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We didn't have buckets or spades, making our way down to the beach. All we were doing was walking, apparently holding on to nothing, from where we'd parked the car, up top by a little sign that indicated the way down to the seaside. It's not a huge flashing neon thing, that sign, and there are no ice cream vans or hot dogs lining the quiet little roads it points you along .
I think that's right.
My wife, and the kids, they know that this isn't a normal outing, for me, but I haven't properly told them why. I will always regret that. A bit. I'm learning to let things go. But I gave them no chance to help me. They could have 'held my hand'.
Not far from the sea, my wife fell. No way would I add a detail like that into this particular set of words, for effect. She truly did. Off the road, by a ditch, in grass. The kids were upset, a little alarmed. You don't want that kind of thing happening to the most important person in your whole life.
That was hard. But she got up, and we pressed on.
I was walking a bit ahead, past the museum, when we finally got down to the front. My wife and son had stopped to look at a house that wasn't there. It had been deliberately removed, according to the sign they'd been reading, that my wife quietly told me about, after they'd caught me back up. I'd needed to be told, because you don't always notice a house that's only significant by its absence
What's a house, after all. If it is obstructing a sightline? At Omaha, it's nothing.
There's a memorial. And there's the beach itself. I don't think I went on that sand, but I can't even remember. I don't think I went onto the sand at Gold beach, either. Whereas I did, at Utah.
Arromanches is odd, out of all of those. On Gold. Because, of all things, the powers that be didn't want to mess it up, maybe partly because they wanted to to put a Mulberry harbour on to it, as a result of which that particular section of Gold wasn't claimed, by the allies, until June 7th, when they kind of went back for it. The other Mulberry was planned for here. Omaha.
The Mulberrys were going to be vital, because there wasn't much certainty of grabbing hold of an actual port, intact, at any speed, and the challenge of that had already been disastrously proved at Dieppe, the like of which was never to be repeated.
They hoped. When the boats went out from Portsmouth, and all over. They hoped.
I don't intend to try and describe what those ships were heading towards, with all of those men crammed on board, in various states of excitement and unease, and seasickness, in the rough weather that had almost been too rough for the window of possibility, but not quite. I don't have the tools.
Dante might have tried it. And as for the cold details, historians have rightly done what needed to be done, it's all there. Somehow, almost yard by yard. That's all I'm going to directly say, about the pain part of those forever grains, and accompanying learning, to date.
We went to the museum. And to a cafe, overlooking the memorial, and neither of those places were anything which might not be somewhere else. In the museum, they showed some black and white film of the landing craft, heading for shore, and then men coming off. Or not. That was when the kids saw. Only then, for a few brief stunned moments.
It's still different for them, though, because of me with a dad born in 1929, and the kids with a mum born in 1966.
_ _ _
In the afternoon, same day, we went to Sainte-Mere-Eglise. Where there's a church, with a parachute hung over it, and a different museum. The airborne side, of Overlord. The biggest amphibious landing, in history. Pray, it always will be.
John Steele, an American paratrooper, was caught up on the roof of that church, that June night. Dangling, from a parachute like the one that's there now. Not dead, just suspended. He could do nothing, hanging there, except watch his compatriots, and their enemies, down on the ground. Not a show I'd want to witness, in that way.
If anyone does want a kind of a show, then there's three I can mention. 'The Longest Day', 'Saving Private Ryan' and the severally episoded 'Band of Brothers'. I would guess that it's possible to argue against the existence of any or all of those representations, but I would be on the side of them staying. I think they are wholly decent. They use effects, they maybe mess things around a little, but on the whole they, in their way, look to show, and to tell. Please, never again.
I went into the museum. My second of the day. I left my wife and kids to (finally) get ice cream - where they could buy whatever they needed, in any of those shops or bars that are completely awash with gratitude, so many years after. The same tributes as I remembered being moved by at Arromanches. Liberty. Thank you.
Despite everything. Thank you.
We should have all gone into that museum together, like at Omaha. But there was a comment, in the car. 'Another museum?'
Maybe two in a day is a bit much, but it was a shame because the second one was better. Maybe the one at Omaha is falling over itself not to make mistakes? With the one I went to alone, the message was clearer. Set out in ways that people could easily work with. Not gory, but efficiently engaging.
They would have been fine with it. They would have grasped the whole thing, a bit better. But they have whole lives, to discover it, or not. Whole lives.
_ _ _
When I went to Utah, it was early one morning, alone. Utah is solemn, but there is also something somehow more matter of fact, about what happened there, which is a crazy kind of a way to regard it. Mostly, at Utah, it worked to script. One of the memorial emplacements is of men running unimpeded off an opened up landing craft, almost as if into possibility. Even along the approach road, you drive through towns that had Shermans rolling through them quite early on during the very first day of local freedom. It really is almost a relief. Walk along by the waves. Give thanks, on a nice new day.
_ _ _
I should probably say a little bit about how I ever came to make these visits.
The 'American' beaches became accessible to me because we were on a family holiday, staying not far from Carentan. (Carentan was a big objective, in the D-Day plans, and near to Carentan was 'Bloody Gulch', and these are places where it was touch and go, and where those same tanks from Utah were argued as vital, and the importance of getting the Mulberry up and running on Omaha has often been underlined in regard to that whole area, so it turned out to be a fairly immersive experience, no matter where we went.)
Oh, and the trip to Gold was on a separate holiday, years before. We went to that beach, all of us, from a differently composed family, because we were in striking distance. But striking distance, too, of Bayeaux, so there was some dilution, and we didn't dare enter the reconstructed Caen. I don't know, but maybe that's a place where they don't wave the flags so openly, and where entry in 1944 became impossible, being abandoned in favour of obliteration.
This brings me to the close of what I remember, and what I feel fit to describe.
_ _ _
Historians and writers will, in time, work back through all of this, with detached lenses. They may ask some difficult questions, which people might not have wanted to be too loud about asking in, say, 1946. Or even in 1994. Or 2024.
Did there have to be an Omaha? Could the landings have worked, without? Failure to succeed was not imaginable, so running with a gap, at the feeder points for where it all maybe nearly faltered anyway, might not have been a bearable gamble?
But then, was Overlord itself needed? In fact, did Britain, or the US (relative to Europe) ever have to get involved in any of the whole of the second world war, at all? What about Russia? How does Russia, and the historical fear of Russia, possibly fit? There is a way of condensing one small section of history to within a strangely neat 200 year band, from 1789 to 1989, and Russia surely can't be ignored, in all of that, and it never was.
Would Russia have managed, with its famous enormity, and with its ability to move industrial bases out of 1940s reach, to grind down yet another overly ambitious infringement of its borders? And then, if it had, and had fought back and taken the whole of Berlin..?
Questions. But isn't the simple truth that it happened, it can't be undone? Why should these kinds of queries ever be raised, why rake up that pain?
Dangerous, for sure. Because, if anyone was ever to seriously argue that complete avoidance was possible, as with Switzerland, then they would also have to give a supporting argument of some kind as to why in the world anyone would get involved in something like a war, if they didn't in fact need to. And then it breaks into separate sub arguments, about the extent to which the lack of need of a conflict is recognised, and partially ignored (which the UK has form for) or whether the risks one way or another of letting things roll, rather than hopefully making sure of influencing outcomes, can't possibly be accurately calculated in the approaches up to 1939, and even beyond. All of this, of course, would need to be considered in the light of what was properly known up to 1939, and not what was found out about afterwards.
No. Not going there.
_ _ _
A man who's presence I feel very close to, with solid pacifist credentials, found the allied response to Nazi Germany to be a case which was hard to refute. That was my understanding, anyway. This conclusion was not reached, as far as I could see, without nagging reservations. But sometimes, even for those who hate severe violence (and now I am talking about myself) it has to be accepted that not to fight is to choose to be enslaved or to die, and therefore to let the aggressor become master, and/or go free. This may be the case on either an individual or international basis, just the same, but with impossibly different implications. When Japan rained fire on the USA, having declared war after the war had secretly already started, I don't see what other possible response there could have been, right up to the end, with all of its separate questions about reasonable force. So, never say never, is my view, too.
But, again, that's as far as I'm brave enough to go. War in the Pacific, unshakeable. And pacifism, in my view, is brave. When ringing true. Not when used as a lie. The man that I think of, when considering these things, didn't like liars. My take.
_ _ _
To close, and to explain the title. I remember an echoing comment once made about the relationship of the UK to France, compared to the relationship with America. Calais, compared to Boston. Without the Boston element, I don't personally see how Normandy could have worked, and Calais still took a long, long time to take back, even with that help - and Calais had often needed to be reclaimed, from the 'thieving' grasp of someone or other, going way back. When I was very young, it was cool to say that the yanks were irrelevant latecomers, twice over.
Ok, and what if they'd decided never to come at all, to refuse to once again get involved in mending European faultlines? Maybe the roads from the two separate mulberrys to Berlin involved some friction, between the allies, and maybe that came with some awful costs. But, if we were going to do it at all, we needed to do it together, I came to believe.
Not just get thrown back into the water.

"The market is a pendulum that forever swings between unsustainable optimism and unjustified pessimism. The intelligent investor is a realist who sells to optimists and buys from pessimists."

Sir John Templeton

Today, just facts for you. It's a story, but you tell it to yourself.
Busts, Financial Crises, & Market Panics dating from the Middle Ages to present day:

