had left in the basement from a previous project and flicked it on. The decrepit wiring running under the stairs sparked violently.
I spun quickly and, in doing so, tripped and fell backward. By the time I got up, the sparks had already lit a fire in the stack of boxes that stood nearly a meter high. It was licking and biting at the withered stairs like the jaws of a hungry animal. In hindsight, at this very moment, I should have sprinted through the flames to safety. Whatever burns I would have suffered would have paled in comparison the trauma I was doomed to endure by staying put. But, like they say, hindsight is 20/20. Instead, I sat frozen in shock of the sight in front of me. When I snapped out of it, I looked around frantically for any sign of something to douse the flames with, but of course there was nothing. Nobody thinks to keep a fire extinguisher in their basement.
The blaze rose higher, engulfing the staircase and spreading around the door jamb at the top like some type of hellish decoration. I tried desperately to hold back panic and think of a way out. My basement had no windows and no hatchway either.
Then the fire spread to the exposed fiberglass insulation in the ceiling. It jumped from section to section like a stone skipping across a pond. The air became thick with the baking heat. The sound of the flames crackling was now constant and unrelenting. Smoke was filling up the already close air, curling and twisting through the space. Every breath I took tasted of hot ash.
I finally decided my only hope was to sprint up the stairs through the inferno and pray my injuries weren't life threatening. Thoughts of pink, stinging burns, blisters, wet peeling flesh and skin grafts flashed through my mind. I hesitated. I tried to steel my nerves against it all. Then the staircase collapsed.
I drew back against the concrete wall behind me, hoping for respite from the sudden gust of fiery air that followed. It didn't help. It was like standing too close to a bonfire, but with no way to back up.
I looked up at the doorway. The threshold was 15 feet up and surrounded by flame. I moved away along the wall, desperately searching for any relief from the heat and smoke. Everything was on fire now. I could barely see. My eyes burned and every breath choked my lungs. I was beginning to feel light-headed and nauseous. I was going to die down here, asphyxiated and burned alive. I prayed to God to feel as little as possible.
I got down on my stomach hoping to delay the inevitable. My hands felt cold metal on the floor. I heard it grind and shift with my movement. My fingers slipped through elongated holes. I was lying on top of the drain.
My heart jumped and then immediately dropped to the pit of my stomach. I had a way out, but it meant squeezing through hundreds of feet of suffocating underground tunnel.
I pulled it open and it gave that same rusty cry as before. I put my head inside. The air felt cool and fresh compared to the basement. I looked at the spec of light way down in the darkness. It looked miles away. I tried pushing myself inside. My shoulders pressed against the sides of the drain, pinning my arms tightly to my sides. Claustrophobia hit me like an electric shock. I scrambled back up immediately.
I couldn't do this. It was so narrow. I would get stuck in the pipe and slowly die in there, deep under the earth. I sobbed and cried out in utter despair.
The fire was closing in around me. I could barely breath anymore. The heat was like being in an oven. Like baking to death. I felt flames lick at my back and I jumped forward. Fire burnt the skin of my face. I pulled back. I had nowhere left to go. Without stopping to think any further, I shoved my body headlong into the hole.
I wriggled in like a worm, the flames burning at my feet and legs giving me the dearly needed motivation to move forward. My arms were pinned to my sides again. Because of the "L" shape of the drain I had to go in upside down. It was like being trapped in a coffin. It was like being stuck in a cave miles below the earth's surface. Dread and anxiety like I've never felt before consumed me.
I wriggled and squirmed and kicked. I moved mere centimeters with each desperate effort. The sides of the pipe clenched around me like a fist. Every move felt like it would wedge me hopelessly in the pipe. In my position, I couldn't even see where I was going. I had no idea how much progress I was making. If I was even getting closer to the opening. The darkness was total.
I sobbed and screamed and squirmed further, scraping my skin on the rough sides of the dried up old pipe. My mind was pure panic now. I pushed with my legs all I could, but I only had room to lift my knees a few inches. I struggled wildly to keep moving, the sides of the cylinder grinding against my shoulders and hips. My manic breathing and hopeless cries echoed deafeningly in the pipe.
Then I came to a rise. I could feel it like a ridge under my back. The build up of centuries of rock hard mineral deposits created a stalagmite like formation underneath me that gradually rose up the sides of the passage. I kept pushing and squirming as feverishly as ever until I felt my shoulders squeeze right up against my neck. I kicked and I twisted and I yelled, but I could not move. I was pinned within the jagged ridge. There wasn't room to move forward and I had no way to back up. I was stuck. Completely and totally stuck. I thrashed my legs and jerked my torso violently. I whipped my head around and cried out like an animal in a trap, banging my forehead against the top of the pipe and scraping the skin off. Still my body wouldn't move.
I cried and I screamed until I was exhausted. Then I cried and screamed even more. I began to fade in and out. I dreamt that I saw the faces of the dead climbing out of the earth above me. I heard the voices of demons in my ears chanting and laughing at me in strange languages. I could feel the pipe squeezing and tightening and relaxing just to play with me. The world spun uncontrollably at times, making me dizzy and sick. Other times I floated paralyzed through the void. My thoughts whirled violently round my brain like mad, biting flies. My head felt like an oven with my brain baking inside. The salt of my tears burned my dried up eyes. I was going to die in here. Alone. Stuck. Unable to move.
I completely lost my sanity during those hours. My consciousness turned to a soup of constantly churning, manic thought with nothing resembling rational or ordered cognitive activity remaining. Consequently, it was my wild, animalistic screams that finally alerted the firefighters to my whereabouts deep within the pipe.
They had to wait until the fire had died down before they could call in an excavator. Eventually, the heavy machine became too risky, as it could easily have collapsed the decaying old tube, burying me within. So they set to work digging it up with shovels. After they moved enough earth to expose the pipe, they had to cut out the section I was entombed in with a large saw. I know people were speaking to me during this time, trying in vain to keep me calm, but all I remember is the deafening, metallic shrieking that echoed through the pipe, stabbing at my eardrums like ice picks.
Once freed from the rest of the conduit, they lifted the section that held me out of the ground with a small crane and set it down in the yard. I vaguely remember another floating sensation. I had hoped I had died.
Soon they went to back to work with smaller, yet barely less hideous sounding saws. It was night at this point, so I didn't even get the miniscule benefit of daylight to ease the suffering. Other than the noise, it felt no different than when I first crawled in.
Finally, it felt as if a great weight was lifted from all sides of me. My body seemed to expand in all directions. Cool night air brushed across my skin. I was lifted up and carried away.
This, like I said, was years ago. I am just now regaining the sanity needed to be able to process these events and write them down. My therapist tells me it's a good idea. That it will help me get past the event to whatever degree possible. He says it may help with the night terrors too. I can barely sleep without teleporting right back into that suffocating space. The other patients in the hospital are used to my nightly screaming by now. So are the nurses and orderlies. It was they who gave me the details of my rescue. They tell me I was stuck in that pipe for nearly ten hours before the rescuers got me out. They also tell me that crawling into it was the only reason I survived. The house was nothing but a pile of ashes after the fire and, because of its subterranean location, very little heat or smoke got into that awful drain.
So, in the end, that nightmare is the reason I'm alive and able to write this. Though, if I could go back to that day, to that moment standing above the ancient grate, surrounded by roaring flame, I'm not sure I'd make the same decision again. I may let the flames take me. I may let myself burn alive.