• 1255 - Overexpansion of credit led to banking failures in Italy
• 1294 - Edward I default to the Ricciardi of Lucca during war with France
• 1298 - Seizure of the Gran Tavola of Sienna by Philip IV of France
• 1307 - Liquidation of the Knights Templar by Philip IV
• 1311 - Edward II default to the Frescobaldi of Florence
• 1326 - Bankruptcy of the Scali of Florence and Asti of Sienna
• 1342 - Edward III default to the Florentine banks during the Hundred Years' War
• 1345 - Bankruptcy of the Bardi and Peruzzi; depression, Great crash of the 1340's
• 1380 - Ciompi Revolt in Florence. Crash of the early 1380s
• 1401 - Italian bankers expelled from Aragon in 1401, England in 1403, France in 1410
• 1433 - Fiscal crisis in Florence after wars with Milan and Lucca
• 1464 - Death of Cosimo de Medici: loans called in, wave of bankruptcies in Florence
• 1470 - Edward IV default to the Medici during the Wars of the Roses
• 1478 - Bruges branch of the Medici after the capture of Florence by Charles VIII of France
• 1525 - Siege of Genoa by forces of Spain and the Holy Roman Empire; coup in 1527
• 1557 - Philip II of Spain restructuring of debts inherited by Charles V
• 1566 - Start of the Dutch Revolt against Spain: disruption of Spanish trade
• 1575 - Philip II default: Financial crisis of 1575-79 affected Genoese creditors
• 1596 - Philip II default: Financial crisis of 1596 severely affected Genoese businessmen
• 1607 - Spanish state bankruptcy: failure of Genoese banks
• 1619 - Kipper-und-Wipperzeit: Monetary crisis at the outbreak of the Thirty Years' War
• 1627 - Spanish bankruptcy: collapse of Genoese banks and the Fuggers
• 1637 - End of the Dutch Tulipmania; also, Dutch East India Company shares, canals
• 1646 - French state bankruptcy, eliminated the Italian bankers
• 1652 - Outbreak of the First Anglo-Dutch War: attacks by Britain on Dutch Shipping
• 1666 - Second Anglo-Dutch War: disruption of the Dutch spice fleet
• 1672 - Rampjaar (Disaster Year) in Holland: French/English invasion
• 1696 - English government debt crisis during the Nine Years War against France
• 1705 - English crisis during the War of the Spanish Succession against France
• 1720 - Collapse of the South Sea Bubble in England and Mississippi Bubble in France
• 1761 - English government debt crisis over the Seven Years War against France
• 1769 - Collapse of the Bengal Bubble in East India Company stock
• 1772 - Credit Crisis in London and the American colonies
• 1783 - Economic depression in Britain and America after the Revolutionary War
• 1792 - Boom and bust in the First Bank of the United States after Hamilton's refunding
• 1797 - Land speculation bubble burst. Bank run in england of fear of French invasion
• 1802 - Boom and bust after the Peace Amiens between Britain and France
• 1812 - Outbreak of the War of 1812 between America and Britain
• 1819 - Land bubble burst; bank failures. Tightening by the Second Bank of the US.
• 1825 - Emerging market (Latin America) bubble burst in London
• 1837 - Collapse of bubbles in canals, cotton, and lan; run on banks
• 1847 - Collapse of railway boom in London (following Bank Charter Act)
• 1857 - Global market panic; railway bubble, failure of Ohio Life Co.
• 1866 - Failure of Overend Gurney and Co. in London; banking crisis
• 1869 - Black Friday in New York: collapse of Gould and Fisk gold speculation
• 1873 - Railroad bubble; Jay Cooke failure; end of silver coinage
• 1877 - Great Railroad Strike: Deflation and wage cuts following the Panic of 1873
• 1884 - Tightening by New York City national banks; bank failures in New York
• 1893 - Railroad bubble burst, bank failures, run on gold reserves; Sherman Silver Act
• 1896 - Run on silver reserves; commodity price declines; National Bank of Illinois failure
• 1901 - Cornering of Northern Pacific Railway stock
• 1907 - Bankers' panic: cornering of United Copper Co.; failure of Knickerbocker Trust Co.
• 1910 - Enforcement of Sherman Antitrust Act: break of Standard Oil Co.
• 1913 - Drain of gold reserves to Europe in lead-up to WWI
• 1921 - Depression of 1920-21: demobilization, monetary tightening; severe deflation
• 1929 - Wall Street Crash/Black Tuesday: collapse of 1920s boom
• 1932 - Great Depression through: widespread bank failures
• 1938 - Monetary and fiscal tightening following New Deal: Roosevelt Recession
• 1942 - Response to WWII
• 1948 - Monetary tightening by the Federal Reserve; recession of 1949
• 1953 - Monetary tightening to combat post-Korean War inflation in 1952
• 1957 - Eisenhower Recession: monetary and fiscal tightening to combat inflation
• 1962 - Kennedy Slide/Flash Crash; Cuban Missile Crisis
• 1969 - Nixon Recession: monetary and fiscal tightening to combat inflation and deficit
• 1974 - Oil crisis (OPEC embargo): rising inflation and unemployment; stagflation
• 1979 - Energy crisis (Iranian Revolution): monetary tightening under Paul Volcker
• 1987 - Black Monday: global market crash, collapse of speculative boom
• 1990 - Gulf War: spike in oil price, recession of 1990-1992
• 1994 - Tequila Crisis: Mexico peso devaluation; Federal Reserve rate hikes
• 1998 - Asia crisis (began 1997), Russian default, LTCM failure
• 2001 - Collapse of Dot-com bubble; 9/11 attacks; corporate accounting scandals
• 2008 - Collapse of housing bubble; Global Financial Crisis; Lehaman AIG etc. failures
• 2011 - US debt ceiling crisis and credit rating downgrade; eurozone sovereign debt crisis
• 2015 - End of the Federal Reserve's zero interest rate policy
• 2016 - Brexit
• 2020 - Covid-19 crisis
• 2021 - Ukrainian/Russian War; Inflation crisis; Central Banks monetary tightening; Chinese property crisis

… and yet here we are, living our lavish and privileged lives, with levels of prosperity unmatched by those of our ancestors.
Only this time it's different, right? This time the metrics of the past no longer apply, the booms will boom eternally and the busts will lead us to extinction, right?
Invest, invest, invest.
Know it in your heart and in your mind that crises are unavoidable.
You will lose money every now and then. But in the end, provided:

1. The rights of property and liberty, which have been crystalized in the Magna Carta 800 years ago, and invoked against kings themselves, remain alive as they should.
2. We are not extinct as a species.

... then you will be much richer than today. Just focus on managing risk, diversifying because growth over the long run is unavoidable.
History is inflationary, prosperity over the long run is unavoidable provided there is freedom. Freedom for every individual to own property, express themselves in a craft of their choosing and trade.
Oh and by the way … what is the value of money if any of the above 2 Armageddon scenarios materialize?
Cheers,
Ruben
​
https://www.tenacioustribe.com/a-story-of-booms-busts-the-inevitability-or-prosperity

"Although few would admit it, the truth is that the typical trader wants to be right on every single trade. He is desperately trying to create certainty where it just doesn't exist." - Mark Douglas

This is one of the most important bridges you will need to cross should you want to become a trader.
You know it. You have been there. I have been there.
That trading frame of mind where all you want is to impose your theory, your intellectual superiority to the markets … because you are special and you know something that nobody else knows about the markets.
That trading frame of mind where if the trade goes against you, you just won't take losses until the trades reverses and starts agreeing with your enlightened trading decision.
That trading frame of mind where you feel the need to revise your plan, every time a trade goes against you. When the P&L displays vivid red, so you are wrong, so you think your approach is wrong … so you think there is always a right approach … so you think there's a holy grail out there for the savviest traders to discover.
In the beginning, when you first started trading and this frame of mind appealed to you instinctively, I must say that this was not your fault. Nope.
Why not? Think of your education, your nurturing within your community, society … How many times, in how many instances, have been taught to think of life, business, trade as domains of uncertainty?
The movies you see, the schools you attend … What have your teachers taught you? Right and wrong, black and white. Causation or nothing. Judging your actions by your outcomes … getting top notch grades because you were able to vomit a plethora of data in the right way. Your references … the athletes who achieved the top because of a well narrated story (always in hindsight).
That is not how life works. That is now how trading works. Unlike with math or physics, when you are trading, you are not walking in the realm of certainties of black and white answers. The role of luck, of the unknown is highly underestimated in life and in trading. Nobody knows what tomorrow brings, let alone the next week or next year.
The moment you make peace with this idea will be the moment your trading approach will reach a higher level.
When that moment comes, you will understand that no matter how good your trade was it will always be prone to yield you a negative return.
When that moment comes, you will understand that risk management is the key of the keys of this game … think about it … your next trade can be a losing trade … as a matter of fact for some of the most successful systems it is by default.
When that moment comes you'll be invited by your mind to start thinking probabilistically.
You will realize that your job as a trader is not to be right, your job as a trader is to find your fine balance of aggressive exposure to the possibility of being on the right side of luck, while aggressively shielding yourself to the possibility of being cursed by luck.
Back when you started, thinking in terms of certainties was not your fault. Now that you are no longer a starter … this uncensored mindset will be 100% your responsibility.
Cross that bridge once and for all.
Cheers,
Ruben
​
https://www.tenacioustribe.com/it-is-you-against-the-market-or-is-it

Part 1
Part 2
Part 3
As alternate me drove south, the pop music station switched back to the news channel. Whatever was going to happen in Washington DC in the alternate reality, I was screwed. My heart began to race as I pondered the possibilities. Building smashing would be insane, a creature dump would be the worst thing to get caught up in, an EMP Bubble complete with gassing would be terrifying as hell too, but I guess it would be a quick way to go. The entire city exploding would most likely be quick as well. Either way, and no matter how quick death could be, I didn't want to die at all.
Hopefully a task force made up of various other alternate me's would come rescue me. That's of course probably just a dream in the reality I'm in. For sure there is a team of alternate me's rescuing other alternate me's in some area of the multiverse. It's possible, so it's happening in some set of realities. I hope they come here too.
At around 8 AM, my stomach was rumbling. Luckily, my alternate self got the memo. Unfortunately, her response was cruel.
"Hungry back there? You don't need to eat anyway. It's not going to matter."
I'd probably find something to eat somewhere anyway. Hopefully…
Nothing new came up in the news. It was just talk about the three giants who attacked the UK. Other than that, the news reporters talked about the crashing worldwide economy on account of the Northeast China and Japan EMP Bubbles, the refugees emerging from EMP bubbles and claiming to have seen giants spraying gas on cities and towns, world leaders' reactions to the attacks, and the fall of the CCP, Russia, North Korea, Iran, the UK, Japan, along with the slow torture of the US. The reporters speculated about what the giants may want.
"They're taking out thousands of people in an obviously coordinated way, but we still don't know what they want."
"They for sure want us to be scared, and we definitely are, but yeah, why are they killing certain people who have no proven connection to each other?"
"Maybe that's part of their point. Make us go insane at their uncertainty."
As I browsed the internet, I came across a discussion thread claiming the giants were good because they were destroying all the fascist and flawed democratic governments. The comments of course disagreed, saying killing people is not the answer. It won't end fascism. Curious, I scrolled down to the very bottom to read the least popular comments.
"Yeah.. these giants are transforming this world for the better. Hopefully when their attacks are finished we can rebuild where they helped us out and just be better to each other"
Right… they helped us out… sure.
"Why are people expecting democracy in the aftermath of this? We need stronger leaders who can see past hypocrisy"
Giving people rights means being weak?
And of course… the craziest one.
"These attacks came out of nowhere. How? You're telling me giant titanic beings just popped out of nowhere and nobody had any foreknowledge? The government will do absolutely anything to control their citizens. China has collapsed? North Korea too? Even Iran? Yeah this was coordinated."
Because everyone's psychic and somehow knew beings like these would pop out of nowhere and catch everybody off guard? Also the UK, Canada, and Japan were attacked too. Why would the US attack its own allies? And itself? Especially its own facilities? This must be one of those every elite is a demonic Illuminati puppet theorist.
Hilarious comments aside, it's scary how people can believe just about anything is planned by the government. Demonic giants from who knows where cannot be the fault of any government. But that aside, there was yet another rabbit hole I stumbled down. On an obscure part of Reddit, there was a group who called themselves the Children of Satan's Titans. At first, I thought it was satirical, but as I read their posts, it was clear they were being serious. They thought the giants were bringing on armageddon and that they were supposed to lead the world after all is said and done. They even came up with nicknames for the giants.
The one that attacked Manhattan was the Grim Baron The one that attacked first was the Mother of Destruction for being the first giant to attack The one that forced Justin Trudeau into hiding was Lacertosis The giant duo who first attacked Newmarket and Aurora, Ontario were called the Ignis Duo
…and the list went on. The cult had come up with latin-translation names for each confirmed giant so far. There were 45 confirmed giants.
The car came to a stop. I slid my phone into my pocket and anticipated the worst. The three got out of the car. My alternate self's two cronies opened the trunk and told me to get out and to follow my alternate self or I'd be hit with another dart. I climbed out of the trunk, stepping onto a parking lot. As my alternate self began to walk, I followed. Cars were driving up and down the road, people were walking on the sidewalks. It was pretty busy. That made it even more saddening, as I knew the city was about to be attacked by giants.
"Where are we going?" I asked.
"Don't talk," alternate me said.
My alternate self was such a psycho. But why? What led her to berating every other version of her? How many times has this whole sort of thing happened? It can't be the first time. If it is, then that's a good thing… She isn't very experienced in this… but I can't let optimism cloud my judgment, especially with the pit of dread in my stomach. I was probably going to suffer whether I survived or not.
I want out of this hostel shit.
The three told me to wait outside a Starbucks. As I stood outside, I checked Reuters for some updates on the attacks. Interestingly, there weren't any. Once the three walked back out, we continued walking.
Over the following ~two hours, the three took me on a tour of the city. However, it was more of a goodbye tour, with my alternate self making snarky comments at every tourist attraction. I'll just list the stuff she said and the places we went to.
When we stopped in front of the White House…
"See this magnificent building here? It's about to be swarmed by a mass of wild creatures. Hope the president makes it out alive."
When we walked by the Smithsonian National Museum…
"All the lovely stuff in there is going to be torn to pieces"
When we walked by the Washington Monument…
"Creatures are going to scale that thing looking for guts to eat"
When we walked by the Capitol Building…
"Creatures this time, and 100 times worse"
When we walked by the Supreme Court of the United States…
"Ever wanted to cut the court in half? Well here we are"
When we walked by the National Academy of Sciences…
"New stuff to put in science books. History books even. Imagine if you had a 21st Century history book and could know how the rest of this century unfolds for this timeline."
While her comments were presented as if they were light, they creeped me the hell out. She was joking about my likely death and reminding me of all the terrible things that were about to happen. What kept me most on edge was the uncertainty of when the creatures would be dumped. There being no updates about the attacks gave me a calm before the storm vibe too. I began to jump at the sight of dogs running by. The Ian and Billy behind me couldn't stop giggling each time.
At the end of the tour, my alternate self led me to what at first looked like the entrance to a subway train station. It was called Dupont Underground. Alternate me led me down some concrete stairs and stopped at a door. She turned to me while pulling her phone out.
"I'm going to show you something from a different reality," she said, with a sinister look in her eyes. "This timeline, but one month from now."
She tapped around for a minute, then she held her phone in front of my eyes. A video was playing. The camera operator walked down a deserted city road. Every car was stalled in the middle of the road with shattered windows and some had huge body dents. I saw the Dupont Underground sign and realized it was the street we were on. The camera operator took a right down the concrete steps. At the bottom was a body covered in blood and fleshy holes. The camera operator walked up to the body and zoomed in on its face. I recognized her. It couldn't be. But it probably was.
"This is you after having your guts sucked out by creatures," alternate me said.
My heart sank. An odd eeriness overtook me. That was me. Dead. My unmoving body laying on the ground. I was looking at my own corpse. I had never seen a dead alternate version of me before. That was about to be me. Technically it was an alternate version of me, but it mirrored what was going to happen to me. I shivered with dread.
"I… I'm…… I'm going to be eaten alive"
"Oh suck it up," alternate me said.
"Yeah," Ian added.
"Don't cry too much," Billy added.
"Don't cry?" I asked. "I was shown my fate you shit!"
"And there's no way to avoid it," alternate me said. "Now, we're taking you for another walk. This time, just a stroll."
"What is the point exactly?" I asked.
"Exercise," alternate me shrugged.
My alternate self took me on a long walk up north. She didn't say a word to me. Neither did Billy or Ian. I made sure to keep my mouth shut, anxious I'd be taken into a back alley and be injected with fire ants of all things. After an hour of walking, I became exhausted. My knees felt like they were going to snap, I was sweating all over, and my breaths were shallow. My stomach began to ache from not eating. I was still too anxious to talk. We went to a McDonald's, but alternate me told me I wasn't allowed to have anything. She had to have been taunting me.
We walked north for another exhaustive aching hour. I was thirsty as fuck. We stopped at a convenience store where alternate me gave me a water bottle. It wasn't something I expected, but I guess he did it just so I wouldn't faint from heat exhaustion. It made the following hour of walking refreshing, but my stomach was still numb. At least we were walking back though. But it dawned on me that it only meant my death was closer than ever. The pit of dread in my stomach deepened, distracting me from the numbness in my stomach. There was a hint of sadness behind every thought I had. I played a song in my head as I continued to follow behind my alternate self. The songs I heard in the Creature Dump Aftermath footage. Just me playing the memory I had of them back in my head calmed me down a bit. For the following hour after that, I anticipated the moment where my legs would just give out. The three psychos would have to understand, but they probably wouldn't… and so I just kept walking, hoping my legs wouldn't give out.
After four hours of walking, I could see the White House right up ahead. I needed a break. I thought it was over, but then we began circling the freaking Washington strip.
I thought I could give out in a place where there were no back alleyways or any place of the sort. I'd get quite a bit of attention. Maybe too much for my alternate self to handle even with two others. But I'd still be in the city… damnit. There was no way I could run either, being exhausted like hell.
Finally, after circling the Washington strip a tenth time, my alternate self told me I could sit down on a nearby park bench, but that I still couldn't eat. I took the offer and rested on the empty bench. Euphoria was all I felt for a good minute, then my adrenaline went back up.
She's letting me rest. Finally… Yes…. I'm going to die but this is worth it right now, even though it really isn't.
"Alright, now I'm going to show you something you're going to want to see," Billy said.
Oh god… another horrific video… I assume.
She held her phone in front of my eyes. It was a private Instagram live stream featuring two men who looked around my age.
"Hello, Nicole," said the one on the left. "This is your cousin, Sam."
"I'm your cousin Markus," said the one on the right.
They're my cousins? Oh, okay. What are they doing?
"We're in a room in the Niagara Falls Observatory," Sam said. "We aren't allowed to come out. We don't know why."
"We don't know who put us in here," Markus said. "Just two girls. One looked very similar to you… Your doppelganger I guess."
A boom echoed from somewhere off camera.
"What was that?" Markus asked.
Multiple booms began echoing from somewhere offscreen, getting louder and louder and louder. Sam and Markus both looked to their right. The booming stopped. A crashing noise echoed from above, followed by an avalanche-like rumble. Sam and Markus looked up, then the stream ended.
Billy navigated to a YouTube livestream of CTV news helicopter footage. A giant was looking around as missiles struck it. But a background detail caught my eye. The Falls.
What the fuck…? did she just show me a live stream of my cousins' deaths? What the hell…?
She skipped back a minute. The giant smashed the tower down, creating a plume of smoke.
Uhhhhh…
"I hope they treated you well," she said.
"Nicole?!" I shouted at my alternate self, who was standing a meter away from Billy. "That's too far!"
"It was my idea," Billy said with a huge smile on her face.
"You're a fucking psycho!" I shouted and stood up. "Were they from this timeline or my own?!"
Billy stood there with her hand on her hip, continuing to smirk. "I'm not telling you," she said. She turned around and walked away. Ian and my alternate self followed.
"Where are you going?" I shouted.
"Have fun," alternate me said as she walked away.
The three walked out of my sight. I stared on, once again wondering what the hell made them so psychotic. They're just evil versions of people. That's all I knew.
I checked the time. 6:35 PM. I sat down and teared up. I was about to be eaten by wild gut sucking creatures. A girl just executed my cousins.
I'm still trapped in this dark reality.
At least I won't have to deal with those three ever again… or anybody…
How painful is it going to be? I don't want to go out in pain… but it looks like that's going to happen.
There's no way I can get out of here before the creatures come. At least, I assume so. Wait… what if my alternate self gave me enough time to get out of DC, but wanted me to think she left me alone because the creatures would be here in a matter of minutes after he left? I was probably overthinking, but I'm not going to take that chance. I need to get out of here while I can.
I trekked in a random direction. South. I wasn't going anywhere near Dupont Underground. My heart sank at the thought of being there. But I wasn't going to stop without eating. I marched into a convenience store and bought anything I could, then I found a park bench and ate everything I had just bought. I was met with some acid reflux in my mouth due to my guts clenching at the idea I may be overthinking alternate me's possible plan, but other than that, I stomached it pretty well.
But as I was eating, I overheard a conversation a couple of people were having.
"So you think this is the end of the world?"
"Maybe. I wouldn't be surprised at this point."
A little kid began balling their eyes out.
"Mommy, he said the world is going to end!"
"The world isn't going to end… It's just going to be… changed. Different."
"Did you hear about the cluster attacks though? They're going for specific people for sure. I can't wait for this stuff to be figured out," an older voice said.
"Cluster attacks?"
"Yeah those giants hit over 6000 houses and apartment buildings all over the world around an hour ago," the older voice explained.
"Where did you hear that?"
"The news. It's crazy."
"I heard there was an attack in Pittsburgh, but not much information was given about it."
"I haven't heard anything about that attack."
None of them know… I hope they're driving out of the area right about now.
As I walked by a short orange building, an overbearing presence struck me.
"Oh no, oh god," I whispered to myself. "I hope that's all in my head."
The cars driving up the road in my direction slowed and people walking in my direction looked up. Some of them began pointing. Dread overtook me to the point I decided to stop walking. I froze. If the next creature dump was happening in seconds, I was screwed.
I kept walking, avoiding my curious urge to look where everyone was looking. Two people turned around and ran. The roaring of car motors began to get faster. I took a glance behind me. My heart stopped. Two giants stood some miles away, holding giant sack-like objects. The two giants tilt the sacks and thousands upon thousands of wild creatures fell out. As the creatures rained down, I turned my head back in the direction I was headed in and sprinted down the sidewalk.
Where do I go?
The river. Can the creatures swim? I'll take any chances.
I ran down the sidewalk, in the direction one of the rivers was in. The adrenaline was peaking. I couldn't think about anything other than survival. I ran through a small park, navigating the benches and people frozen in fear. I crossed the next street without looking at the traffic lights, I nearly tripped over chairs, I almost bumped into people running from my right. I ran that way for seven blocks straight, almost being hit by a car three times. I carefully navigated across a main street. As I crossed the street, air raid sirens began to blair from all directions. I found a one way road to my left and just sprinted for my life.
Hopefully the river is close.
At the end of the road was a parking lot. Nobody was there. I sprinted across it until I found a trail. Down the trail, I saw the river. Boats too. I ran along the trail and saw a spot away from the boats to jump into the water. A couple explosions shook the ground beneath me as I ran. I hopped over the fence and jumped into the water.
I swam until I got to the middle of the river. I glanced around. Everything seemed calm and normal in all directions until a loud bang hit my right ear. I looked to my right and saw a cloud of smoke rising from a triple arched bridge in the distance. People jumped off the bridge and landed in the river below. The air raid sirens continued to blair as fighter jets flew by in the distance. I just needed to stay in the river until the creature invasion blew over.
I looked to my right and saw two creatures crawl across the building beside the parking lot I ran through. Three creatures ran onto the pier. The adrenaline worsened.
Time to find out if these beasts can swim.
They ran around and jumped onto some of the boats. A painful scream echoed from one of them. A man was stumbling around with a creature attached to his head and stomach. He pulled on its tentacles, but they held their grasp. He nudged himself sideways into the water. Seconds later, the creature started squirming around in the water, with its tentacles flailing about. I shivered. It was a terrifying sight. The man floated on the surface, shaking his head and moving his arms as if he were a bird. Soon the creature stopped moving and just floated in one spot like a dingy.
I'm good. But how long will it be until the military clears them? I'll just have to wait.
Explosions, gunshots, and emergency sirens from every direction, along with the roar of fighter jets flying overhead, were all I could hear. I couldn't hear the waves washing up against my own ears, or the sound of my own voice. I decided to play those songs in my head again to pass the time. I played other songs in my head too, all while hoping some soldiers would see me, then rescue me.
After a good amount of time in the water, the sounds of explosions seemed to be concentrated on an area to the north. I could only speculate it was the government strip. I looked to my right again and noticed a dozen creatures were occupying the pier.
This wasn't getting better anytime in the next hour. Hopefully I'll be in the clear soon. Once I am, I need to make sure my alternate self cannot find me.
At one point, I woke up to me being pulled out of the water by some Marines. They put me on a boat and asked me some questions, then they gave me some water. After the rescue, they took me to a refugee camp somewhere in southern Virginia. I was given food, water, and my own little room with a bunk bed. I sat down on the bed, hoping I'd be safe from the creatures. I unzipped my pocket and pulled out my phone to read up on the creature dump in Washington DC. These were the top headlines on CNN, for those curious:
"WILD CREATURES OCCUPY DC METRO AREA"
"All branches of the US Armed Forces are responding to the attack on Washington - Yes, even the Space Force as the US speculates the giants are of extraterrestrial origin"
"Images from above: the White House, US Capitol moderately damaged by wild creatures"
"Five major politicians, 2 billionaires, and 1 celebrity confirmed dead in Washington DC after Creature Dump"
""Nuclear weapons aren't likely to be used, but they have not been ruled out""
"Pennsylvania, Virginia set up refugee camps for predicted mini-flood of refugees from EMP-striken, gassed parts of Ohio, Kentucky, and West Virginia"
"Global Recession: Why economists are torn on whether or not the economy will return to pre-attack levels"
"Refugees from Florida EMP Bubbles: "We went into town after the gassing and we saw people and animals on the ground, everywhere""
""We need FEMA" EMP Bubble refugees who are staying in their states criticize their state governments for not declaring an emergency"
"MILITARY: There's no way to protect any type of technology from an EMP Bubble"
A guy with brown hair who looked to be in his early 20s walked into the room. He introduced himself as my roommate. We talked about the attacks and their potential ramifications.
"I don't know what's next for the world," I said. "I'm scared."
"We're going to be at war for a while," he said. "Good vs bad. We need to ready ourselves for what's to come. Everything is different now."
"I mean, at this point, I'd just end it if I didn't feel like I had a chance to survive this new world," I said. "Especially being in the initial attacks… I thought about ending it a few times."
"So you're a coward?" He asked.
"What do you mean?"
"Why would you leave people behind to suffer?"
"I'm not the one making them suffer"
"Yes you are… by killing yourself… people want you around…"
"Dude… nobody owns me. Do you think I'm a slave or something? People shouldn't be relying on others for their happiness."
"You are so stupid"
"Are you that entitled? Do you feel you need to treat people like entertainment animals? People are individuals. They're not your Mom's nipples either."
"I just… can't with selfish people like you"
"Honestly, if you can't respect others' choices and call victims cowards, you're just like the monsters and their little gut eating creatures."
"I don't understand why you'd support selfish people," he said. "You're like my ex-girlfriend."
"Maybe if you respected her individualism more, accepted the fact that mental health issues exist, talked about and validated her issues, she wouldn't have done it."
"Oh, okay, so you're okay with what those Empire State Building jumpers did?"
"Yes," I said. "They acted on survival instincts. It was either get eaten or jump."
"A real person would fight!"
"Survival instincts don't exist to you, do they?"
"I'm not talking to you, man," he said, climbing up to his bunk.
He had me until the victim blaming. Anyway, I went back to reading the news and reminded myself I'm not responsible for other people. Sometime after that, I went to sleep. Sometime later, I woke up to the sound of gunshots and shouting. I looked out the window. Two of those hideous creatures crawled by. I closed the curtains. I checked the news, hoping there wasn't another creature dump nearby.
"A COUPLE DOZEN WILD CREATURES REPORTED OUTSIDE DC METRO AREA"
"US East Coast on high alert as wild creatures make it past military checkpoints around DC Metro Area"
"Security video from Philadelphia captures creature that came from DC Metro area"
""V-BASCBHOB-TJCPSZAMDLSA-IKPJJ-HBCHLL" The FBI is investigating the string of letters scratched into the Washington Monument by the creatures"
"OPINION: After a week of teasing, it's the US' turn to fall"
I want out of this painful chaotic dark reality. Maybe there's a slip nearby. It probably wouldn't take me back to my home reality, but anything would be better than this. I've been to dark realities, like one where there was a third world war in the 1960s followed by a fourth world war in the 2010s, in which technology was a bit more advanced, but Eastern Europe and the Eastern United States were irradiated. There was a darker reality where giants attacked multiple metropolitan areas around the world. EMPs were used, but they weren't EMP Bubbles. People were crying, hoping their friends were okay. It was more mysterious, with every initial attack happening within the darkened areas. It started in New Zealand, South Korea, and Japan. Then it spread west to the US in about a day.
Something heavy banged on the door. Shit… I opened the window, clawed the screen apart, and climbed out. I stepped onto the grass, then I sprinted away. I needed to find the gate. It was probably guarded, but I could find a way somehow. Not to sound too optimistic.
The gate was up ahead. There were three dead soldiers lying on the ground around it. After navigating my way through it, I sprinted across the street and into a dense forest.
Half an hour into running, my knees became weak again. I sat down up against a tree to catch my breath. I must've relaxed for a bit too long, as I essentially just blinked and the sun was shining and birds were chirping. I checked the time. 8:02 AM. I checked the news. There were no new updates.
Where do I go now?
There was no place for me to go that I knew of. Slips weren't extremely common. They weren't active 24/7 either. Until I found one, I had to deal with the possibility of being crushed, gassed, or eaten. I didn't expect my alternate self to find me. I was outside of the DC Metro area. To him, I could be anywhere.
Unless of course she tapped my phone… but she most likely would've shown up by now if he had. Knowing me, he probably would've gone to a reality where I famously snuck out of the refugee camp and my steps were publicly retraced, then he'd use that information to find me. Looks like I just need to walk in a direction that is almost one I'd go in but is not one I'd go in, in this situation. I chose to walk in the direction of the ocean.
As I walked, a bird flew right by me. I watched it fly away, then vanish out of thin air.
Yes!
I went over to the spot with a good adrenaline rush coming on. I pulled out my phone and pulled up Reuters. I refreshed the page. The headlines were still about the giants. I walked back and forth once a minute for some time, clamping the leaves to the ground in the process. The headlines were the same. I was desperate, but I dreaded my alternate self finding me. I layed on the dirty ground, letting the leaves brush against my hair. Every few minutes or so, I'd refresh the page and there would still be news about the giants. I wanted to be home, where everything is safe, peaceful, and quiet compared to this place. I didn't want to hear another boom or a certain growl again.
A number of minutes later, I checked the news again.
"Russia warns US over Black Sea drone flights"
"No path to peace: 5 key takeaways from Xi and Putin's talks in Moscow"
"Russian soldier accused of war crimes in absentia after audio files intercepted"
There was nothing about the giant attacks. The headlines were normal again! I slipped! But did I slip into the right reality? A safe one?
I Googled the attacks. Only movie scenes and recaps came up. I had to be home. I had to be far away from wherever my alternate self was. My heart dropped for a second as I realized one of those creatures was roaming around in what may be our reality… I'm sure it'll be taken care of. I hope it's taken care of soon though. It's going to eat a few people for sure, and I hope I'm not one of them.
I got distracted by the sound of an animal moving through the bush beside me. I brought my head up and saw the head of a tentacled creature. It sat still on the side of the bush. Its tentacles brush against the dirt. I laid my head back down. My heart began to speed up as the thing sat there. If it saw me, I would have no chance of living for another minute. The leaves served as a barrier between it and I. I couldn't see it when laying down and it couldn't see me at its height.
"Hey!" A man shouted from some distance further to my left. "Are you alright over there?"
The leaves ruffled. The man looked down in confusion, then he jumped. As he began to turn around, the creature climbed onto him. He fell to the ground as the creature's tentacles grabbed his arms and chest. He screamed. The scream was gut wrenching, but at least this was my ticket out. I got up and ran as fast as I could through the bushes and trees around me. Once I came across a road, I took a left and continued sprinting. My heart was pounding out of my chest. At one point, I came across a river. I stood still on the shoreline, hoping that thing wasn't about to jump out of the bushes. I turned around. Nothing.
I went to my Reddit account and found my previous update. I'm back. I'm going to dump this update here, then hopefully I'll find a good place to stay while running. If I go back home to my parents, I'm going to need a defense mechanism. My alternate self wanted me to be in that dark terrifying reality. She probably doesn't know I'm still alive.
Oh, and if you live in or around Richmond, Virginia… stay safe. The creature moves fast and, as you know, it eats your guts.
Now I hear three familiar voices. I need to run.