Happy Lunar New Year's eve to all my readers who are celebrating and feasting! Some notes for clarity on today's post...
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Q: What is this story?
A: This is a spinoff that I have been dabbling around with for the last few months on and off, based on the events of a commission from last January: The First Juggernaut
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Q: Why haven't I seen this story before if the 4th chapter is releasing today?
A: This story falls under the category of "one shots", which is content made available, at least initially, only to certain subscribers of my patreon. I am making prior chapters available to everyone today both on my patreon and below.
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Q: I am a patron, where can I read the latest installment in the untitled goose snake saga?
A: I will be posting it to patreon shortly after finishing this post and I will link it at the bottom of this chapter.
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Q: I am a patron, why can't I read the latest chapter?
A: Latest installment is available to anyone supporting me to the tune of $10/month or greater. As with the prior chapters, chapter 4 will eventually be released to the public.
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Q: Is this considered canon for HEL Jumper purposes?
A: Yes, unless something explicitly conflicts with the HEL Jumper in which case I made an oopsie.
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Q: Who is Drake and what is this snake of which you speak?
A: Read on to find out!
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Chapter 1
September 17th 2035, Human Dreadnought HMV Resplendent Dawn, Shuttle Bay
“Mr. Thane! Good of you to join us here in Udanis. How was your journey? Uneventful I hope,” the incredibly tall, dark-skinned man called out across the cavernous metal room. Delta Division shuttles could be seen darting in and out of the space almost constantly, ferrying goods and personnel between the dreadnoughts, cruisers, destroyers, and support ships that currently made up humanity’s presence in what was, effectively, a star-system wide DMZ declared by the Ghaelen and enforced by humans. Unable to stomach the reality of warfare in hostile conditions against even more hostile foes, the ‘space elk’ presence had long since fled the system. Taking his bearings, the stockier, tanned individual with unkempt black hair and a civilian’s uniform nodded to the approaching figure.
“I’m afraid you have me at a disadvantage, Rear Admiral. Until just now I didn’t even know the identity of my destination. Though I understand the need for secrecy now that I’m here. Drake Thane, it’s a pleasure.” The two men engaged in a firm handshake, the squeeze of the palm a tried and true test of such men. Beta Division did not have many Admirals, and Udanis did not have many civilians.
“You’ll have to forgive Admiral Freidrich, but our resident Juggernaut seems to be giving him the runaround again. Victory will go to a young woman’s head though, won’t it?” the taller man laughed. “I am Rear Admiral Natori Kaczynski, at your service. And yes, that is a Beta Division insignia. Though perhaps you might be able to appreciate such a thing? After all, Delta called you out here too, didn’t they?”
“With all due respect Rear Admiral, I don’t even know why I’m here,” Thane replied. “Only that the pay is better than the FBI was offering.”
“Mmm, significantly better I’d suspect. The HEL does have its means,” Natori agreed. “Right this way then, Mr. Thane. Perhaps you’ll understand better once you’re brought up to speed. Ah, how rude of me!” the Rear Admiral suddenly exclaimed as though set upon by a novel idea. “Can I get you something to eat or drink?”
“I indulged in a ‘final meal’ on the transport, sir. But thank you,” Drake replied. Natori cast a knowing smile his way.
“Very good then. I see you packed light so let’s head to the nearest briefing room then. Mary?”
‘How may I be of assistance, Rear Admiral Kaczynski?’ the ship’s VI requested.
“Has a briefing room been set aside for Mr. Thane’s arrival?”
‘Yes sir, forwarding the location to you now.’
“Useful little tool, isn’t she?” Natori asked as he turned on his heel and led Drake straight in the opposite direction down the corridor.
“I’m only familiar with the civilian models, sir. The US government hasn’t gotten around to upgrading its systems yet.”
“Surprising absolutely no one, but perhaps we should be thankful,” Kaczynski suggested as he turned a corner and carried on, saluting various soldiers and support personnel as they moved at a leisurely pace. “Were it not for the bureaucratic incompetence of Terran governments, who would want to join the HEL?”
“That’s one way of looking at it, I suppose,” Thane agreed. “And while it may not be my place Rear Admiral, isn’t playing escort below your station?”
Natori looked him over with an appraising eye. “How tactful, but such is to be expected from a crisis negotiator I suppose. Allow me to assure you, Mr. Thane, the current situation is very much the concern of men like me.”
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Over the next couple hours, seated across a polished wooden table from one another, Natori reviewed with Drake the timeline of the pacification of Udanis IV, from the discovery of life in the system in early 2035, to first contact, and eventual full blown war by the end of May of the same year. The conflict had ended on June 6th, with the first truly successful battlefield deployment of Beta and Delta division’s latest collaboration, the Juggernaut program.
“So you brought me here to deal with Lieutenant Lavinaga, sir? Was it something about the, what did you call it, Queen’s nest operation? How many of those… stimulants is she still on?”
“No and yes. Fortunately, Lieutenant Lavinaga is quite well,” Natori replied, reaching for the pitcher of water and glasses in the middle of the table. He unhurriedly poured for them both, and the two men paused to soothe their throats. “While it is true that you were brought here to negotiate with veterans of this conflict… perhaps it’s better that I show you. This way please,” the Rear Admiral proposed, leading Drake on a short walk that nevertheless felt like a mile. The Marines and other combat personnel he’d seen up to that point appeared to be in high spirits, already swapping stories about gallantry during the operation while reminiscing fondly about the fallen. Maybe years later they might need someone like him, but not then and not there.
Eventually they arrived at their destination, given away by the fact that Natori was required to provide biometric identification in two forms as well as enter a combination PIN to pass through a set of imposing steel bulkheads. Drake recognized the area immediately as an interrogation facility, with the Rear Admiral escorting him all the way to the back. It was a cell constructed for long term confinement, and the two men found themselves alone in front of what Drake was sure was a one way mirror. The only other humans in the area were the Marine guards stationed back at the entrance. It didn’t help his nerves that they were in full armor intended for combat in hazardous environments. “Who’s on the other side of that wall, Rear Admiral?”
“Not who, Mr. Thane,” Natori corrected with an unsettling fire in his eyes. “But what.”
With the flick of a switch light suddenly poured through the opening, allowing Thane to see the interior of the spacious but barren room. “Jesus fucking Christ!” he whispered. “Are you mad, Rear Admiral?”
“Quite, Mr. Thane. But so are most who labor for the advancement of humanity. I daresay if you accept this job you’ll be rather similar.”
“I speak Farsi and Arabic, Rear Admiral. I deal with veterans of the Middle Eastern conflicts. What in God’s good name do you expect me to do with a Gorgon?!”
“An excellent question!” Natori agreed. “For starters I’d like you to see if you could bring us to the point where she does not spit acid at anything that moves. The fact that they store them in the approximate location of human mammary glands lost its humor… rather quickly.”
Drake swallowed heavily and took a closer look at the alien. Its entire body screamed danger to him. Natural rock-like armor covered its entire, serpentine form, which took after the Nagas or Lamias of human mythology. Her yellowish-green skin was the same color as the acidic environments of her homeworld, and her whiplike tail seemed to be constantly searching for something to coil around, or perhaps lash out at like a flail. “How long has she been here?”
“Since June 7th, Mr. Thane.”
“It’s been more than three months? Rear Admiral, surely this is in violation of… something!”
Natori licked his lips and hung his head. “This is why we sent for you, Mr. Thane. We have tried everything, and I mean everything, to establish some sort of diplomatic relationship, or even communication. She eats heartily and tries to kill us whenever she can. She is one of the only survivors of the Queen’s nest, and we believe that such authority will be key in any sort of eventual alliance.”
“You really are mad,” Thane whispered as Natori placed his hands behind his back and looked at the Gorgon.
“Am I mad for seeking powerful allies for our species, Mr. Thane? The Ghaelen possess powerful technology, but the price of its acquisition was steep. We will only bring ruin to ourselves if ‘galactic policeman’ is to be our role. Let our own country’s history be an example on that matter. No, one day we will come across a challenge we cannot surmount alone. I would much prefer it if the acid spitting snake women were on our side in that event, Mr. Thane. After coming this far, I hope you’ll at least humor me.”
“And Admiral Freidrich, sir?”
Natori met Drake’s eyes. “Approved this operation personally, Mr. Thane.”
The crisis negotiator breathed deeply and ran a hand through his mop of hair. “Just… how many people have died before me?”
“None, Mr. Thane! And I have no intention of making you the first.” The civilian shot Natori a dubious look that obviously conveyed his opinion on that particular statement. “Yes well, there were a couple of men who needed emergency medical treatment and reconstructive surgery, but we have equipment that is rather resistant to Gorgon acid thanks to their sacrifices, among many others. Shall I fetch one for you?”
“With all due respect, Rear Admiral-”
“Ah, you know what they say about that little lead in,” Natori chuckled, the casual hand on his hip indicating he fully understood why Drake had afforded him his ‘due respect’.
“Then you’ll have to consider the month-long journey to be my gesture of good faith. I’d like to see everything you have on the Gorgons, ideally in printed form. And yes, that includes the classified bits. I’ll sign whatever NDA’s you deem reasonable. And a cup of coffee… maybe two. You can keep your acid-resistant suits for now. I don’t think she’s going anywhere.”
After a moment of consideration, Natori offered Drake his hand again. They shook. “I appreciate your consideration, Mr. Thane. I will oversee the preparation of said documents, as well as the necessary security clearances. In the meantime you are free to observe our captive, though might I suggest taking a pitstop in your cabin first?”
“You’re the type to get mixed up in the affairs of his subordinates, aren’t you, Rear Admiral?” Thane ventured cautiously. Natori’s smile was different somehow that time, almost unsettlingly so.
“Perhaps your keen eye will succeed where I have failed, Mr. Thane? We will be in touch and Mary is, of course, at your disposal. Welcome to the Resplendent Dawn,” Kaczynski finished, turning quickly on his heel and departing, saluting the Marine door guards as he left.
“Apparently he’s also one to leave civilians alone with alien captives,” Drake muttered, looking down at the control panel for the one way glass. Left there was a post-it note, a vintage technology that still found itself in use even in the era of shield generators, FTL travel, and VI’s.
Don’t activate the two way functionality. We’re running low on materials to manufacture more polarized glass.
Thane chuckled in disbelief and ran a hand over his face, captivated momentarily by the holes he could see in the alien’s forearms, a natural biological gap between the Gorgon analogs of the radius and ulna. At least he assumed she had bones. “What have I gotten myself into?”
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As it turned out, the answer to that question was a bit more complex than one on one prisoner or hostage negotiation, something that became readily apparent after an hour or so of reading in front of the alien’s cell. The coffee was surprisingly adequate, as was the insulated mug that kept it warm as he labored. He would glance up on occasion to observe his subject, not wanting to fully depend on unreliable witness testimony, more reliable autopsy reports, combat records, and the gruesome video feeds from the suit of one Lieutenant Lanvinaga. If Kaczynski’s tale was true, and he had no grounds to assert it wasn’t, the alien before him had not only retained the will to live after more than three months in solitary, she also retained the desire to kill and fight. She was sane and hostile. That was more than could be said for some of the veterans he’d talked down in the past.
“Or failed to talk down,” Drake allowed with a mutter, shaking his head. Movement caught his eye and he refocused on the alien, watching as she curled up on herself only to adjust and re-adjust, picking at the rock-like armor that seemed to grow from her very body. Scratching his head, the human consulted several images that he would have rather not dealt with, various post-mortem shots of Gorgons that had been killed during the pacification. Very few sported natural armor to the level of his subject, but not because she was some sort of unique specimen. Near as he could tell the Gorgon before him was quite typical for her species, but her natural armor was jagged and reminded him of a volcanic rock field. Much of his reference material depicted Gorgons with relatively smooth plating that rested underneath manufactured metallic armor. “It’s worth a shot,” Than shrugged, noting that it was 21:00 shipboard time. “Mary, is Rear Admiral Kaczynski still awake?”
‘Good evening Mr. Drake Thane,’ came Mary’s synthesized but pleasant enough voice. ‘The Rear Admiral has retired for the evening. Are you experiencing an emergency?’
“No no, nothing like that,” Thane clarified quickly. “I’ll just leave him a message then.”
‘Very well, you may begin recording when ready.’
“Rear Admiral, this is Drake Thane. In the morning I’d appreciate it if you could track down a couple of rocks and an industrial sander for me. I have an idea.”
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“I believe I’ve waited long enough to sate my curiosity?” Natori stated as he watched Drake sanding down one surface of the chunks of Udanian crust he’d been given.
“Fair enough. How familiar are you with the anatomy of beavers, Rear Admiral?”
“How familiar are you with the anatomy of beavers?” Natori barked with laughter. “Oh I definitely picked the right man for this job.”
“Save that for when I actually get somewhere, sir. The answer, I suppose, is that I’m familiar enough to know that beavers don’t just cut down trees to build themselves shelter. Left alone long enough without anything to gnaw on their teeth will continue to grow and grow, injuring or even leading to the death of the animal. These Gorgon appear to possess the same quality when it comes to their natural armor,” Thane postulated. Natori’s eyes lit up.
“You propose a gift?”
“I hope you don’t mind the loss of a belt sander,” Drake said shortly.
“Let’s not wait then. Her first meal of the day is scheduled around this time.”
“Good enough for me. Where’s this suit, the one that will stop me from getting my face melted off?”
“Storage locker on the left. We haven’t personally delivered anything for some time, so be prepared for resistance,” Kaczynski warned. “She seems to consider eating her meal off the floor worth the chance at an attack.”
“Duly noted,” Drake replied in a tense voice, finding a heavily fortified hazardous environment suit that would have looked more at home on a space walk where the Admiral indicated. A short time later, sweat beading on his brow, he unlocked the door to the Gorgon’s cell. The moment he entered, the alien puffed out her chest and spat a stream of sickly green acid from her mouth. Though the attack was exemplary in its aim and velocity, that also made it relatively easy to dodge if one was willing to simply drop to the floor. Well protected as he was, Drake did just that, squashing whatever manufactured nutrient cubes had been intended for her. In return, he chucked the first rock at her, earning a momentary reprieve as the alien tried to process the fact that one of the legged beings keeping her hostage had thrown a rock at her. It was enough time for him to roll the second one to the base of her body, a couple feet below where her torso met her tail, which carried on behind her for a good six feet or so. The fact that the second rock was ‘presented’ instead of ‘chucked’ was not lost on the alien, but that didn’t prevent her from compressing the venom sacks in her chest again.
“Oh for the love of-” Thane cursed, retreating out the door as the second biological attack splattered onto the surface just behind him. To his amazement, Natori was applauding even as two Marines rushed at him with decontamination equipment.
“A magnificent swan dive if I’ve ever seen one, Mr. Thane! And before you believe I’m having a laugh at your expense, come look at what our guest is already up to.”
At Natori’s insistence Thane shucked the enviro-suit as quickly as he could and returned to the one-way mirror. There, he could see the Gorgon ignoring her smushed breakfast entirely. After a brief contemplation of the rocks that had been given to her, she began banging at her own body with one of them, chipping off pointy bits of rock that clearly agitated her. At least Drake considered it could be fully fledged rock; he had no idea if aliens producing natural rock armor atop their own dermis was reasonable. Whatever it was, it was certainly tougher than keratin. The Rear Admiral ran a hand over his short, close cropped hair. “I would certainly call this progress, Mr. Thane. What is your next step?”
“To see if I can get her to look at a human for longer than a second without trying to dissolve him,” he replied tersely. “Do you have more of those rocks?”
Natori cocked a brow his way. “Mr. Thane, this is a Delta Division Liberation-class dreadnought. We have plenty of rocks.”
Chapter 2
“You have got to be fucking kidding me,” Drake Thane cursed, hauling himself to his feet after another harrowing trip into the Gorgon’s cell. She had accepted his gift of rocks, but had not made any sort of connection between the smooth and jagged varieties, instead using both to chip away at and then grind down the excess armor growing from her skin. That was how she spent most of her days when not eating or attempting to fight anyone who entered her enclosure. He had only been aboard the Resplendent Dawn for forty eight hours, but he’d read more than enough to make it clear that the Gorgon’s were highly intelligent and capable of advanced battlefield tactics. Humanity’s swift victory was primarily a technological feat, not a tactical one.
“Which leaves pride, an absurd amount of pride,” he muttered, debating whether to remove the helmet from his head and return to study or attempt something new. Exactly what, he did not know. Not willing to throw his life away or test the durability of the hazardous environment suit further, he began removing it in a process that took several minutes and assistance from one of the Marine sentries on duty. “Thank you. Let’s leave it out for now. I might try again later today.”
“As you say, Mr. Thane,” the Marine replied. “Not sure what you could do though. Nothing gets through to them.”
“Something will,” Drake insisted. “But I understand where you’re coming from.”
“Shall I inform the Admiral of this morning’s result?” the soldier asked
“No need. It’s status quo for now,” he said, heading back to the table that had become his workstation and opening up a portable computer he’d been provided with to review the various multimedia files that humanity possessed on the Gorgons. Ongoing attempts at communicating with the planetside populace had borne no fruit, with the various kingdoms going to ground the moment anyone tried to make contact. He had already checked once, but he double checked to make sure there were no records of torture, starvation, or unusual punishment of his current subject. He doubted they would have actually been logged, but there was continuity in the timetable. That was enough for him.
“How long can you keep this up?” he wondered of his new adversary. It was practically against the code of his profession to consider an interlocutor an enemy, but given that she had attempted to dissolve him without fail every time he stuck his nose in the door, he was willing to make an exception. “Yeah, don’t remind me. The answer is at least a couple months. At least the coffee’s still hot.”
Caffeine in hand, Thane instead opened up various combat records. He did his best to avoid the more gruesome ones, but a few caught his interest. There were several instances where gear had been retrieved and the combat logs analyzed to discover that the deceased had been engaged in one on one combat by individual Gorons, sometimes in the presence of entire enemy units. “Dear Lord in heaven,” he muttered. “They’re going to make a movie out of this, if it’s even declassified.”
The ‘this’ in question was a helmet recording from a Marine private who had been surrounded by an enemy platoon. With no ammunition remaining, he had fixed his bayonet and stood to face his death with courage. Instead of immediately spitting acid at him or ganging up on him, one of the Gorgons had stepped, or was it slithered, forward. After a long moment that took Thane’s breath away, the Marine realized that the spear-wielding, armored alien was challenging him to something of a duel. Most remarkable was what happened when the Marine proved victorious, ramming his bayonet into a gap between the alien’s armor and bringing her down in a writhing mass of rock and flesh after several minutes of testing each other. The remaining enemies retreated, and the victorious Marine had survived the hostile environment of Udanis IV long enough to call for backup.
“Only problem is I doubt I could land a hit on her to save my life, even if she’s unarmed and unarmored… well, no extra armor,” he mused. The idea of asking another to fight in his stead was equally unpalatable, especially since he wasn’t sure the Gorgon would submit to anything short of death. “This is getting me nowhere.”
Recognizing his own limits, Drake sorted his affairs and left the interrogation bloc, wandering around the ship and letting his mind drift until he drifted right into an imposing blonde soldier whose rolled up sleeves revealed several mechanical interface points embedded in her arms. “Who the hell are you?” she demanded.
“Drake Thane, crisis negotiator. I’m here at the request of Admiral Freidrich and Rear Admiral Kaczynski. It’s an honor to meet you, Lieutenant Lavinaga.”
“Christ, is it that fucking obvious?” she asked, glancing down at her arms. “Guess it is. You lost, Thane?”
“Physically? No. But maybe you can help me? I’ve got a bit of a Gorgon problem,” he admitted.
“The survivor? Should just space her if you ask me,” Lavinaga said dismissively. “Assuming you want that thing alive I’m not your woman.”
“And what if I want someone to go in there and wear her down so I can actually attempt to communicate with her and not get a face full of acid?”
“And I thought I was insane,” she laughed.
“It’s my job at the moment,” he shrugged.
“Would I get to wear my armor?”
“Of course. Don’t see how else you’d survive. You're still mostly flesh and blood.”
“I’m going to let that insult pass cause it’s been way too long. She’s in the interrogation cells, right? Meet you there in a few.”
“I actually don’t have approval for this yet,” he admitted. “I just had the idea when I ran into you.”
“Well you don’t worry your little head about that, Drake,” she simpered, clapping a hand down on his shoulder so hard he thought his collarbone might fracture. “You let me handle those Admirals.”
-----
Drake didn’t want to know how Lavinaga had gotten permission, but true to her word she appeared in her full star spangled glory about an hour after leaving him in one of the Resplendent Dawn’s many corridors. The hum of the ship and overhead lighting was drowned out by the heavy footfalls and hissing hydraulics of her suit. When she reached his side, the visor of her helmet slid open.
“You have no idea how awful this feels,” she said affectionately. “So, what do you need me and Ares to do?”
“I don’t really know. Just wear her down enough that I can show her how this works without dying,” he suggested, holding up the portable belt sander he’d used to smooth over a few rocks that were now the sole possessions of the Gorgon. Lavinaga just shook her head.
“If that’s what you want. Should be fun. I wonder how long she can go,” Lavinaga said with a bit too much anticipation in her voice. “Well, enough standing around! Let’s go see if she remembers me.”
Drake readied himself at the observation port as Lavinaga hefted her enormous shield and casually threw open the door to the cell. “Sup bitch? Long time no see!”
Thane watched, horrified, as the Gorgon assaulted the Juggernaut with a zeal and fury that she had never shown him. Her venom sacs were depleted within seconds, only scratching the paint of the wall of metal that made up Lavinaga’s shield. She threw what rocks she had and slammed her tail against the hulking monstrosity to no avail, the borderline psychotic laughter of Lavinaga her only reward for her efforts. Sweat dripped from Drake’s brow as his thesis slowly proved itself correct and the Gorgon’s blows slowly weakened and became lethargic. The juggernaut drove the point home by casually pushing her to the ground after about half an hour. “Now why don’t you just get comfortable down there? You’re lucky someone other than me is running the shots or I’d be testing my boot against your skull,” she warned.
“Lieutenant please, we don't know how much of our language she understands,” Drake said over the intercom. “Thank you for your restraint. I’ll be right in.”
On account of the mobile metal wall that stood between him and the broken alien, Drake steadied himself and managed to summon enough courage to enter the area without any protection other than the jeans and shirt he was wearing. In his hands were two stones and the sander. The Gorgon watched his every move, her acid green eyes still alert even as her body failed her. With no acid left to spit, she bore witness to him demonstrating the ability of the sander to grind down and polish rock. He didn’t belabor the point. Instead setting the tool down a couple feet from her. “I want to talk,” he said before turning to leave with the juggernaut. “Lieutenant, whenever you’re ready.”
“You eggheads think up the craziest things,” Lavinaga shrugged. “Am I allowed to taunt it again?”
“Please don’t.”
“Fine, but only because you’re handsome,” she insisted when they were safely outside. “Oh, also you owe me a few beers on account of the time I’m about to spend in the armory. See ya, Thane.”
Drake was so struck by her antics he barely had time to rush back into the cell when he was the Gorgon lifting the tool he’d left her to the one place on her body she had no armor, her neck. “Stop!” he roared, snatching it from her grasp before leaping back several feet as his brain finally caught up with what his body had done. “Why? You’ve been trying to kill us all for months!”
The alien’s eyes were narrow and downcast, and bits of her natural armor littered the cell where they’d been broken against the unyielding armor of Lavinaga’s suit. Small areas of her body were discolored, a deeper green than the rest. He could only assume bruising. “Maybe I am fucking insane,” Drake admitted, walking forward and turning the sander back on. “I didn’t defeat you, so I’m not going to be the one who kills you.”
The Gorgon hissed violently at him, but was unable to physically harm or stop him from grinding down and polishing one of her shoulders. With no other recourse, she simply refused to look at him instead. When Drake left, he took the sander and every rock with him, not wanting to leave her anything that might be used as a tool for suicide. As soon as the door to the cell closed, his legs gave way and he collapsed to the floor, feeling only the racing of his heart and the damp cling of his sweat-soaked clothing to his body. He did not return to the interrogation blocks that day.
-----
“You wanted to see me, Rear Admiral?”
“Yes indeed, Mr. Thane. I daresay you did something, I’m just not sure that something was good,” Natori explained as Drake entered the interrogation wing the next day, having spent more time than necessary grooming and feeding himself. His mind weighed heavily with the pain he’d inflicted upon his charge. The language of the Gorgons remained an inscrutable mess of low pitched hissing and other sounds, but hopelessness was a universal concept. It seemed that their captive was finally allowing that darkness to permeate her mind and influence her actions. Per Kaczynski’s report, gone were the consistent attacks against those bringing her food as well as efforts to eat it. “I am not usually one for threats, Mr. Thane, and I don’t precisely intend this to be one but I know you’ll likely interpret it as such. We cannot afford to lose her. Her potential is too great.”
“I understand, sir. I’ll head in right away,” Thane replied, acknowledging the Admiral’s concern. Instead of stopping by the locker containing his protective gear, he instead grabbed his coffee and walked straight to the cell door. Natori held out a hand but remained silent.
“Well I suppose I did threaten him,” he mused, nevertheless ensuring his sidearm was loaded, a round chambered, and the safety off. Precautions in place, Kaczynski settled in to observe what he was sure, one way or another, would be an eventful ‘session’ with the prisoner. To his most welcome surprise, Drake Thane managed to enter the cell and stand just past the threshold for several moments without getting attacked, dissolved, or impaled. The man took a long draught of his coffee before jerking his head upward in a moment of recollection. The Gorgon watched him all the while, almost unblinkingly, as he left the drink on her untouched breakfast tray and retreated to retrieve the portable sanding device he’d used on her the prior afternoon. He paused to speak with the Rear Admiral.
“Well, I’d call that an improvement,” he insisted. “You ever notice what it smells like in there?”
Natori cocked an eyebrow his way. “I can’t say that I have. I assume you’re about to share?”
Drake shrugged and tilted his head. “Nearest I can describe it is the Devil’s perfume, like if fire and brimstone smelled appealing, or at least rather inoffensive.”
“How curious,” Natori replied, leaning slightly to the right so he could look around Drake. “Though perhaps we should ruminate on that once we secure your coffee?”
Drake spun around fast enough to tweak his neck, finding the Gorgon with his coffee in hand. Her long, thin, black, serpent-like tongue was extended several inches and lapping at the dark brown liquid. The two men stared. “Has she ever been given coffee before, sir?”
“Just water, Mr. Thane. Curious as I am, I would like you to go and stop her now.”
Thane needed no further encouragement, bolting back into the room to snatch back his drink. The Gorgon replaced the disposable lid and offered it to him. Her eyes were still as menacing as ever, but the telltale contractions of her chest muscles that foretold a gout of deadly acid were missing. He tentatively reached out and accepted it, earning a low, complex hiss in return. Glancing down, he pointed at her untouched meal and then the sander. The Gorgon cracked her whip-like tail against the ground in frustration but complied, taking the food to a far corner of the room and beginning to eat piece by piece. Her eyes never left him even during her retreat as she demonstrated a rather remarkable ability to slither backwards.
Drake figured that was good enough, sitting against the opposite wall and opening his coffee. While it didn’t seem any different, he wasn’t about to take the chance that an alien with venomous pseudo-breasts didn’t produce oral toxins. Instead he stood again and approached her, keeping both hands on the cup so as not to arouse suspicion. He deposited it next to her and then returned to his position. With a curious hiss the alien opened the lid and, instead of continuing to drink, dipped the tip of her tail into the still slightly steaming liquid before continuing with her meal.
“What in the world?” Thane whispered, watching as the greenish skin underneath the Gorgon’s natural rocky plating shifted to a yellower hue, starting from the tip of her tail and moving slowly upward towards her body. The color change didn’t get all the way there before stalling out, but she seemed pleased with it to the point that upon finishing her meal she actually pointed to him, then to the sanding tool in his hands, and finally to her other shoulder. Unheard by the two of them, Natori threw his head back in laughter, amazed at the transition from murderous adversary to an imperious giver of orders. Drake shrugged but saw no reason not to comply. He’d been planning to attempt such a maneuver anyway as a further showing of good faith following the Lavinaga incident.
When he stepped within arm’s reach of her, the Gorgon straightened her torso and held out a thin, armored hand and poked him in the sternum. Even her fingers had the potential for danger with their rocky nail-like tips. Her other hand rested on her chest as she hissed a particular pattern of sounds twice in a row; she then poked him again. He nodded. “My name is Drake Thane. Sorry I can’t understand you.”
Undeterred, the Gorgon simply lowered herself back onto her coiled tail and presented her shoulder. She hissed again in a softer tone as Drake activated the sander, taking another glance at his coffee which now seemed to be serving as a tail warmer.
“Might as well get started then. You clearly have quite a bit to teach me.”
Chapter 3
Available to the public on my patreon here due to reddit's post size limit.
Chapter 4
Available to select patrons here