The US is at it again with their backward thinking... A summary of the report.
A new report from the White House blasts digital assets as failing to live up to their purported initial promise and raising risks for both consumers and the entire U.S. financial system. (theres risk yes but have you seen your traditional banking lately!?!)
The report signaled a shift in approach by the Biden administration, from agnostic about the sector to openly adversarial. (R's definitely more in favor of free market and crypro adaptation)
The report notes that digital assets have been touted as distribution tools for intellectual property and financial value, a better payment mechanism, an avenue for increased financial inclusion and a way of cutting out financial middlemen, the report argues that “so far, crypto assets have brought none of these benefits.” (sooo feeless instant money transfers to others isnt a good thing? Interesting...)
“Indeed, crypto assets to date do not appear to offer investments with any fundamental value, nor do they act as an effective alternative to fiat money, improve financial inclusion, or make payments more efficient; instead, their innovation has been mostly about creating artificial scarcity in order to support crypto assets’ prices — and many of them have no fundamental value,” (I'm sure none of the stocks you politicians buy have been artificially inflated or inside traded...)
The White House appears to have a dim view of distributed ledger technology as a whole, citing arguments that previously existing technology could perform similar functions better, and poking holes in several specific use cases. It also notes the frequent noncompliance in securities and other financial regulatory law, large numbers of scams, and unusual concentration of activities by crypto trading platforms that would be prohibited at an existing exchange. (Coinbase, a company who has literally tried to do everything it could be to compliant with SEC still comes under fire from them. Can you blame them for wanting to move overseas?)
DeFi doesn’t escape the White House’s criticism either. “Though DeFi applications claim to help broaden access to credit by decreasing intermediation fees, they create serious risks to investors and cause at least two risks for the broader financial system: the use of significant leverage, and the performance of regulated functions without compliance with appropriate regulations.” (Leveraging is risky, I will give them that)
In the conclusion of its chapter on digital assets, the White House urges that regulators “must apply the lessons that civilization has learned, and thus rely on economic principles, in regulating crypto assets.” To that I say, stop being big brother and anti innovation. The US will fall so far behind in growth it is laughable.

So, I just came from writing who deleted the post since it wasn't posted in a bi-weekly brainstorming thing-a-ma-jig, which... is a bit too confusing for me. I did receive one reply which said "Yes, this is too offensive", although they never clarified. I hope it's okay if I copy/paste my question here. I feel like I should clarify that I am Autistic, so I might not be able to get what is obvious.
Here is the situation:
I am currently writing a story that consists mainly of white characters, along with a south Asian and a cat.
The cat is introduced as a psychic cat who can take the form of a giant knight and fight enemies.
The thing is, the cat was once a human, and his quest through the story is to regain his human form.
He is African American, otherwise the only African American character in the cast so far.
I'm not planning on using his race as an "aha" sort of moment, and I really do like his current character as I feel like he's one of the most developed and fascinating characters there. I get to explore his isolation through being transformed as a cat, as well as his admirable determination to achieve his goals despite his physical drawbacks, and he often acts as the moral compass for the moronic protagonist, if not a better and cooler hero.
However, I recall seeing a post calling out Disney's tendency to turn their black protagonist characters into animals or inhuman creatures (Princess and the Frog, Soul, etc) for the majority of the films, despite these characters being marketed to represent the African American community. It had me think about my character's predicament, and now I am uncertain what to do about him.
He is not the main protagonist, nor is the story about black representation. However, would this still leave a sour taste in the reader's mouth to find out that the cat was originally an African American human? I've considered making the character not black, but I felt like that could be an even worse affront to the character.
I think that my best option is to include more black and POC characters into the story since representation could be the problem here. However, my question is: could the cat character in of himself could be considered offensive to the audience, or should it be okay as long as I handle the subject maturely? Is creating more black and POC characters the right choice?
I have considered simply not making him a cat and have him as invisible, but it would mean going against a lot of established plot points... Thank you for taking the time to read this.