Okay not sure this goes here but here it goes.
This took place during the middle of 2018. Me my wife and 3 kids were looking for a new place to rent because our current renter was selling and had given us a 60 notice to move. During this time my wife's mother had a friend lets call him Sam. Sam had a 4 bedroom 2 bath house that he was in the middle of remodeling to get ready to sell. Because of this certain parts of the house like some of the walls weren't fully painted and some of the floors were old. At the current time my family really needed a place to stay and our budget wouldn't allow us to rent any places over $1000 a month. Keep in mind I am a disabled Veteran and have a lot of time to sit and research things when I need too.
First part signing the lease and getting the keys:
During the lease signing we went over to the house for Sam to point out all the things that were being worked and what things weren't complete when we were moving it. For example, the kitchen floor was being replaced, the kitchen counter, carpet was being added throughout the whole house (currently all wood floors). When we got there we pointed out that there was still trash all over the floor and bug traps all over the ground he assured us that it would all be cleaned before we moved in. So we hand over our deposit and sign the lease for $1000 dollars a month. He says that he is going on Vacation out of state and wont be back for 6 months but that contractors will be stopping by to work on the house. He leaves me a list of the work that is going to be done and then we wait.
Move in date:
3 days later we are given the go ahead that we are able to move in at that he will be back in 6 months. We arrive at the house to find his 2 cars and motorcycle in the drive way with no where but the street for us to park (this becomes very important later in court.) The house is still just as dirty as the day we signed the lease. But with us really needing a place to stay me and my wife just take pictures and note everything wrong and get to cleaning. now remember this was a 4 bedroom 2 bathroom house however the owner left so much stuff in the house that the 4th bedroom was filled from wall to wall with junk we decided to just close that door and not use the room. keep in mind that because we didnt have access to the room because of the ownelandlord we were aloud to deduct that room from the rent. this deduction of rent becomes a pattern soon.
Living there:
Now we lived there a total of 9 months. during the first 6 months we tried to get ahold of the landlord by phone with a way to pay rent. But we never got a reply from him after the day we got the keys. so everything that went wrong we just kept track of. Place had bugs nails sticking out of the floors and many other hazards. finally on the 7th month Sam returns from his vacation out of state and retrieves one of the cars in the drive. tells us he sorry for not responding and tells us we will figure out the rent and fixing my issues over the next week. On month 8 I still havent paid him anything as I sent him a letter stating that I would be with holding rent until the safety issues with the house are fixed. Where we live this is legal. During this time instead of just fixing the issues and then getting rent from me we are served with an eviction notice. Keep in mind we have kept record of everything wrong with this house including everything to code.
Time in court:
First red flag in the eviction is the copy of the lease that was attached it was an altered copy of the original I still had so the documents didn't even match. So lets do a little math each month I withheld rent I gave a detailed invoice of all the charges I'm reducing the rent by. I send all of this in the return on the eviction and guess who shows up to the house 5 days before court. You bet its Sam he starts yelling at the front door telling me to give him my debit card so that he can go get my rent out right now. I calmly tell him that even though he is the Ownelandlord that under the current laws he must give me a 24 hour notice before being on the property unless it is an emergency. I call the cops so that I can document that he showed up and tried to scare me into giving him money on the spot. 5 days later we show up at court and his lawyer walks over to me and presents me with a deal. he tells me that his client (Sam). would like to just have me move out in 2 weeks and call the debt even. I tell no thank you and we can talk about it with the Judge.
I present everything on my part 100 of photos and invoices from each month about my rent reduction. Plus all the safety violations:
1 room no access - 250/month x 9 months 2 work cleaning and taking care of pool (was in lease to have pool guy never showed) - 100/month x 9 months 3 lawn care (also in lease to be provided) - 50/month x 9 months 4 Storage for 1 motorcycle - 25/day x9 months 5 Storage for 1 car - 55/day x 9 months 6 storage for 1 car - 55/day x 7 months (he picked this one up after vacation)
Safety Violations - No CO2 detector in the house, No working smoke alarms, all windows are supposed to have screens most were broken or missing, because of pool and no fence around it back door needed alarm to beep when opened ( County safety code ). exposed wires on most electric outlets, ceiling fans not installed but wires just exposed, improper foundation for rear stairs leading out back door, no license for inclosed backyard room ( had a 30ft x 20ft area off back door which was inclosed by a screened area ) county required a license for anything that was attached to the house. also the pilled up junk in the 4th bedroom was considered a fire hazard.
Now I picked the rate per day to store the vehicles at the house because legally I could of had them towed off the property even though they are the owners. This is the rate the impound lot would have charged per a day the vehicle was in lot. This added up to a total invoice of 36,750 - the 9000 owe for rent leaving 27,750 owed. After hearing both sides the Judge ruled in my favor giving my landlord 3 options.
1 He could pay me 9,999 Max allowed in small claims court here and I would have 7 days to be off of the property. 2 He could give me a normal 30 notice to vacate and I wouldn't pay anything and he would return my deposit in full within 24 hours after keys are returned. or 3 I could continue to live there but no rent would be owed until all safety issues were fixed and his stuff on the property removed.
He choose to go with option 2.
On a side note found out from my wife's mother about a year after we moved out some of the shady "upgrades" he did to the house caused a house fire and burned down. This wasn't anything I did but it felt so good to know that karma gets you in the end.
Edit: Noticed something in one of my comments that I pointed out that Sam was doing upgrades. He didn't start doing these said upgrades until after i had submitted my response to the Eviction. my response had to have everything i was showing in court so his lawyer was shown all the safety issues and all that pictures. basically he wanted to fix everything right before court and then say that the house had no issues.

Burned alive and buried alive, the two worst fates for any living creature that I could ever possibly imagine. If forced with the choice, which would you pick? Unbearable physical agony, or extreme mental torture? The most excruciating pain imaginable, or the utmost form of horror that the human mind is capable of conceiving? Up to a few years ago, I didn't know either. Why would you even consider it if not forced to? Well, one day I found out which I'd choose. One day so dreadful that there's no adjective in the English language strong enough to properly convey the horror of it; a day so awful that I struggle just to recall it, I had the choice put upon me. Here is what happened:
Years ago, I bought my first home. Being an overall fan of the macabre and, living in rural New England, I decided on a nearly ancient American Colonial style home. Reminiscent of something out of a Nathaniel Hawthorne or Arthur Miller story, it was the product of a bygone era. Though it was built in the early 1800s, as the cliche goes, it had good bones, and had been fairly well maintained considering it’s age. That being said, it still needed some work.
A few weeks after closing, while fixing some of the faulty old wiring in the basement, I came across a centuries old drain set into the stone flooring. It was maybe three feet in diameter and covered with a heavy iron grate that was worn with many decades worth of rough, brown corrosion. It resembled the entrance to a dungeon.
Like I mentioned above, I have a curiosity for all the dark and morbid elements of the world. Finds like this were the exact reason I wanted this house! So I decided to have a closer look at the forgotten thing. I laced my fingers through the dirty old grate and gave it a firm pull. It opened with a pained and rusty cry. I gazed down into the hole. A faint, acrid stink arose from its depths. It was as dry as old bone and quiet as a crypt. I assumed, due to the home’s location on the side of a small hill, that the basement had once been prone to flooding, and that modern technological developments had rendered that, like so many other things in this place, a relic of the past. I poked my head a little farther in and looked into the deep, dark recesses of the ancient plumbing. I could make out just the faintest bit of light at the far end. I went out into the yard and found the outlet hidden deep in a thicket of tangled brush. Evidently lacking access to chicken mesh, someone had covered it with a makeshift criss-crossing of merciless looking barbed wire, apparently to keep out any unwanted creatures from crawling in during the night. I thought that whomever had done so had made a smart choice. The pipe looked nearly big enough for a person to squeeze through.
A few months later, I was back working in the basement. The previous owner had left boxes upon boxes of yellowed old newspapers, books and other forms of aged literature stacked under the stairs. I wanted to move out what I could as they were taking up a lot of valuable storage space and were a possible fire hazard, especially under the dry, splintery wood of the basement risers. Honestly though, I really wanted to look through them to see what sort of curious old volumes might be hidden within the dusty mound.
About thirty minutes into my task, I had sifted through and moved about five of the boxes without finding anything of much interest. In the sixth box, however, I came upon a strange volume bound in worn leather that looked like it must be older than the house itself. It had the words Kitab al Kanuz embossed on the cover and was written in what appeared to be Arabic, though I'm no linguist. There were English translations or notes of some sort written in the margins. They seemed to say something about the locations of lost and hidden treasures. This was exactly the kind of thing I was looking for! Excited by my find, I moved out from under the stairs in search of better lighting to read it by. I went over to a large flood light I had left in the basement from a previous project and flicked it on. The decrepit wiring running under the stairs sparked violently.
I spun quickly and, in doing so, tripped and fell backward. By the time I got up, the sparks had already lit a fire in the stack of boxes that stood nearly a meter high. It was licking and biting at the withered stairs like the jaws of a hungry animal. In hindsight, at this very moment, I should have sprinted through the flames to safety. Whatever burns I would have suffered would have paled in comparison the trauma I was doomed to endure by staying put. But, like they say, hindsight is 20/20. Instead, I sat frozen in shock of the sight in front of me. When I snapped out of it, I looked around frantically for any sign of something to douse the flames with, but of course there was nothing. Nobody thinks to keep a fire extinguisher in their basement.
The blaze rose higher, engulfing the staircase and spreading around the door jamb at the top like some type of hellish decoration. I tried desperately to hold back panic and think of a way out. My basement had no windows and no hatchway either.
Then the fire spread to the exposed fiberglass insulation in the ceiling. It jumped from section to section like a stone skipping across a pond. The air became thick with the baking heat. The sound of the flames crackling was now constant and unrelenting. Smoke was filling up the already close air, curling and twisting through the space. Every breath I took tasted of hot ash.
I finally decided my only hope was to sprint up the stairs through the inferno and pray my injuries weren't life threatening. Thoughts of pink, stinging burns, blisters, wet peeling flesh and skin grafts flashed through my mind. I hesitated. I tried to steel my nerves against it all. Then the staircase collapsed.
I drew back against the concrete wall behind me, hoping for respite from the sudden gust of fiery air that followed. It didn't help. It was like standing too close to a bonfire, but with no way to back up.
I looked up at the doorway. The threshold was 15 feet up and surrounded by flame. I moved away along the wall, desperately searching for any relief from the heat and smoke. Everything was on fire now. I could barely see. My eyes burned and every breath choked my lungs. I was beginning to feel light-headed and nauseous. I was going to die down here, asphyxiated and burned alive. I prayed to God to feel as little as possible.
I got down on my stomach hoping to delay the inevitable. My hands felt cold metal on the floor. I heard it grind and shift with my movement. My fingers slipped through elongated holes. I was lying on top of the drain.
My heart jumped and then immediately dropped to the pit of my stomach. I had a way out, but it meant squeezing through hundreds of feet of suffocating underground tunnel.
I pulled it open and it gave that same rusty cry as before. I put my head inside. The air felt cool and fresh compared to the basement. I looked at the spec of light way down in the darkness. It looked miles away. I tried pushing myself inside. My shoulders pressed against the sides of the drain, pinning my arms tightly to my sides. Claustrophobia hit me like an electric shock. I scrambled back up immediately.
I couldn't do this. It was so narrow. I would get stuck in the pipe and slowly die in there, deep under the earth. I sobbed and cried out in utter despair.
The fire was closing in around me. I could barely breath anymore. The heat was like being in an oven. Like baking to death. I felt flames lick at my back and I jumped forward. Fire burnt the skin of my face. I pulled back. I had nowhere left to go. Without stopping to think any further, I shoved my body headlong into the hole.
I wriggled in like a worm, the flames burning at my feet and legs giving me the dearly needed motivation to move forward. My arms were pinned to my sides again. Because of the "L" shape of the drain I had to go in upside down. It was like being trapped in a coffin. It was like being stuck in a cave miles below the earth's surface. Dread and anxiety like I've never felt before consumed me.
I wriggled and squirmed and kicked. I moved mere centimeters with each desperate effort. The sides of the pipe clenched around me like a fist. Every move felt like it would wedge me hopelessly in the pipe. In my position, I couldn't even see where I was going. I had no idea how much progress I was making. If I was even getting closer to the opening. The darkness was total.
I sobbed and screamed and squirmed further, scraping my skin on the rough sides of the dried up old pipe. My mind was pure panic now. I pushed with my legs all I could, but I only had room to lift my knees a few inches. I struggled wildly to keep moving, the sides of the cylinder grinding against my shoulders and hips. My manic breathing and hopeless cries echoed deafeningly in the pipe.
Then I came to a rise. I could feel it like a ridge under my back. The build up of centuries of rock hard mineral deposits created a stalagmite like formation underneath me that gradually rose up the sides of the passage. I kept pushing and squirming as feverishly as ever until I felt my shoulders squeeze right up against my neck. I kicked and I twisted and I yelled, but I could not move. I was pinned within the jagged ridge. There wasn't room to move forward and I had no way to back up. I was stuck. Completely and totally stuck. I thrashed my legs and jerked my torso violently. I whipped my head around and cried out like an animal in a trap, banging my forehead against the top of the pipe and scraping the skin off. Still my body wouldn't move.
I cried and I screamed until I was exhausted. Then I cried and screamed even more. I began to fade in and out. I dreamt that I saw the faces of the dead climbing out of the earth above me. I heard the voices of demons in my ears chanting and laughing at me in strange languages. I could feel the pipe squeezing and tightening and relaxing just to play with me. The world spun uncontrollably at times, making me dizzy and sick. Other times I floated paralyzed through the void. My thoughts whirled violently round my brain like mad, biting flies. My head felt like an oven with my brain baking inside. The salt of my tears burned my dried up eyes. I was going to die in here. Alone. Stuck. Unable to move.
I completely lost my sanity during those hours. My consciousness turned to a soup of constantly churning, manic thought with nothing resembling rational or ordered cognitive activity remaining. Consequently, it was my wild, animalistic screams that finally alerted the firefighters to my whereabouts deep within the pipe.
They had to wait until the fire had died down before they could call in an excavator. Eventually, the heavy machine became too risky, as it could easily have collapsed the decaying old tube, burying me within. So they set to work digging it up with shovels. After they moved enough earth to expose the pipe, they had to cut out the section I was entombed in with a large saw. I know people were speaking to me during this time, trying in vain to keep me calm, but all I remember is the deafening, metallic shrieking that echoed through the pipe, stabbing at my eardrums like ice picks.
Once freed from the rest of the conduit, they lifted the section that held me out of the ground with a small crane and set it down in the yard. I vaguely remember another floating sensation. I had hoped I had died.
Soon they went to back to work with smaller, yet barely less hideous sounding saws. It was night at this point, so I didn't even get the miniscule benefit of daylight to ease the suffering. Other than the noise, it felt no different than when I first crawled in.
Finally, it felt as if a great weight was lifted from all sides of me. My body seemed to expand in all directions. Cool night air brushed across my skin. I was lifted up and carried away.
This, like I said, was years ago. I am just now regaining the sanity needed to be able to process these events and write them down. My therapist tells me it's a good idea. That it will help me get past the event to whatever degree possible. He says it may help with the night terrors too. I can barely sleep without teleporting right back into that suffocating space. The other patients in the hospital are used to my nightly screaming by now. So are the nurses and orderlies. It was they who gave me the details of my rescue. They tell me I was stuck in that pipe for nearly ten hours before the rescuers got me out. They also tell me that crawling into it was the only reason I survived. The house was nothing but a pile of ashes after the fire and, because of its subterranean location, very little heat or smoke got into that awful drain.
So, in the end, that nightmare is the reason I'm alive and able to write this. Though, if I could go back to that day, to that moment standing above the ancient grate, surrounded by roaring flame, I'm not sure I'd make the same decision again. I may have let the flames take me. I may let myself burn alive.