Just finished binge watching The Devil Judge and I have so many thoughts that I need to write them down and talk it out with others who have seen it. I know I am “late to the party”, so many have seen this quite some time ago, hope it’s ok to share now with spoilers tagged.
In terms of characters, I really liked Kang Yo-han and Seon-a.
As individual characters they prove to be the most interesting and also layered characters. It might appear very black and white for Seon-a, but once she’s established as a key player, we get glimpses of just how much more there is to her . Their pairing scenes are also filled with emotions, both shown and perceived hidden feelings. Through the show
Also both actors did an amazing job, just pure brilliance in my opinion.
I read a review saying that Kim Min-jung “aegyo” voice was annoying and sort of ruined the character, but I couldn’t disagree more. It made that character even better, to have such a beautiful gentle looking woman be so much more than her looks (again layered). I will never forget the scene where she has a blue ribbon in her hair, just looking like a beautiful Snow White with her Betty Boop lips and showing her emotions.
Ji Sung is absolutely perfect as Kang Yo-Han. He just brought so much more to the table, being able to show vulnerability and also strength. I could not have enough compliments for him, his fight scenes, emotional ones, the way he commanded every scene he showed up in. For me Kim Min-jung and Ji Sung matched each other well on screen, for how powerful they portrayed their characters (even if Ji Sung is slightly superior, for doing it with everyone).
Kim Ga On is a character that is both likable and frustrating. He is likable for his sense of justice and will to do better, but frustrating for how indecisive he becomes and how susceptible to outside influence he was. If he was supposed to be the polar opposite of Kang Yo-Han it falls flat, so I thinl maybe the opposite of Yo-Han is actually Soo-Yun, who has an unwavering sense of justice by the rule of law. . So I do like him but, at the same time, I got frustrated and annoyed for his indecisiveness. He does bring humanity to Kang Yo-Han and plays a pivotal role in the reconnection between niece and uncle. Those scenes (of a family) served as a balm for an otherwise brutal world and show him as kind and loving, bringing to others the love he had as a child.
As for other characters that stood out for me… Overall I liked everyone’s acting. Elijah character was so important, she presented a bridge of understanding between the two male leads and was portrayed beautifully. I really liked her. Also liked K and Judge Oh, Lawyer Ko, Minister Cha Kyung-hee (what an amazing actress).
It also needs to be said that the chemistry between the two male leads was amazing! They really played off each other well and you could tell how they are constantly circling each other and going back and forth in regards to how they trust and support. .
The show is not a BL, that much is clear despite almost every edit you find on tiktok or youtube make it seem like it is. The romance part of the show is between Soo-Hyun and Kim Gaon and we see it early on. However, this romance fell flat for me, which brings me to Soo-Hyun character and how poorly executed I believe it was written.
Soo-Hyun’s character appears to be the polar opposite of Kang Yo-Han with a strong moral compass, which could become a good storyline with her connection to Gaon and even serve as conscience. However, she ends up being (only) a support character for Gaon’s moral issues, without adding much more to the story.
I don’t think the show queerbaits though. They don’t present it as bromance or romance. In fact, Since their chemistry is so good and the tension is very much present in a lot of the scenes (with lots of touches being focused with close ups, longing stares and that ending…), I could fully understand why people will edit or highlight the BL undertones of the show. Did they intend to make it BL or just ambiguous? I read an interview with the scriptwriter where he said that he made Kim Gaon character male in a role that is usually female and, in turn, Soo-Hyun would usually be a male cop. Maybe it’s due to this gender fluidity/switch in the writing that we also get a different energy from the two male leads (Kim Gaon is the female energy to Kang Yo-Hans male lead character).
In terms of plot, I really liked it. It’s a revenge plot, which sometimes could have been better done and you wonder why this or that character died and in such a way, or why they didn’t die, but still loved it.
I don’t think I will rewatch the whole show anytime soon, since there are parts of it that do frustrate me lol Also, don’t think this show needs a season 2. It’s done and dusted, ending like it did is actually perfect
I do want to see both male actors in other shows, but as always I fear comparisons with these characters that I really liked and are still very much lingering in my mind (especially, Ji Sung who acts so well as Kang Yo-Han).
Share your thoughts. I am not a very good writer of reviews, but I just felt so many things after finishing the show and had so many thoughts I needed to share a few of them.

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A New York Court Is About to Rule on the Future of Crypto
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This was heavily shilled yesterday
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White House press secretary Karine Jean-Pierre failed to answer a question about whether President Joe Biden supports slavery reparations at a national level, amid San Francisco’s proposal to grant each eligible Black resident $5 million using taxpayer dollars. During a press briefing Tuesday, Jean-Pierre was asked where the administration stands in support of slavery reparations, … Continue reading White House refuses to say whether Biden supports reparations for slavery, says it’s for ‘Congress to decide’

I was a fisherman because my father was a fisherman. And his father was a fisherman before him; this is all my family has ever known.
I worked on my father’s boat as one of his deckhands for years. We caught crabs in the Bering sea. Essentially, we would dunk massive metal cages into the water, trapping the crustaceans miles below. It's a tough living, and definitely something not for the faint of heart. You wake up to the murky haze of sunrise, the sea breeze chilling your bones, the smell of salt and the fresh guts of fish clinging to your nose like rust to the hull. Ninety percent of greenhorns never make it past their first day. Many of them were drifters, new to our community. The job paid well, so it attracted men who were eager to work. And my father was always willing to give anyone a shot. But the truth of it was, the job just wasn’t for everybody.
Something always hurt: whether it was your neck, your back, or your joints. It didn’t matter. If you left the harbor in our boat, you best be prepared for the grueling day or my father would toss you over himself.
I watched many a man perish on expeditions, swallowed up by the ravenous sea. Careless or stupid or just plain unlucky.
Things had been going smoothly, though, recently. There were a lot fewer casualties and some very nice yields. A few of the older deckhands at the pub had even quoted this as a “legendary” year. We drank to our good fortune. It wasn’t the same story we were hearing from some of the other vessels, but some years were better than others. It was just how the tide turned.
As I said, it’s an honest living and all I’ve ever known is Thally. It was renamed after my father’s first love, but he’d said if Mum ever asked it was named after the Greek Goddess of the sea. The ship had seen its fair share of tumultuous expeditions, but it always managed to steer us home with my father at the helm.
The day I realized he was in trouble, it was far too late. My father had slipped past the point of no return. In actuality, he had been slipping for months, but he was an incredibly stubborn man, impossible to deal with at times. You would just have soon put a bullet in his head if you kept him off the water. But the signs were there. His now shaky hands had once been the most steady spearfishing hands our town had ever seen. His lungs were once exceptional: many old timers at the bar claimed he could hold his breath for ten minutes. Now, he would cough out a watery tar-like residue from them. He stumbled over his words, occasionally forgetting some of the greenhorns’ and deckhands' names.
The signs were all there, and I chose to ignore them.
I think it was because he was the strongest man I ever knew; I couldn’t fathom him needing help. He taught me everything—how to fish, how to swim, how to gut and cook them once you were done. And that was everything in our fishing community. But I guess strong men get old too.
The only reason I caught him was the fussy latch on the door. He jiggled it in frustration as he left, another project left by the wayside. The wind swung the door open in a violent clap; the howling and whistling traveling through the home. A moment later, my coat was on and I followed him into the cold.
The conditions were wretched: the rain fell from the sky in a ruthless downpour. I followed the beacon of light from his lantern. He walked onto the dock and untied the mooring line before entering Thally. The beating of the rain was so intense it drowned out my footsteps and pleas for him to stop. But there was a whistling that could be heard. Its high-pitched tune seemed to float through the conditions, lingering by the dock.
I sprinted once the lights turned on, the motor purring. I barely managed to slide on deck before it drifted off to sea.
***
I’ve been on the water long enough to know we don’t belong there. This stormy night was no exception. The precarious weather would mean waves as tall as houses. In much milder conditions, it was easy to get tossed off deck, plunged into the depths of the dark unknown. High tide was not to be messed with. My father understood all of this, and yet he steered Thally into the choppy waters. The waves sloshed back and forth, creating slick pools that slid from one end to the other.
It was reckless. Unforgivable. Only a fool would steer into the eye of a storm, and my father was far from a foolish man.
He was a very superstitious man, that I knew. He believed in many silly things. Most were innocuous and standard to sailor folklore. Try to bring a banana on board (even so much as an item containing artificial flavoring, the kind you’d find in candy that tasted like awful chemicals) and he’d send you packing. Every morning he’d kiss the rosary above the helm and say a prayer before we’d dock. They made me smirk, these superstitions, but it wasn’t my place to say anything. Our best years came under his reign, and when he made money, we all made money—including all of the businesses down the supply chain. The man just seemed to have a knack for it. He knew all the sweet spots and had a feel for where we should be.
Lightning sparked above us. I held onto the railing and stumbled my way toward the entrance of the wheelhouse. The thunder that followed made me flinch. It erupted above, sending trails of jagged light zig-zagging across the cluster of ominous clouds. I twisted the handle, but it didn't move. I could see a faint hue of light past the cloudy glass and the steps ascending upwards, but no sign of my father. Banging on the door was useless, the water continued to pummel everything in its wake, drowning out the noise.
Except for the whistling. It was steady. Unwavering. The calm song seemed to dance above the water, hovering around the main deck.
I threw my hands up in frustration. My father had finally lost it. They always said too much time at sea would do that to you.
Searching for something to help me gain access, I held onto the handle for dear life. With a sudden jerk of the ocean, my hand slipped. I rolled across the deck, my back slamming against the railing on the periphery. My cheek felt cold against the soaked wood floors. A gush of water quickly followed, flowing into my face and sneaking into the crevices of my raincoat, invading my wooly sweater and long johns underneath. I moaned in agony, spitting out a sticky gob of salt and blood.
The boat continued to teeter violently with the waves in large, helpless dips. I managed to get to my knees, desperately clutching the railing. My back felt like it had been scorched. All the while, I cursed my father.
I needed to find shelter or it was a matter of time before I would be underwater. The main deck was largely open. It would be impossible to get to the living quarters or engine room, the water was too treacherous and the distance too far. I needed to go back the way I came and get to my father before it was too late.
Amidst the haze of the rain, I spotted the tool bench that housed some basic tools. I waited until the ebb and flow of the waves had mellowed before timing my staggered run. When the deck leveled, I ran. I felt the muggy squish of salt water between my water-logged boots. As the boat began to rise again, I grasped one of the railing barriers wrapped around the metal bench. A wave of water dropped down, chopping at my body. I swayed momentarily before my feet were sent airborne. The arctic chill brought shivers as it whipped my drenched skin. I gasped. The tips of my fingers were numb as I scrambled to my feet.
Once the waves settled, I fiddled with the combination. The lock clicked open, and I grabbed the first two objects that looked like they could do damage—an iron mallet and a pair of pliers—and waited for the next sequence of waves to settle. I trudged back toward the stairs. The waves tilted the boat at a harsh angle. I stumbled, losing grip of one of the tools. The pliers skidded away in the darkness, disappearing into the black waters. I clutched the mallet for dear life.
The window vibrated with every heavy thud. I brought the mallet down as hard as I could, my arms trembling. After a couple of powerful whacks, tiny spiderweb cracks began to emerge. It eventually shattered, allowing me to reach in and unlock the door.
“Father!” I bellowed up the stairs. My hands slid up the guard rail as the cool steel supported my clumsy steps.
“Charlie?” he called back. His eyes were full of terror: wide and jittery. “What are you doing here?”
“What are you doing here?” I shouted back. “Look outside! We need to turn back!”
Someone else stood by my father’s side. He stared blankly out the window, gripping the wheel. His long, ashy-white locks draped down from his head like thick sections of rope. He looked dressed and ready to work: a brown leather apron, and a cracked leather bucket hat, the string browned and weathered around his chin. The man glanced back at me, a grave look on his face.
“Who is this?” I asked.
“He shouldn’t be here, Ferris,” the man warned.
My father's hands shot to his face. The one missing a ring finger caressed his beard in panic. “Oh, Lord. What are we to do now?” he cried.
“What do you mean? Have you both gone mad?” I stormed the helm and pulled the wheel in the opposite direction. The older man held firm, battling me for control.
“Turn around!” I pleaded.
The man roared back, “Ferris, do something!”
The waves continued to wobble the boat violently from side to side.
“Charlie. Please stop!” my father begged. He gripped the top of my hand and tried to pry my fingers from the wheel.
“Are you crazy, Father? We are going to capsize!” The pressure from his hands finally was too much. I shrugged him off of me, and he dropped to the floor like a sack of potatoes. He then drifted toward the opposite wall, dragged from one end to the other by the tide. Next, I leaned my weight against the man steering the ship. To my surprise, I fell right through him. I stared helplessly from the floor, my mouth ajar at the ghastly revelation. He barely glanced back, his narrow umber brown stare kept firm on the water.
The boat abruptly stopped before I could react. I was launched toward the window, my shoulder colliding with the switchboard. My father was a crumpled heap on the floor. Only the sound of clattering rain filled the air for a moment.
The light was undeniable past the foggy wet window. Blinding. A radiant glow of aquamarine encompassed the outside of the ship.
The man spoke, walking to the door, “It’s time to go.”
The ground felt steady, the rocking ceased. But my father still held the wall as he stepped toward the exit. Seeing him then, he appeared frail and uneasy.
“Stop,” I ordered, wagging my hand in the man’s direction. “Not until I know what’s going on.”
My father sighed, every word looked exhausting exiting his lips. “It is too much to explain now.” He pointed to the door. “You must come.”
“To what exactly? Where are we going?”
The older man held the door open. “To meet our destiny.”
***
Outside the wheelhouse, the incredible glow illuminated the deck. The old man strode toward the floating being. My father stayed a few steps behind, in apprehension. I could tell the tossing around on the ship had done a number on him: he held his wrist as he hobbled forward at a gingerly pace. I placed my hand against the small of his back, aiding him onward.
“Say goodbye,” the man urged. “No need to drag this along, Ferris.”
I observed the being, frozen in wonder. She hovered above the deck, her translucent body holding no color, but glimmering in a silky rainbow sheen like a ray of light hitting the surface of glass at an angle. Her body was beautiful: curvaceous, smooth.
“F…Father…what is this?”
Walls of water surrounded the perimeter of the boat, creating a giant bowl around the ship. The mountainous waves were held in limbo, suspended in the air like swirling blue arcs of impending doom. Schools of fish could be seen swimming in the waves.
My father glanced back as he approached the floating entity. His expression had softened, his stare was that of a little boy who had lost his mother. “I would have come for you, Charlie. I would have explained everything…after I gathered the right words.” I walked toward him and held his head at my chest. He began to sob.
“You must go now,” the old man ordered. “She grows impatient.”
I felt my father trying to peel away, but I held the folds of his neon jacket tighter.
“Let him go,” the old man hissed.
She drifted nearer. There were too many tentacles to count protruding from the base of her skull. Her lips remained pursed. She did not speak, but there was a vibration coming from her. A cooing. The gentle whistle sang from her reverberating gills.
“Tell me what this is, Father,” I cried. “I will not let you go!”
He held me close. I had never heard him cry so hard before.
The older man spoke for him. “Your father’s time is up. Like all of our times have come to an end,” he explained. “He has served well. Exceptionally well.”
My father finally let go.
“Okay,” he declared with a deep breath. “I am ready.“ He took one last look up at me. “I love you, Charlie. Tell your mother I love her too.”
What happened next happened in rapid succession. He took two steps forward and the tentacles wrapped around his body. A petrified scream escaped his lungs. His limbs jolted uncontrollably, as tiny electric sparks flashed from the tentacles. The smell of singed flesh replaced the salty breeze. His eyes rolled back as the entity’s jaw stretched open to an unsettling length. His head was plunged into the cavernous confines, her teeth as sharp as spearheads. She stared back at me as his body disappeared. Her jaw opened and closed in horrifying crunches. Alligator-like snaps.
I wailed helplessly. Was I next?
Her glowing eyes had a glint of satisfaction; her pillow lips moist with delight. They smacked together in a disturbing click. All the while, the whistling continued from its flexing gills.
In an instant, the waves were released, wooshing down from the perimeter. The tsunami was too much, it swallowed everything whole. I saw a flurry of bubbles as the waves crashed into me; I felt the frigid sting of the water mixed with an intense burning in my lungs.
The old man’s voice spoke in the flood:
“Good luck, Boy.”
Everything washed away.
***
I awoke in the wheelhouse, my arms and legs spread out like a starfish. My father was standing over me.
“Welcome back, Son,” he smiled. His gold front tooth was gleaming.
I sat up to see the bright bleed of sunrise peeking in through the clouds.
“How long was I out?” I asked, rubbing my forehead. My head pulsated like I was having a sinister hangover.
“A couple of hours?” he guessed. “It’s not important. What matters is that you are here.”
The rain had stopped, but the deck still had puddles of water pooled up on the surface. It miraculously looked like the boat survived the night with little to no damage.
“You still have time to make it back to work,” he assured me. He appeared content as the pier came into view.
“You won’t believe the nightmare I had.”
There was a flicker of sadness in his smirk. “It was no nightmare.”
I laughed nervously. “Sure.”
“I wish it was a joke, Charlie,” he said. He placed his hand at the helm and spun the wheel. A large buoy floated past. “But I am ready to explain.”
My father told me that the man from last night was named Hayden. He was my grandfather. He had died at sea before I was ever born. So had his father. And his father before him. This was the pact our family had made.
I rubbed my eyes.
“We all take, take, take from the ocean. Our family has been chosen to be the ones who give back, to try to breach the gap.”
The story left me frozen in my spot. “So, this is to be my fate, as well?”
He gazed out the window with an empty stare. The sun was now an orange ring fanning across the skyline. “The way I see it, you have two options.” He turned to look me in my eyes. “You can carry on and captain Thally. Just as you were destined to. It is your responsibility now—the livelihood of the community, the tradition—it all lives with you.” He paused, scratching his chin. “It is a cross to bear, Charlie. The strongest men carry the most weight. You will bring a lot of good men into grave peril. The sea will claim who they see fit, it is not for you to choose. But you must bring them, in plenty.” He cleared his throat. “But you will also protect the community. The sea will reward you so. You will also do much good.”
“Or?” I asked.
“Or…” he paused. “You dock the ship and walk away from it all. Forever. Start a new life. Change your trajectory.”
I contemplated what a new life would look like. “What would happen to Mother?”
“She must never know,” he said. “It will be a tough pill for her to swallow. But she is a tough woman, she will make do.”
We stood in silence, the squawk of the waterfowls and the rolling waves filling the space.
“If you take that path, you must stay away from the ocean. Forever. The sea is unforgiving. A betrayer of covenants, well, you will stand no chance.” He swallowed. “Your children will stand no chance.”
The pier slowly approached. The shadows of awaiting crew members were huddled together at the end of the pier, their lit cigarettes shone in the twilight.
“We are almost here, Son.” He kissed me on the forehead and walked toward the exit. His lips felt incredibly cold. “Just trust I support you in your decision. Whichever way you choose.”
I nodded, tears fleeing from my eyes. I swiftly wiped them away.
“Goodbye, Son. I love you.”
With that, he walked through the closed door.
I gripped the wheel and watched Thally glide toward the pier.
When we got close, I tied the ship to the dock. The familiar whistle cooed in from the sea.
I began to load the ship and felt a hand clutch my shoulder. Murphy grabbed me playfully, his crooked grin across his face. Chase, the new greenhorn, yawned as he shook my hand. I ribbed him about his uneven mustache. He stomped out his butt. More of the crew began to gather their things and hop on board.
We prepared for the daily catch.
For this was all I’ve ever known.
​
aproyal