Hi,
I am looking for some advise for the current situation with my tenant and hope someone could help me since I haven't got any convincing answers from the RTB.
Here's the story. I rented out my basement a couple of months ago. The guy is on disability and I believe also receives some rent subsidy. Just after 3-4 days of him moved in, his smoke alarm started buzzing. Upon inquiring (SMS) if everything was alright, he got really upset saying I bothered him and didn't let him cook. I told him, it was ok to cook and needed to ask since it could've been a fire emergency. The alarm buzzed a few more times a few days after as well but I knew he was cooking so ignored. I actually setup one day a month for inspection to make sure there are no issues with the plumbing, etc. While I was inspecting, I noticed he took the smoke alarm off. I told him it's a fire violation and in the event of fire, it would be a problem. He said, it was due to the cooking. Ok!
So, a month later again at a dinner time I heard the smoke alarm, messaged him but received no response. Sensing the emergency, I rushed downstairs and knocked on his door inquiring if everything was alright. He came out, banging on the walls, abusing me with fuck you, fucking fuck, etc. and how I was not letting him cook. He started threatening me, banged the door really hard. Fearing for some form of physical assault, I rushed inside and called the cops. They came and talked to him and advised me to take it with the Tenancy branch.
The very next day I issued him a one month notice for eviction due to endangering health and safety, threatening me, and trying to harm my property. I also quoted in the notice the Police file no. for the call I made. I alongwith my whole family have been in anxiety ever since. He didn't dispute in the due time, and considering it would take the hearing for another 3 months I filed for expedited hearing.
My question is, if these are the sufficient grounds for eviction? What if the arbitrator sides with him at the hearing? I mean, aren't removing the smoke alarms a violation and a fire hazard already? He has been smoking and using weed in his unit ever since and I had to covetape all heat vents since the smoke makes its way to my house upstairs. The dude is an utter trash and harassing us using the other ways (smoking in unit, which I mentioned in my agreement was prohibited and he signed). It's been a hell for me and the whole family that comprised of seniors and a kid. I also gave him an offer to move out early and I would pay him back an extra month of rent along with his deposit. I can't talk to him now due to any chance of verbal/physical retaliation.
Any recourse I have than to wait for a due time for my hearing? Are the chances high that the arbitratos side with him since they are mostly favor the tenants? May be not, but I am not sure.
Edit: 1. As the tenant didn’t dispute the one month notice, I filed for the Order of Possession yesterday.

This isn't meant to be a guide or a collection of tips, this is a collection of mostly undocumented factoids that I have read, observed and/or tested through (way too) many hours of playing. If you know of something that should be included and can possibly be tested, know something additional, or if you find any of these factoids to be wrong, just drop a comment and I will edit the main post.

General

• Chunks are pieces of 10x10 tiles of the map, Cells are 300x300 tiles.
• You can use the “Walk to” command along with Fast Forward x1 (F4).
• While using the "Walk to" command your character will avoid trees while walking through a forest.
• The Automated Emergency Broadcast System radio station frequency is randomized on every save. Weather reports starts every hour (2:00, 3:00, 4:00, etc.)
• A generator doesn't risk starting a fire unless its condition gets down to 50% *^{By RiverSideBob\}2020)
• You can pause (F2) while browsing the content of containers. You can drag items to your inventory and when you un-pause the actions will have queued up. ^\By therealdost)
• Faucets, toilets, showers and washing machines can be plumbed to a Rain Collector Barrel one level above and a tile offset around them. ^\By Razorwings18)

Vehicles

• Despite the jarring sound they make, corpses and tree saplings do not damage your vehicle. Saplings slow you down and corpses are overturning hazards.
• If you click on the vehicle’s Engine on the Vehicle Mechanics window you get another stat: Engine Quality. This stat governs the vehicle’s ability to start on ignition. Engine Quality does not degrade but also cannot be repaired. Engine Condition can be repaired with Engine Parts at Mechanics lv4, but this stat only prevents the engine from stalling.
• Applying the parking brake (space) and skidding does not damage your tires, killing zombies with them does. Braking does diminish the lives of your brake pads, but by an insignificant amount over many applications.
• Most metal parts of a vehicle can be repaired with the Metalworking skill, as long as you uninstall the items first. Some parts can even be repaired while installed, like the hood.
• If zombies can’t get to your window because it is blocked by another object, you can’t be damaged. They will still damage other unblocked parts of your vehicle with their attacks.
• You can drop items to the ground while inside a vehicle if your window is open.
• When your tires condition are low, they have a chance of bursting while you drive.
• Cars have cruise control, activated by shift+W. Shift+W also increases you speed by increments of 5 mph, and shift+S reduces it by 5 mph. Tapping or holding the brakes (S) turns it off entirely. ^\By Lorenzo_BR)
• Car seats can hold a single item above their capacity limit. Great for transporting generators. ^\By Potato_of_Fate)
• As of 41.50 zombies can go under vehicles.
• Tires with no air pressure will fall off the vehicle after driving a short distance ^\By) ^Ohtrin

Food

• Tainted water is not a serious danger to your health when drank. Tainted water from a container is treated as poison and can kill you. Purify your water by boiling it on a heat source if you intent to drink it that way. Tainted water drank directly from a water source like the river is relatively safe and will not kill you (or even give you symptoms) despite large quantities consumed. Also, tainted water can be used as an ingredient safely.
• Unlike soup and stew, stir-fry will not increase boredom and unhappiness when eaten “cold” but fresh. In addition, its weight will remain at 1.2 despite the weight of the ingredients.
• If you want the complete fatigue restoration of the Tea Bag or Coffee, you’re going to have to eat them as is. You can create coffee and tea beverages by filling a mug with water and having Coffee or a Tea Bag in your inventory. You can get 6 uses out of a single Coffee item or 1 out of a Tea Bag and they'll lose their penalties to thirst and happiness, at the expense of losing 15% of their fatigue reduction.
• Butchered meat rots considerably faster than the dead animals: Dead rabbit will last 20 days before rotting, unlike its butchered Rabbit Meat counterpart, which will rot in 6 days.
• The smoker trait makes cigarettes decrease your unhappiness.
• The potency of the poisonous berries depends on number of items ingested, not on the hunger value of the berry. It takes two poisonous berries for a character without traits to show an increase in body temperature, three to make a character queasy. On the same note, it takes one poisonous mushroom to show an increase in body temperature, two to induce queasy. Double the number of doses for characters with Iron Gut, and halve for characters with Weak Stomach (one dose will show symptoms).
• Different bottles that can hold water have different capacity and weight. The Beer Bottle can hold 12 units of water (20% more than a water bottle) and only weights 0.4 while full (50% less than a water bottle). ^\By Potato_of_Fate)

Health, Fatigue (sleep) and Exhaustion (stamina)

• Fatigue reduces the rate at which you recover from exhaustion. At high levels of fatigue (Drowsy+) you will not regenerate stamina at all unless you use the rest command.
• Exertion does not increase the rate at which you gain fatigue. The actions you perform do (Foraging, Fitness routines, etc.). Resting will not make you last longer until Drowsy.
• Once you hit the Very Tired moodle, your cone of vision and perception bubble (circle of vision behind you) will start to gradually shrink. The minimum cone of vision is ~70°.
• Running and sprinting do not increase fatigue.
• Combining sitting on the ground with rest (next to a chaibed) will speed up stamina recovery.
• Muscle fatigue effects and duration only depend on the time of the fitness routine and its accumulated regularity, not any other health and injury related effects (fullness) and traits (healer).
• Muscle fatigue will appear after ~12 hours of the conclusion of the fitness routine.
• Bandages and ripped sheets can be sterilized by heating up a Cooking Pot with Water. Once in a heat source and hot, right click and the option to Disinfect or Sterilize should be listed.