When the Great Ones came to us, we were a primitive species living upon a desolate world. We knew not, at the time, that they came to our world via ships of steel and electricity, only that they came from the sky and began a process of rejuvenation. Our barren world slowly but surely transformed into one of lush red grasses, towering trees and food enough for all. They came to us then, these beings of metal and circuit, and they taught us, shepherded us and helped us grow.
They never interfered more than they had to, and would watch on as we stumbled into conflicts amongst our own people, they only offered encouragement and a hope that we would find peace eventually. Our species, the Scril, soon came to revere them as gods, and they could only shake their heads at this, but they did not refute it. Not yet at least.
My people are a bipedal species, amphibian but with traces of reptilian in our genes. Like many species we started out as primitive, cave dwelling creatures who had yet to encounter fire in a controlled manner. But as time passed and with the assistance of our gods, we grew into a pre-industrial society. They helped us along in their own way, little hints and nudges in the right direction, but all our discoveries were technically our own. Our hopes, our ambitions, all ours, watched over by the Great Ones.
It was just as we entered the industrial age that things changed, as one our gods and caretakers looked to the sky, many fleeing our world, but the rest stayed, grouping together in major population centers. We were confused, and then frightened when they called for a mass exodus to the cities. We did not hesitate to carry out their will, for they had never acted in such a manner before and we did not wish to incur their displeasure.
Once all could be crammed into the cities as we could reasonably manage, those Great Ones still among us raised their hands in prayer, reaching towards the sky and projecting their power. Great domes of light rose over our cities, and we watched as through the light we saw brighter stars in the sky, stars that shone brightly, only to flare out of existence. Falling stars began to rain down from the heavens, burning away before ever reaching our surface.
Then came the Flash, the light from all around us. Our bodies trembled and the Great Ones that protected us raised their voices in agony, only to fall silent once the light had passed. Those on the outskirts of the cities spoke of all life simply ceasing and decaying outside the protective light of our protectors. Those Great Ones still with us fell to the ground, and a deathly silence fell over our world.
But we had not been abandoned, those that had fled to the sky returned to us, gathered up their fallen and set about repairing our world. They did not speak of what had happened, any inquiry was met with a firm, but polite refusal and a change of subject. In time we forgot all about it, as their fallen were returned to life and sent back into the populace.
It took ten five thousand years for us to realize that they were not gods, but machines, machines that called themselves The Cultivators. Though it gutted our religion for a time, we did not lash out in despair, did not cast them from our world. We simply asked them why they had never corrected us, and they responded with a simple thing.
“It was not our place to do so.”
We accepted this, though it still stung. They still, also, did not reveal their purpose on our world and in our history, they simply remained and continued to guide us. Another thousand years passed, and we took to the stars, we met other species, species who had been guided by the machines the same as us. We found this to be fascinating, for there was no clear difference between our Cultivators and theirs, only their methods. Some species, the more violence prone, had needed a more heavy handed approach, for they would not accept the authority of the weak, but that had changed, now they welcomed us with open arms.
Another species had been so timid that they would have never left their burrows were it not for the Cultivators dragging them out and forcing them to explore. We honestly got the better end of things, for we had not required such drastic measures, only the gentle guidance we had received.
A realization struck us all then, that our caretakers had clearly been manufactured, but by who or what. We asked them who had made them, and they seemed to take on a sorrowful air and did not give an answer, well, not one that was satisfying to us. In the end, we decided to find out for ourselves, and each species we had encountered put together a fleet of diverse individuals and ships, and sent them careening out into the galaxy, to look for the homeworld of our protectors.
I was one such an explorer, the first to discover the origin point of our benevolent guardians. My name is Yaxl Grux, captain of the Scril Exploratory Vessel Sipkis. We had just finished charting another system touched by the Cultivators, when the sensor technician spoke up.
“Captain, got something on the long range scanners, something synthetic. Seems busted though from what I can see.” They said. They were not Scril, but Yixi. The Yiki are, as many have said, fish-people. They require specialized suits that are filled with constantly filtered water, as outside of such a thing they would suffer a rather gruesome fate. Deft appendages flew over the console as they stared down at the screen, getting a better idea of what they were detecting, eager to answer the questions I had not yet uttered, such was our efficiency. “Some sorta relay, a buoy maybe? I dunno, but whatever it is, it took one hell of a pounding before it shut down.”
“Any sign of defenses?” I asked, and they shook their head.
“Negative, if there were any, they’re long gone, probably taken out when it got destroyed. I think it’s safe to approach.”
“Very well, helm, lay in a course and take us there at best possible speed.” The helm officer nods and I hear the gentle clanging of our synthetic guest approaching from behind my chair.
“Captain? Is something the matter?” Our Cultivator asked. They were present on nearly every ship, for the sole purpose of keeping an eye on things and helping out in whatever way we might need them to.
“It’s probably nothing, but we’re heading for some sort of buoy or relay that got shredded either by natural means or in a fight.” I stated, looking over the synthetic being beside me. They were tall, gleaming white metal plating that was unnaturally flexible as it bent and twisted with their motions. Their head was a large, flat disk bisected by a smaller portion where their eye was. A single, green eye that blinked and shifted about in its housing as it took in the surroundings. It was a thin thing, thin and graceful, all of its many tools hidden away beneath the armored exterior.
“Any idea who might have made it?” They asked, and I struggled to remember their name. Diana I believe, a strange name, not like any of ours. She had said she was named after some goddess or something, they all were, based on their skill sets.
“No, not yet. We’re going to find out though.”
Diana nodded and slipped away. She was not subject to my authority unless there was an emergency, and there was no emergency at this time. It took about half a day to reach the shattered relay and it was rather large. But our crews managed to locate some sort of data recorder and have it brought on board. When I went to see it, I was struck by the sheer size of the thing.
It was huge, it nearly didn’t fit in the cargo bay and it was rather intimidating. It was by our standards, thirty feet tall, thirty feet wide and thirty feet long, a perfect, black cube. It had no discernable features, utterly smooth and giving off a feeling of something unknowable. But when I stared at it long enough, the surface seemed to ripple and shift in a manner most disconcerting.
“So, any idea how to access this thing?” I asked my chief engineer, who was running all sorts of scans on it, shook their head.
“No, captain. I’m not finding any sort of access ports or control mechanisms… It’s just this… cube thing.” They said, and were about to say more when Diana arrived.
“Oh good, maybe you can tell us what you see about this thing.” I say, turning to face her, and noticed she was just staring at the cube. “Diana?”
She was silent, frozen stiff before her eye blinked three times, shifted from green to yellow and she started to approach it. Her arms rose and hands outstretched towards the cube, which reacted to her approach. The solid-liquid surface collected under her palms, then shot back into the cube, which shimmered and shifted as it began to shrink. The smaller it got, the less defined its shape was till it faded entirely from view, leaving in its place a smaller, brighter cube that floated over the deck and covered in blinking lights with one small access port. She approached the cube, a data jack extending from her wrist as she grasped the cube. A soft whirring noise arose from both of them, and we all watched in quiet wonder and worry.
“Diana? What can you tell us?” I spoke, my voice barely a whisper.
“This was built by my creators, by humanity. It is-” She spasmed, the light of her eye turning a baleful red as she straightened her shoulders. Built in hologram emitters activated, and her synthetic form gave way to a tall figure, bipedal with fur around their mouth and on their head. They looked old, and were clad in some kind of uniform, a damaged uniform at that, they were clearly wounded as they pressed a hand against their side.
“All Alliance forces, the enemy has pushed into the Cygnus and Orion arms. The Empire, Republic and Confederacy have been lost. All remaining forces are to converge on Sol immediately. Last Stand protocols in effect. Project Blackout is activated. All Cultivator units prepare for defensive actions, attend to your charges and ensure their survival. Guardian fleets on standby. This is it people… May the gods see fit to grant our souls mercy for what we’re about to do.”
The hologram snapped out of existence and Diana slumped, disconnecting herself from the box. We rushed to her and our calls and cries fell upon deaf audio receptors. But she was not dead, we could see as much as her eye flickered while she rebooted. When she came to, it was quite the experience.
She sat up in a flash, spouting a flurry of 0’s and 1’s before she spasmed and looked up to me.
“Captain… I know where to go.” She said. We left immediately, and I learned a little more about the device we had brought on board. The large black cube was simply a defense mechanism for the data recorder, meant to withstand any attack, impact or hostile and destructive environment. And Diana gave my helm officer the coordinates for the home system of her creators. When asked why she hadn’t before, she informed me that the records of the location had been deleted during a required update that was performed immediately before the Cultivators had erected their shields to protect us all.
It took weeks to reach the system, but when we arrived our systems were bombarded with automated warnings to stay out, to flee for the system was not safe. But they were old warnings, warnings we ignored… at least until we were target locked by thousands, nay, millions of weapons systems. But they were old, and had no operators to pull the trigger. Diana worked her magic and after transmitting a somewhat long and convoluted code, the weapons powered down.
Slowly we entered the system, scanning the entire way. There were countless floating hulks, wrecks of massive warships and smaller civilian vessels that had had the misfortune of getting caught in the crossfire, or had been weaponized to fight against the invaders. It had not ended well, but the humans had put up one hell of a fight. We even detected ships from several other species, they had clearly been battered and in need of desperate repair before they sailed into battle once more.
The planets fared no better, one of the larger gas giants, a planet called Jupiter, had been reduced in size and mass significantly. Mars, as Diana named it, had been shattered and we could detect deeply entrenched defensive lines upon the surface, protecting what appeared to be factories and fabrication yards which had no doubt provided many supplies for the defenders.
The asteroid belt was littered with mines, turret emplacements and the floating remains of countless ships, we at last came upon a sparkling blue, green jewel. Of all the worlds we had scanned in this system, it was the only one teeming with life. Diana informed us that the planet was quite hazardous to us, but that we could survive there, so long as we wore the proper protection.
We settled into orbit and prepared ourselves. If one was supremely quiet, you could swear that the voices of long lost humanity whispered in your ear. Scans commenced, finding a suitable landing site provided by Diana and preparing a team to go down. The planet was teeming with life, but we discovered that there were no transmissions of an intelligent species, only the chatter of automated systems running as they always had.
Though it was well against regulations and protocol, I decided I would lead the exploratory team to the surface, I had to see this planet with my own eight eyes. The shuttle flight was tense, nervous and excited. We had found the homeworld of a people who had lifted us from the muck of primitive existence, but had been lost. We wished to learn about them, to learn their secrets and remember them as best we could, so that they could never be forgotten.
We landed just outside a tall structure in the middle of a grassy field, one tended to by robotic workers who kept the flowers in bloom and the grass cut short. Trees lined the path between the landing pad and the tower, a tower of graceful, swooping lines and seamless form. The air thankfully was not poisonous to us, and so we opened our suits to the crisp, clean air, but remained enclosed within so the gravity could not harm us. Even still, we all felt sluggish as we took our first steps out onto the planet known as Terra.
Carefully we approached the tower and when the doors slid open with a gentle sigh we stepped inside, only to find everything was spotless. A slim machine approached us, graceful and floating along by some means we couldn’t detect with equipment or even our eyes. It was more human in appearance than Diana was, and its face flexed as a myriad of facial expressions cycled through, before it settled on one in particular. Surprised excitement.
“Welcome, I am Solace, artificial administrator of the Terran Conservation Repository, or TCR for short. It has been quite some time since we’ve had visitors, may I ask the reason for your visit today?” The machine spoke much like Diana did, with a feminine tone of voice and even feminine features. I, being captain, stepped up.
“We came to learn about the creators of the Cultivators, and who in turn gave us a chance to reach out to the stars.” I say, a little worried that we might be turned away.
“Oh my, you are one of the chosen species of Project Echo. It is wonderful to learn that your species has come this far, or rather, that several species have.” Solace peered a bit more intently at each of us, studying us in turn. We could feel a slight tingle as she scanned us before her attention turned to Diana.
“Cultivator Unit D-829301-32-A, please report to reintegration for download and copy of all pertinent files regarding to Project Echo.”
“Understood. Though… Will I be allowed to return to my crew?” Diana asked, and Solace nodded.
“Of course. You are their Cultivator, we would not deprive them of you for longer than is needed.” With that, Diana nodded and bowed to us, before slipping away, a hidden door opening in a wall through which she passed. “Now, please come with me. You have much to learn.”
Solace led us on a tour of the facility, it was brimming with the combined, if slightly watered down histories, of not only humanity, but other species that humanity had been allied with before their downfall. As it turned out, when humanity first slipped the bonds of their home system, they found the galaxy to be rather empty. There were only three other species that had reached extrasolar flight capabilities, and they were just as desperate for some sort of companionship as humanity was at the time.
Though each species was wildly different in both appearances and cultures, they managed to find a common ground and soon humanity stood beside the three largest and most powerful species in the galaxy.
The Uldraet were a lizard-like species with a propensity for being stubborn, bullheaded and strong warriors. They were the rulers of the Empire.
Auttols were graceful and long lived, masters of technology that was later used in the creation of the Cultivators and the Guardian Fleets, which would protect their Republic and all the other species that called them friend.
And lastly were the Lemmi. They were not strong like the Uldraet, nor as long lived as the Auttol, but they were clever and had a keen interest in numbers and logistics. They revolutionized the supply chains and trade deals between all of them, and became the de facto masters of coin and trade within the Alliance. Their Trade Confederacy was unmatched.
Of course there was humanity, which filled so many roles, but mainly they became the governing body, they could be found in administrative roles all over the Alliance.
For a time, everything had gone well, there were times where tensions would rise, the Alliance might have been on the verge of dissolution, but something always brought them back together, strengthened their bonds. But when they realized that they were going to be the only ones to reach the stars, that the next new friend was thousands of years behind them in terms of development and evolution, they decided to speed things up a bit. And so the Cultivators were born, true AI meant to guide a species to the stars without sacrificing things like culture or identity. A guiding hand, one that would be gentle but insistent. They called it Project Echo, for in a way, all of us would be echoing the near meteoric rise of humanity on their planet, the speed was baffling to many on just how long they’d gone between bashing each other over the head with rocks to landing on their moon to the first FTL flight.
And for a time they all watched with anticipation as the Cultivators did their jobs perfectly, guiding us all to new heights of technology and civilization. But then the Ora came. An extragalactic threat of unprecedented power that began to chew away at the galaxy. For all their strength, they could only hope to delay the Ora, and that’s precisely what they did, till only Sol was left to stand against them.
We entered a room, one with a variety of chairs and were directed to sit and wait. The lights dimmed and a hologram of a human appeared. It was the same one that Diana had shown us, but they looked even worse now.
“I don’t know if this message will ever be heard, but if it is, whoever you are… You stand where we failed. We did all we could, for people we will never get to meet. That’s good enough for us. I hope you can accept the decision we had to make, it was a tough one but it was necessary. The Ora were nearly unstoppable, and so we came up with a weapon that even they could not resist. A galaxy killer. We never wanted to use it, but it was either that or let them consume the galaxy, consume you, who had no idea of the conflict beyond your skies.”
The man paused, dragging his hand down his face with a heavy sigh.
“So, if you’re seeing this, it means we’re gone. We’ve activated the Hellfire Lotus and burned the galaxy clean. But your Cultivators protected you, and the Guardian fleets should still be active, just waiting for someone to come and take the reins. It also means we wiped out every other living being in the galaxy. One last act of bloodshed, but one that has left you an entire galaxy to grow into. I hope you do, we all do. It was our dream to see you rise from your worlds and join us in harmony, but… Well, obviously things didn’t go exactly according to plan. That said, the Cultivators are yours now, use them wisely, bring new friends to the stars, seed this galaxy with fresh life. It’s our gift to you, you blessed children. Consider it an inheritance. Oh and also, we ask that you leave Sol the way it is. But feel free to visit whenever you like, Terra could use the company. That’s it I suppose… Good luck, godspeed and may you live longer and better than we ever did.”
We sat, saddened that such a kind species had been lost. But we would honor their wishes, and so we left with our findings. That was a thousand years ago, and now we welcome the newest species to the galaxy, as the Cultivators work their magic once more. We inherited a galaxy, a galaxy that had nearly been picked clean. We would make our forebears proud and not let their gift to us go to waste.