Panic

• Each day survived (up to 150 days) increases the rate that panic is decreased. ^\By reddits_creepy_masco)
• Traits like cowardly/brave/veteran alter how panic is increased. ^\By reddits_creepy_masco)
• Being asleep doubles the reduction rate. ^\By reddits_creepy_masco)

Zombies

• Some proper zombies will have increased sight range.
• Darkness and light fog don’t affect zombies the way your eyes do. As long as a they can appear on screen, they will detect you by sight at normal ranges. Thick fog patches do obscure zones of the screen and gives you cover from sight detection.
• Proper zombies will never catch you from the front if you walk backwards while in combat stance. They will however catch you if they’re too close and you try to walk in another direction or if you slow yourself by attacking. If you release Aim (RMB) while walking backwards you will turn around quickly enough to escape, and you can also combine it with Run (LShift) for extra safety if other zombies are behind you.
• You can run very close to proper zombies (or even through large groups) and your character will swat them around and break free. You can use this to escape when surrounded. Be warned, there's a small chance you'll trip and fall.
• Every chunk has a classification of what zombie type should spawn there. If you want to find firefighter zombies, go near a Fire Department. Migration and respawning seem to work for spawning the desired zombies, while forced movement with loud noises will not.
• If you disable respawn, no zombies will ever spawn or respawn on places you visited. When you activate an unvisited location (travel or sound) and the game loads that piece of the map, the game will load it with the population of the current day (be it before or after Peak Day).
• Zombies will only migrate from pieces of the map you have loaded.
• It takes a zombie 1 hour to die upon being set on fire.
• You can dispose of zombie corpses by dropping them over a campfire and them light it , it takes around 10 in-game minutes for all the corpses to burn. ^\By BulgarianCarThief)

Firearms

• Movement, panic and time between shots reduce your chances of scoring hits.
• You can shoot any firearm (and throw Molotov cocktails and bombs) from inside a vehicle seat as long as you open the window. You are allowed 360° of aim radius. Beware, you can take explosion damage from explosives while inside.
• You can rack/unload (X) and reload (R) a pump shotgun or revolver to gain Reloading skill experience without having to look at your inventory. You can queue the racks by pressing X as many times as you want.
• Firearms used inside a building are not equally loud to zombies located outside of it.
• Rifle rounds (.308) will overpenetrate and hit another zombie directly behind the target.

Melee Combat

• You can use melee weapons from inside a vehicle seat as long as you open the window. Including pushing and foot stomps.
• The resulting condition from crafting a Crafted Spear depends on your Carpentry level.
• You can repair a Spiked Baseball Bat with one nail. Subsequent uses will diminish the percentage of repair and success chance but even at 1% repair, you will regain some condition with repeated repairs.
• Stabbing Short Blades (Hunting Knife, Screwdriver, etc.) do not slow you down when walking backwards and have no minimum range (shove activation).
• Some weapons, particularly the heavy ones, increase your exhaustion faster when used than other, lighter weapons.
• Disassembling metal objects can yield, besides metal sheets and scrap, metal pipes and metal bars, which can be used as weapons. Yield depends on the object and metalworking skill. You need a propane torch and a welding mask. ^\By Lorenzo_BR)
• Strength influences the damage you do with melee weapons, foot stomps and the chances of knocking down zombies with the melee push. Strength gives 5% for each level to all melee attacks and a flat 0.2 increase to foot stomps. ^\By eirc)
• The shove knockdown chance happens to have a simple formula

​

35 - 5 * endurance - 5 * load - 1.3 * panic + 2 * strength 

with the moodles going from 0 to 4 for each level and strength from 0 to 10. Interestingly knockdown happens as the result of a crit so this is the crit formula for shove. ^\By eirc)

Winter

• Only materials can be found while foraging.
• The freezing temperatures outside will not freeze your food.
• Plants will grow during winter, but slower depending on the temperature.
• Trapping isn’t affected. Fishing is reduced.
• Snow does not replenish your open water containers left outside nor waters your plants.

Helicopter

• During the day the helicopter will appear, a warning that reads “Air Activity Detected” will show up after the weather report on the Automated Emergency Broadcast System radio station. The event will start randomly through the day.
• Helicopter sound starts and stops 3 times. The sound source will move around your current location and has roughly the sound range of a house alarm (250 tiles radius).
• If zombies do not detect you, they will not try to get to you. They might however decide to take shortcuts thru doors, windows and player constructed walls and furniture, attacking them.

Previous Post Here
Hello World!. Some of you may remember that famous greeting, some won't. But I bet you that Peter Thiel does. In fact I guarantee you that Pete does? And Peter has probably spent the majority of his life based on that simple line of computer code from back in the day.

A "Hello, World!" program generally is a computer program that outputs or displays the message "Hello, World!". Such a program is very simple in most programming languages, and is often used to illustrate the basic syntax of a programming language. It is often the first program written by people learning to code. It can also be used as a sanity test to make sure that a computer language is correctly installed, and that the operator understands how to use it. Source Here

Now Peter must have came across the Hello World! sanity test at some point. Why? Because let's face it, you don't develop one of the largest known surveillance systems in the world without having come across Hello World! at some point. And you definitely don't call your company Palantir
A palantír (/ˈpælənˌtɪə; pl. palantíri) is a fictional magical artefact from J. R. R. Tolkien's Middle-earth legendarium. A palantír (from Quenya palan, 'far; tir, 'watch over'[T 1]) is described as an indestructible ball of crystal, used for communication and to see events in other parts of Arda, whether past or future.
To see events past or future. Ok. Name checks out. So then Pete decides to build a doomsday bunker in New Zealand. And his buddy Sam Altman will get a ride down with him, just in case a pandemic is ever unleashed by a synthetic virus. And nope. Not kidding. This is all actually stated in mainstream media. Well before 2020. And I have this documented in Flatten the Curve.
Ok. So. Hold on. Tight. Real tight. Keep your arms folded and put your tray in the upright position. Ok? So. Let's think. History doesn't repeat, but it rhymes. Yes it does. And what is history? Data. And what is one of the largest data company's in the world? Palantir. So. What if men? and women, they have been collecting data not only to manipulate, but to predict? No? Really?
Here's an article from 2009 about a Peter Thiel speech:

The risk of the return of fascism is very underestimated (this is about the emergence of a totalitarian regime trying to control AGI (Artificial General Intelligence) in a (pre)-Singularity time-frame. Source Here

Uhm. Yeah. Now I can't remember being worried about Facism in 2009. I definitely can't remember ANTIFA back then. Can you? But then again, maybe it's a self fulfilling prophecy? Pete did back Donald Trump, and ANTIFA was pretty focused on getting Trump fired. Maybe Pete pulled a Palatine and backed both sides? Who knows?
But. Let's look at a 2017 article about a vaccine for herpes being developed offshore and backed by Thiel

Last Sunday, a story by Kaiser Health News focused on Thiel's investment and highlighted the fact that the 2016 trial "did not rely on traditional U.S. safety oversight." The article noted that "Thiel has been a vocal critic of the FDA, claiming in an interview that its approval process was so unwieldy 'you would not be able to invent the polio vaccine today.'" Source Here

Oooooooh. And now it's 2020+1 and we have FDA emergency approved vaccines for this out of the BLUE pandemic that nobody saw coming. Except Bill Gates.
Does this mean surveillance + data = predicting outcomes? Maybe? Let's look at another paragraph from the article on Peter Thiel from 2009.
He started his speech with letting the crowd choose between a number of catastrophe scenarios: from bio-terrorism, to nuclear war, global warming, and a couple more like that. His thesis was that the biggest disaster that could happen would be that the Singularity does not happen quickly.
Scenarios. They seem to be more than a passing fad, don't they? Every single paper I read on Economics or Security seems to talk about scenarios. And those scenarios are always in four quadrants. From best to worst outcomes. So let's look at future scenarios from our perspectives.

1. Extremely forked.
2. Majorly forked.
3. Sort of forked.
4. Kinda forked.

Now why would I say that?
First of all, not only is Thiel a Steering Member of the Bilderberg Group, but, in 2007, he was honored as a Young Global leader by the World Economic Forum as one of the 250 most distinguished leaders age 40 and under.
Still following? I know. I'm sorry. Im getting there.
Guess who else was a Steering Member of the Bilderberg Group? Klaus Great Reset Schwab. The founder of the WEF that honored Peter Theil as a distinguished leader. Cool, right! That's like the Mickey Mouse Club for wanna be Infinity Gauntlet wearers under 40.
So. Here's another not so fun fun fact; The Club Of Rome was at the first World Economic Forum gathering. Speak your mind Klaus; Our first meeting in 1971 in Davos was, for example, the platform to present to the world the famous report "Limits to Growth" of the Club of Rome. I personally served also as a key advisor to the Rio Earth Summit in 1992 and mobilized the business community for this summit and other events. Source Here
Hello World! Limits to Growth? Does that ring a bell?

What World One showed was that by 2040 there would be a global collapse if the expansion of the population and industry was to continue at the current levels. As reported by the Australian broadcaster ABC, the model's calculations took into account trends in pollution levels, population growth, the amount of natural resources and the overall quality of life on Earth. The model's predictions for the worsening quality of life and the dwindling natural resources have so far been unnervingly on target.

World One was a computer simulation by MIT commissioned by the Club of Rome. You know MIT, that has the lab that was being sponsored by Jeffrey Epstein. Who also wanted to use his sperm to repopulate the planet after the Apocalypse. Not. Creepy. At. All. Ok. Let's get back to the main point.
What else did the computer simulation have to say about our future?

In fact, 2020 is the first milestone envisioned by World One. That's when the quality of life is supposed to drop dramatically. The broadcaster presented this scenario that will lead to the demise of large numbers of people:

Yep. And what a coincidence! 2020! Bill Gates called it! The pandemic is here! And guess what folks, this might be here to stay. No? How else do you explain Klaus Schwab and the Great Reset suddenly forcing environmental perspectives down our throats and falling in love with Greta HOW DARE YOU Thornburg? Remember, you'll own nothing and be happy! Build Back Better!

"At around 2020, the condition of the planet becomes highly critical. If we do nothing about it, the quality of life goes down to zero. Pollution becomes so seriously it will start to kill people, which in turn will cause the population to diminish, lower than it was in the 1900. At this stage, around 2040 to 2050, civilised life as we know it on this planet will cease to exist."

And all this from a computer simulation. And just as promised 2020 came and the virus hit the fan to kick it off. Pollution becomes critical and civilisation ceases to exist by 2040. Unless of course we can hit the Agenda 2030 target, right?
Ok. So remember, Klaus was at the Earth Summit. Guess who else was at the earth summit in 1992? Why none other than George NEW WORLD ORDER Bush Sr. So bear that in mind when reading the next section from the article:

Alexander King, the then-leader of the Club of Rome, evaluated the program's results to also mean that nation-states will lose their sovereignty, forecasting a New World Order with corporations managing everything. Source Here

Not. Good. Stakeholder Capitalism anyone? Corporations and Governments working hard in hand? A New Normal World Order?
Let's recap. Peter Thiel owns a very large data company. He is a member of the Bilderberg Group along with former steering committee member Klaus Schwab, who started the World Economic Forum, and one of it's first presenters was the Club of Rome who forecasted civilization starting to crumble around 2020. Based on a computer simulation. Then we have a pandemic in 2020. And everyone is in Lockdown. And they've already started to link the Lockdown with helping the environment. And we also have Lockstep by the Rockefeller's, who also just happened to get out of oil in 2016 (so they say), because, environment. Yet Bill Gates called the pandemic and made all the right stock investments. And then warned, maybe we'll listen next time. Right. And the Pentagon just happened to commission those studies into riots, how they start, and how to subdue them.
Yep. We're forked.
But what about the simulations?
Haven't all of us been saying it? Over and over again? Nothing has felt right for a while. Has it? A few of us have noticed, most of society hasn't. Why? How? The information is right there! All of it. Maybe not the details, but the overall picture is there. Ok. And I'll have to finish these posts in a series, because there's way too much too much more for one post. But.
A while back I wrote about the Sentinel World Simulation. Flatten the Curve There was another article, but now i can't find it (thanks Google, time to Duck Duck Go). But in the article the journalist stated the goal was to have everyone alive in the simulation, and based on DATA it would attempt to predict events. And now Palantir seems a lot worse than it did. Because now every time you click ok and accept cookies, your possibly giving an AI simulation the information it needs to steer you in the direction it wants, using the device that feeds it all the data and never leaves our hands. Suddenly the battle with Huawei makes more sense, the 5G rush, Starlink, all the rush to implement CCTV cameras everywhere (even in my small area, money was just suddenly GIVEN by upper government to put in cameras).
So if we just entered the 2020 to 2030 decade lcokdown based on a simulation by a group called the Club of Rome, are there any other signs?
First, i have a hard time believing that Trump was supposed to be a part of a manipulation campaign by the Psy Group that was called Project Rome, and that it was all a coincidence.
Second is this 1995 AI progress report by ARPA and Rome Laboratory.
• progress report on the ARPA / Rome Laboratory Knowledge-based Planning and Scheduling Initiative (or ARPI for short). The ARPI has been co-sponsored by the Advanced Research Projects Agency (ARPA) and the United States Air Force Rome Laboratory (RL) since 1989. The ARPI’s main purpose is the development of the next generation of fundamental artificial intelligence planning, scheduling, and resource allocation technology. An equally important secondary goal is to demonstrate significant capability improvements over current planning trends in operational domains. This paper provides a historical background and the founding principles and visions for the ARPI which is now in its third phase. Document Download Here
And we can't have a total world simulator called Sentinel unless we have all the world's data:

The Sentinel System – new and improved

At the centre of the programme sits the Copernicus Space Component, which includes a family of satellites known collectively as Sentinels. These spacecraft provide routine atmospheric, oceanic, cryosphere and land global monitoring data, which are made freely available for Copernicus Services and major research and commercial applications such as precision farming, environmental hazards monitoring, weather forecasting and climate resilience. Source Here
They aren't building Skynet. They're building the New Normal Rome. And they want the Sentinel to guard the Empire and keep it safe by simulating scenarios to spot trouble before it starts. That's why we're getting the constant barrage of scenarios. They're letting us know, hard way or easy way, but it's always going to be our way. That's why everything has felt off. The scenarios are keeping them a couple locksteps ahead until the Singularity is ready to take over (they hope). And then the AI gives the orders. If it isn't already. Because there is no way human intelligence came up with this New Normal. No. Way. At. All.
More to come. Keep Your Head Up And Eyes Open Talk soon.

Hey everyone,
I wanted to give a public and big THANK YOU for the kind messages/support after reading my post from about a week and a half ago regarding my perspective on being homeless here (https://www.reddit.com/Bellingham/comments/kvkrfn/my_homelessness_perspective/) I really appreciated the kind messages and I think I got back to all of them. It’s been an overwhelming time with Covid and the world but, I finally got my stimulus, so that’s a couple weeks of motel living covered. Thanks to some help, I also got some additional time covered, as well as my storage unit, mailbox, and cellphone paid. Also getting warm food is always a super plus. So, I’m just grateful that people read what I had to say and hopefully understand my perspective.
At least through the first two weeks of February I can sleep slightly easier, but that’s the frustrating part- I know the overwhelming stress is coming again soon and there’s no true alleviation yet until I have housing again.
Now for the PSA part (my apologies, I'm tired and whoever was in the room next door was screaming at all hours.)
TW for violence Yesterday and throughout the night, I received maybe close to 20?or more messages disparaging homeless people and me specifically for being homeless, a waste of life, and being a blight on the community and some more egregious things like I should h*rt myself, walk into traffic on I-5, and so on.
I understand people are frustrated, scared, and enraged from all different directions.
But. Taking it out on me, a human individual who is struggling with homelessness, isn’t doing a damn thing about altering the situation at large or voicing your complaints. All it does is make me feel worse and more ashamed. I have literally no power or tangible influence- I'm just trying to think about how to get through February.
I’m very lucky to not suffer from a debilitating or severe mental illness and I’m very lucky to not be addicted to drugs or alcohol. My situation is probably classified as “acute” homelessness or “hidden” homelessness because I stay in motels right now. I lived in a tent during the summer and fall, but it was on commercial campgrounds, it wasn’t on public property.
People have asked me- I don’t know people at Camp 210 or the organizers or helpers. I don’t know their stories individually. I know some are chronically homeless, some are addicts, some are suffering from mental illness, some are addicts because of mental illness. Some are like me who have none of the above, but struggling for a place to sleep and have a tent. Some feel unwelcome or unsafe at the shelter in town (which is run by a religious organization and all the complexities that come with it.) Point is: it’s complicated.
On the other hand, I totally get you don’t want to be harassed or catcalled or deal with nonsense while going to work. Which is why I spend every dollar I have to stay in a motel because I’m a tiny woman- I don’t necessarily feel safe in an open tent space around a bunch of men, regardless of their wealth or standing in society (sorry men- I know it's not all of you- but I know stats are not in my favor and safety is my top priority.) And the garbage does look unsightly- totally agree- garbage is gross. I also agree fire hazards are a concern.
I do support occupation as a protest tactic. However, this is more complex because it’s not just a run of the mill protest, it’s also people who are literally trying to just live and handle the mental distress that comes from feeling beat on and dumped on by society.
Also some of those folks protesting were clearly out of towners and some were from right in town, from wealthier backgrounds who wanted to play tough for a day (similar to the people who hijack BLM even though they’ve never wanted for a thing in their life.) A former roommate was down there causing a ruckus. (They had their entire education paid for, house paid, car bought, and received 1.5k a month as “fun money” from mom and dad.) But they were down there taking on a social cause they’ve never been invested in because they want to go after “the man” and the society that has very much worked out in their favor. Some were clearly just punkass kids trying to start shit.
Homelessness is a multifaceted complex issue. It impacts the community negatively and it obviously impacts individuals experiencing it negatively. All of these can be true at the same time.

• We need mental healthcare and institutions for those with chronic debilitating mental illness.
• We need long term rehab that addresses the root causes of addiction, which usually stems from life circumstances or medical issues.
• We need community accountability for programs that say they help people and take in all these dollars.
• We need to question if our money is being allocated wisely.
• We need low priced weekly rent/monthly stay motels/hotels or to even have the city buy rooms at various ones to spread out the population so it’s less concentrated and less worrisome to people.
• We need more single bedroom vouchers and places that accept vouchers.
• Congress needs to fund ALL who qualify for vouchers (over 11 million people who are qualified for vouchers don't receive them because of lack of funding.)
• We also shouldn’t accept that pollution is okay either, we value our environment.
• And we need to provide people the dignity to ease the pollution issues and educate on options and procedures before harassing them.
• And it’s fine to acknowledge, yes, some people are just straight up assholes and unsafe individuals, but that also doesn’t need to be the first assumption about every person who is homeless. I can tell you from firsthand experience there are assholes and unsafe people living in beautiful 800k properties in this county too.
• We need jobs that pay $20+ an hour so people can afford rent and if we don't have jobs that pay that, then we've got to fill in the gaps to cover housing and other essentials.

If average rent is $1,200 then it would be $14,400 to cover rent in an apartment for a full YEAR. (This also means you need to make about $40k a year in order to even qualify for rent, regardless of any other restrictions. And well you know about how many jobs actually offer that. That’s about $19-20 per hour by the way.)
With the $900k they used to outfit the high school as a temporary shelter for a short time (it was basically the late spring through summer wasn’t it?), they could have fully housed 125 people for 6 months or 62 for an entire year. This week on average, I think it was 130ish people who stayed overnight at Lighthouse Mission. I think about this all the time and the allocation of resources and what that looks like. It’s amazing that $15k is literally the life-changing difference.
When people strike homelessness with the same brush what ends up happening is people will target ALL homeless people instead of focusing energy on what can be done and what you should advocate for. If you're mad, write to Congress to fully fund voucher programs for housing, write to state governments to provide resources, say you support taxes on the wealthiest among us, support stimulus and relief programs so more people don't end up homeless. Read up on homeless and housing issues.
tl;dr: please don’t send me or any other people who are homeless or struggling despicable messages to vent your frustrations with how homelessness is being handled.
And once again, thanks for reading and extensions of kindness. Everyone try to enjoy the sunshine out there a little bit.

Next | Writing Prompt | Author Wiki
Captain Stubbs sat in his command chair, sipping on the cup of coffee Ensign Anderson had (successfully) used to get the Captain to allow her to play with Fluffy the Husky. He looked over the banks of terminals, almost 100 set in 10 tiers, each roughly 3 feet below the the one behind it, with a central walkway allowing travel up and down the bridge. With a glance to the left the Captain could spot the banks of gunners' terminals while a glance to the right held navigation, sensors, communications, active defenses, electronic warfare, damage monitoring, piloting and engineering officers' terminals. Displayed on the screen were 3 ships, one some variety of silver saucer, the next a green, red, and purple whale-looking creature, and the last a white brick with occasional yellow characters painted on the side.
"Comms! Any reply from the encroaching vessels? Mars Command?" Captain Stubbs asked loudly, but calmly.
Comms Officer Bryant replied with a quick "No reply from the unknowns. Mars Command has given the all clear for engaging the unknowns."
"Sensors! Information on the unknowns!?"
Sensors Officer Hagan shouted "Vessels look to be cruiser class, lightly armored with high acceleration. What armor they do have seems to be single focus, with their weaponry matching what the armor is effective against. Hostile 1 appears to be armed with tightbeam, multi-spectrum lasers and reflective armor. Hostile 2 appears to be organic, with scans indicating small pockets of defensive spines and shock absorbent armor with a thick film. Guessing the spines are either missiles or some kind of point defense. Hostile 3 appears to have some variety of magnetic cannons without a loading mechanism, guessing high density, magnetized plasma, with thick, conductive armor and a generous coating of carbon-based ablatives."
"Any escorts?"
"No Captain. A small fleet of spacecraft are holding back. My guess is those are support ships or observers."
"Defenses! Activate point defense lasers. Ready kinetics, but only fire them if the lasers are overwhelmed. Pilot and Navigation! Line up the spinal on hostile 3. Hold fire till we are within 2 second hit time. Gunnery! Ready the plasma and heavy laser turrets, targeting hostile 2, firing the moment they're within range. Ready the torpedoes with hostile 1 as the target, pathed to be at least 1 light second away from hostile 2 as long as their fuel allow, firing at will."
A small stream of "Yes Captain!"s echoed through the bridge as the defense frigate UMC New America started to shake slightly as it began combat manuevers, its spinal railgun lining up with the white block of a ship. Out of the sides of the small warship launched a single volley of missiles, arching away from the battlefield as the New America began slowly accelerating.
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"Unknown vessel, this is Kesselfoor Kelsuun. You are trespassing in Hesmanformic Union space. Surrender or integrate peacefully unless you seek to taste the Union's wrath!" Announced a creature that was a pair of undersized feet connected to a torso without a discernable head, or neck, all being held up by a pair of massive arms that ended in three fingered hands, the knuckles of which rested on the ground.
The bridges of the Union ships were silent as they waited for a response from the strange, slow, overly armored tube to respond. After [several minutes], the small space tube began to turn towards Granag's ship, a volley of flaming rods launching from the sides of the ship, then streaking off to the craft's side.
"Ah, a missile user. Granag, the missiles' paths suggest they are aiming for you. Move your ship close to me, we'll protect you from them. Kelsuun, you'll either want to stay close enough for my ship to protect yours or move in and slag their ship before they can load a second volley." Stated a small, reddish yellow, chitinous creature with 12 slimy tentacles erupting from where its legs should be.
"Will do, Atall." Answered Granag, a large, six legged black lizard, its saucer like ship moving close to Atall's bioship.
"Moving to engage. I'm seeing a hole on the front of the unknown. Atall, what would a missile user need that for?" Kelsuun said as his white brick of a ship began rapidly accelerating.
"Watch that hole for any launches. It's likely a heavy missile or an unguided torpedo. Inaccurate and hard to use, but high yield." Replied Atall, launching two volleys of her bioship's living missiles.
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"Sensors, update!" Captain Stubbs commanded.
Sensors Officer Hagan replied "Hostile 1 is taking cover within hostile 2's predicted flak zone. Hostile 3 is charging head on. Navigation reports 3 minutes till hostile 3 is in specified attack range. Hostile 2 is firing a volley of... missiles, I believe. Estimate, 2 minutes till missile impact."
"Maintain current orders."
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Atall kept her tendrils on the observer interface, watching for anymore oddities with the unknown. The slowness of the vessel's movements suggested significant impact plating, which would explain their focus on lining up their torpedo tube. An odd offense/defense set for missile users, but not unheard of. The heavy armor did mean that, despite the unknown's small size, her living missiles would need to repeatedly strike the same spot to get enough acid to burn through the plating, though a good shot, or two, from Kelsuun's ship could easily burn a hole through the impact plating.
The initial volley from the unknown was finally close enough, so Atall launched her interception organisms. They streaked away after the enemy missiles, destroying most, but not all. Atall cringed slightly as Granag's ship took 3 solid hits.
"Granag, you still there?" Asked Atall.
"Yes, still here. Two banks of anti-fighter lasers were hit as well as the mess hall." Replied the black lizard, ignoring the orange lighting of the bridge.
"What did the missiles do?"
"One of them exploded on impact, breached the hull and exposed the mess hall to vacuum. The other two penetrated before exploding, one reacting an anti-fighter array controller, the other reaching the power supply of the second damage anti-fighter array."
Curling back into her seat with her tendrils no longer on the observer interface, Atall tried to grasp the use of varied missiles in a single volley. The penetrating ones were obviously how they made the light missiles to counter the impact plating the unknowns seemed to favor, but what could the impact missiles be meant to do? Maybe they were anti-fighter? No, the yield was too high. After a few more moments, an idea hit Atall. The impact missiles were made to crater the impact plating, that way the penetrating missiles could penetrate further into the ship.
Atall bit one of her tendrils in annoyance for not realizing such an effective counter to the heavy impact armor. It did make those missiles a fair threat, but the battlefield was still heavily in the Union's favor.
Placing her tendrils back onto the observer interface, Atall watched as Kelsuun closed in on the unknown. If what she had just learned about the unknown's method of overcoming their armor, then the torpedo tube was likely to launch an impact explosive followed by a penetrating explosive, both of high enough yield to cripple Kelsuun's ship. However, with how slow the unknown was, Atall doubted Kelsuun would have trouble evading the small ship's heavy ordinance.
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"Captain, sensors report 3 hits on hostile 1, minor damage. Enemy volley estimated to enter flak range in 15 seconds." Sensors Officer Hagan shouted into the bridge.
"Captain, 1 mike, 30 seconds till hostile 3 is in specified attack range." Shouted Navigation Officer Bowes.
Captain Stubbs sat back as his crew did their jobs, each officer and gunner acting like a bee in the hive, doing their own job, but getting everything done together. Just how Stubbs liked it. He looked at the view screen in the front of the bridge, which was now displaying several "windows." The first show the missiles as they approached and suddenly exploded into greenish yellow clouds, the point defense lasers having done their job. The second showed hostile 1, the light damage obvious in the missing spots of reflective armor. The third, hostile 2 launching a much larger volley than the first. The fourth was hostile 3 on approach, with the distance in light seconds displayed in the corner of its window. The rest of the windows were filled with diagnostics and sensor information, though Stubbs did prefer to have his officers relay such information themselves.
"Captain, hostile 3 has entered specified attack range. Firing!" Shouted Bowes.
"Sensors confirmed hit. Repeat, confirmed hit. Heavy damage, but enemy is still in fighting shape." Hagan announced.
Stubbs watched the window that displayed hostile 3. One moment the ship was intact, then a fourth of its white block was floating off into space and a metal brick could be seen beneath, with flames and drifting crew spitting out of the damaged side of the metal brick. Stubbs took a sip from his coffee as hostile 3 fired back, launching a barrage of bright blue-white plasma in small, dense lances. The New America shook as the lances hit, the calm blue of the ship diagnostics window erupting with yellow splotches and a single spot of red.
"Damage report!" Stubbs commanded.
"Armor panel sections 3, 12, 13, 16, and 33 have lost ablatives, thermal gel layer held. Point defense cannon 6 has been disabled... maintenance reports it was fused. No internal systems damage." Damage Officer Patterson reported.
"Spinal cannon ready to fire, adjusted for second shot!" Shouted Navigation Officer Bowes.
"FIRE!" Stubbs replied.
The New America shook again as hostile 3 shattered down the center line, quickly turning from ship to debris field.
"Piloting, navigation, manuever to attack hostile 1."
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Atall watched as the missiles she launched erupted into acid clouds far enough away that the acid wouldn't be dense enough to harm the unknown craft. That didn't make sense though. The enemy was a missile user and their armoweaponry combo didn't align with anything more than a point defense missile system and maybe a basic electronic warfare system, but living missiles wouldn't have predetonated to an electronic warfare system. It almost looked like lasers, but Atall had never seen lasers designed to be fast enough to destroy that many missiles at once. After all, lasers aren't an effective defense against lasers.
Then a bright flash erupted from the unknown and almost a third of Kelsuun's ship floated off into space.
"Kelsuun! What in the 20 Tentacled One happened!?" Atall nearly shouted into the communication interface.
The arm walking torso replied with "Kinetic! They hit us with a kinetic! We're firing back!"
Kelsuun's ship fired the three remaining plasma lance cannons that could target the unknown. What Atall saw when the lances hit horrified him. Outside of some slight discoloration, the unknown appeared to have been entirely unharmed by the attack. It showed none of the expected mass damage that a missile user should have taken after being hit directly by even a single plasma lance cannon. Then, it fired its spinal weapon a second time and Kelsuun's ship became little more than a navigation hazard.
After all the horror the unknown launched on the considerably larger ship Kelsuun commanded, it began turning and maneuvering towards Atall and Granag.
"Atall, launch all your missiles and get out of here! I'll use them as cover and attack! Protect the merchants and get them out to safety if my attack fails!" Granag shouted over the comms channel.
Atall launched all her missiles without argument. She didn't have another plan, and if the unknown used lasers to defend against missiles, then Granag only needed to worry about whether he could damage the unknown.
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"Captain, hostile 2 has launched a tight volley of missiles and hostile 1 has disappeared in the missile wall's sensor profile! Hostile 2 appears to be fleeing." Announced Sensors Officer Hagan.
"Gunnery, ready plasma turrets and fire when we can see hostile 1 again! Pilot, line us up so that we have maximum point defense against that missile wall! Defenses, open up with the gatlings and ready the lasers to fire once the missiles are in range." Captain Stubbs ordered, finishing off his coffee.
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As Atall's ship fled, she watched the unknown begin launching what looked like light kinetic weapons into her missile wall. The effect was immediate, the moment the kinetics hit the missile wall it started exploding into a field of acid.
"Granag, what is your status?" Atall nervously asked.
"I'm taking damage, but it's small and minor." Granag replied.
Atall was forced to watch as not a single missile was able to reach the unknown, but a damaged Granag did. It was, at the time, a beautiful sigh to watch the dotted saucer come upon the side of the unknown. It was, until Atall was forced to watch Granags attacks cause the unknown to merely spit out a shimmering mist from every struck piece of armor.
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Captain Stubbs smiled as he watched the window that displayed hostile 1 erupt in bright green, several secondary explosions distributing the cruiser across the local space.
"Sensors, status!" Called out Stubbs.
Sensors Officer Hagan replied with "Hostile 2 is fleeing, along with the support ships."
"Do not pursue. Sensors, keep an eye on them as they flee. Everyone else, good job today. Drinks are on me when we return to port."
Cheers echoed through the bridge as one of the doors to the bridge awkwardly opened to a female in a black officers uniform, who looked up slightly confused as she rubbed down her uniform with a lint roller.
"Ensign Anderson, do you still have that lunar chocolate coffee roast?" Captain Stubbs asked while holding his coffee mug off to his right.
Anderson walked from the door over to the Captain's right side as she said "Yes, Captain."
"Get me another cup and you'll get another hour to play with Fluffy."
"YES SIR, CAPTAIN SIR!" Anderson shouted, bouncing and grabbing the Captain's coffee mug.
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Kesselfoor Atall stood before the 12 councilors of the Hesmanformic Union, her tendrils nervously rubbing against her back chitin plate. Each of the councilors stared down from their massive black chairs on elevated platforms. At the center sat 2 chairs, one holding the councilor of Atall's species and the other an angered member of Kelsuun's species.
"Kesselfoor Atall, your advice on the weapons, armor and stratagems of missile using species killed Kesselfoor Kelsuun and Kesselfoor Granag. What have you to say!?" Announced the angered, headless knuckle walker.
"I respectfully remind you that over the course of the battle, we identified missile, kinetic, laser, and plasma weapons along with armor that was capable of taking both plasma and laser weaponry as well as defending against large swarms of missiles. We had no means to attack the vessel, but it have every means to attack us." Atall spoke, false confidence covering up her horror of having to remember the battle.
"IT WAS A SMALLER THAN THE SHIPS YOU FOUGHT WITH, AND YOU HAD THREE OF THEM!"
"The unknown vessel was little more than a tube made of armor with any weapons they could fit strapped onto it. It was something no species, up until this point, has encountered. It only needed to sustain a single attack from any of our ships, because it could use the most effective weapon against our various armors. It only needed one attack to properly destroy any of our ships, and we couldn't deliver the same treatment to it."
"Kesselfoor Atall, were you able to identify any weaknesses?" Calmly asked the tentacled insect councilor.
"Yes councilor. The unknown craft had limited acceleration and was unable to give chase to even the merchant ships."
"If this unknown should be hostile, do you have any ideas on how to harm it?"
"The best I can recommend is overwhelming them with a large number of smaller ships and hoping that enough concentrated fire could overwhelm their armor systems. The biggest objective of such an attack is to get as many weapons firing on a single section of armor as possible to avoid giving the ship enough time to fire back."
"You may leave now, Kesselfoor Atall. Thank you clarifying the situation."
"Very well, councilor." Atall said before she exited the Council's chamber.
"Well, Councilor Yolree, do you have a plan? How could we deal with such a possible foe?" Asked a lesser councilor that looked like a texas longhorn with the teeth of a lion and the limbs of a kangaroo.
"We will send scouts. If their ships are as slow as Kesselfoor Atall suggests, then our scouts should be able to avoid conflict. After we have gathered some proper information on these unknowns, we will try to make peace. If we cannot not, we will have to try several new tactics. As more information becomes available, we will send it to the Bureau of Space Tactics."
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