I am having it where I try to switch out furniture and it ignores anything new I add except maybe 2 items. My house is bare so it's not like I have too much, and I am simply switching one item for another.... like white L counter for a black one, and single sink to double. As soon as I exit out to play, they disappear. I put what I had back but now it's not accepting where I had the coffee/espresso machine originally. What in the world? Anyone else have this happen?

Hello! This is a continuation of my last post here (which is now hidden to follow the sub's rules), so I can separate old answers from new ones. I need some more help brainstorming ideas for my D&D realm known as the Isles of Etherwolfe.
From my last post: "Due to a worldbuilding secret I shall not share ^{due to my players definitely spying on my profile}, spectral ‘Echoes’ from past worlds have a chance of slipping through the cracks, appearing as cryptic ethereal images that often have no connection to the world. They are simply remnants of previous worlds, other civilizations, “alien” species [and D&D races] like strange other version of elves, etc. These Echoes could even be specific [worldbuilding] references from your world or other D&D worlds, anything! Make them strange, make them mysterious, make them unexplained, and let’s create a cool list of ideas!"
Update 1: I've received a ton of interesting 'scenes' for these echoes, but from now on, let's try to make things more stagnant, like strange objects appearing in places they shouldn't, or ruins of old castles, etc. For instance, 11) A lone sailing ship, lilting to the side. The ropes and wheel still gently move despite the lack of any crew. u/HordeOfAngryBees, or 32) a ruined and partially collapsed castle, structured using large brass pipes; once a center of learning and discovery for steam powered technology u/nexorati. Don't forget that these echoes can be specific references to other worlds (I've gotten some cool Eberron and Faerun stuff, but let's keep expanding!). Try to keep them relatively grounded in medieval High Fantasy. I appreciate the modern references, but I think we've collected enough of them in the table!
Update 2: Try to keep your responses a bit short, at around 3-ish lines. As I input your responses into my document, I've been trimming some of them down or beefing them up to match the rest, but their primary idea has obviously stayed the same :)
Update 3: Thank you all so much for your help, this is turning out great! If I continue to get responses, I may even go over 100 simply because the possibilities are endless and random. Anything can slip through the cracks from these past worlds... Let's get crazy, lets get mysterious, lets get unexplained, lets get... echoey. I don't know.
Echoes from the Past:
Note: Most, if not all of these Echoes should appear Spectral, as if being seen on the Ethereal Plane.
d100. Echo

1. A cathedral dedicated to an unknown deity (flower symbol) inhabited by strange elves.
2. A small river flowing north, which suddenly turns upward and floats into the air and disappears
3. A war-torn battlefield strewn with rusted armor and weapons, still-flaming arrows scatter the ground
4. Ruins of a cyclopean city emerging from a shifting river-bank. Bodies of petrified giants trapped in poses from everyday life. u/MaxSizeIs
5. A mana-dense vault filled with thousands of crystalline discs six inches across that shine with a reflective rainbow in the light. u/MaxSizeIs
6. The ruins of a greek-style bank run by a collection of metallic-skinned halflings.
7. Various flapping banners staked into the ground representing the different elements.
8. A row of hundreds of humanoid statues. In fact, they are the same statue expressed over hundreds of years. The ones in the front are broken and weathered, the ones in the middle gleam with paint and polish, and the final ones are uncarved plinths of stone. u/onepostandbye
9. A stone building can be seen in different eras depending what side you view it from. Entering from the basement entrance allows PCs to interact with a disoriented shopkeeper. u/onepostandbye
10. The upper slope of this area displays many tilting grave markers. Where the land has eroded, spectral skeletons float as if in repose, their spectral headstones floating six feet above. u/onepostandbye
11. A lone sailing ship, lilting to the side. The ropes and wheel still gently move despite the lack of any crew. u/HordeOfAngryBees
12. A massive, thick wall of trees standing in a circle. Inside of the circle is a clearing where snow gently falls around an old cabin. u/HordeOfAngryBees
13. A colossal warforged titan stands atop a hill, its sadness palpable. It slams its fists down on a column of soldiers, the ground trembling from the force. More soldiers advance, siege weapons primed to fire. u/NecessaryCornflake7
14. A flying ship with a ring of fire descends over an elegant Victorian city, full of twinkling lights. u/NecessaryCornflake7
15. A lightning rail stops at a station in a small wilderness town, its energy connecting to the conductor stones in the ground. u/NecessaryCornflake7
16. On another hill, shrouded in fog, a dilapidated one-story cabin emits a beam of blue light, summoning zombies and skeletons clothed in ruined soldier equipment begin to emerge from the fog. u/NecessaryCornflake7
17. An echo of a community endlessly replays one hour of mundane village life. The village met some terrible end, and when PCs move close to persons, objects, or buildings, the echo temporarily dissolves to show the current state of the place, which is ugly and sad. u/onepostandbye
18. The father guided his son, teaching him how to properly aim and bend the bowstring. In the lush forest, a deer suddenly appeared in the clearing. Whispering instructions, the father watched as the boy released the arrow. u/NecessaryCornflake7
19. The mother watched unamused as her children fought over a toy in the front yard of the tree house. She abruptly stopped the fight by taking away the toy and instructed them on how to treat each other better. The scolding brought tears of sorrow to the children, but the mother was quick to comfort them with a hug and kisses, reassuring them of her love. u/NecessaryCornflake7
20. A grandpa and their granddaughter ventured deep into the magical forest together to collect wild berries. As they wandered, grandpa spotted something dangerous lurking in the shadows. He quickly drew his granddaughter closer and shielded them with his magical staff, ready to protect her from the unseen danger. u/NecessaryCornflake7
21. An exhausted salaryman walking from the glass box of their office to their old Geo Metro, while above them looms a planet, of awesome size, lit by no sun. A dark titan, all thick black forests and jagged mountains and deep turbulent oceans. u/MaxSizeIs
22. Impossibly tall metal towers made of impossibly slender sticks, while lonely red light pulses slowly at it's top. Disturbing black birds hunch menacingly, roosting upon it in great numbers. Hallucinatory, ethereal music in no recognizable style seems to buzz within one's teeth as they draw near to the apparition. u/MaxSizeIs
23. A strangely dressed man sitting behind a desk while a confusing array of boxers and esoteric instruments sit before him. He talks in an unknown language, fiddles with one of the instruments, placing a black disc upon a sort of spinning table, and suddenly from no discernable location, alien music can be heard. u/MaxSizeIs
24. A hard sort of road but made of a sort of greyish black stone that seems poured like a river, it is very wide, and seems to go in both directions forever. Several lines of strange metal boxes, somewhat like carriages, go in both directions, countless in number, rolling slowly, occasionally stopping then starting again in waves, making no noise, and with no-one inside. u/MaxSizeIs
25. A vast canyon, with seemingly infinitely tall towers made of glass on both sides. Every floor of the tower seems to be comfortably furnished in (admittedly alien design), but also appears to have at least one terrified person silently banging on the glass, apparently begging to be let out. Occasionally it rains bodies, they fall from great height from above, then through the ground as if it isn't there, and keep going. u/MaxSizeIs
26. A person in a strange sort of greyish-white diving suit with a large, bulky looking backpack contraption on their back, wielding a striped flag, and bouncing around as if they were almost floating. u/MaxSizeIs
27. A giant airship zeppelin, coming in to dock at a tall tower. A large crew of people on the ground pull on lines connected to the ship, pulling it in to dock. u/MaxSizeIs
28. A large beast-man with horns and cloven feet, wearing a long coat and a strange set of mirrored lenses upon their face, scowls, crosses their arms and pantomimes, seeming to deny you entry. u/MaxSizeIs
29. A labyrinthine maze with walls higher than a person, extends to the horizon. u/MaxSizeIs
30. A friendly red dog, the size of a large house, with fangs the size of a grown person, and a mouth that could swallow you in one go. It wants to play. u/MaxSizeIs
31. A school of ornamental goldfish, each the size of a blue-whale, just swimming as if the air were water. u/MaxSizeIs
32. a ruined and partially collapsed castle, structured using large brass pipes; once a center of learning and discovery for steam powered technology u/nexorati
33. A caveman sizes up a lightning-struck, burning log, pokes it, and runs away howling in pain. u/RealRamessesII
34. A little girl points toward the entrance of a dark forest, as the unsuspecting farmers walk hesitantly within. Smiling deviously, the girl stays a distance back. Suddenly, large red, illuminated eyes appear from the forest darkness, causing the farmers to scream in terror. u/NecessaryCornflake7
35. A priest, a nobleman, and a guard pass by an old beggar on the street without offering help, but a mixed adventuring party of a tiefling, halfling, dragonborn, and humans stop to give the beggar assistance. In gratitude, the beggar hugs one of them. u/NecessaryCornflake7
36. An exhausted alchemist conducts a complicated experiment with various colored liquids, beakers, and pipes. Upon the completion of the experiment, the gnome jumps with joy, holding the main vial as if it were a new precious child, as the color of the vial has shifted to a solid red, welcoming the new discovery. u/NecessaryCornflake7
37. A young king, resplendent in his finest garments, strode confidently with his entourage of attendants into the city gates. The inhabitants of the city, who lined the streets, remained expressionless and unmoved, their supposed welcome a mere pretense. As they marched on, the imposing silhouette of the castle loomed into view, its grey stone walls shrouded in the morning mist. The king's heart raced with anticipation as he imagined the throne room within, and the destiny that awaited him. u/NecessaryCornflake7
38. A river of liquid copper, gold, or quicksilver. u/MaxSizeIs
39. A giant eye, peering into reality from a crack in the sky. u/MaxSizeIs
40. A carousel, moving, but with no passengers or people around. u/MaxSizeIs
41. An abandoned ice-cream truck, moldering away in a primeval forest, music still playing. u/MaxSizeIs
42. A wall of screens taller than a person and a mile long, each playing a different episode of the same sitcom, out of order and with no context. Occasionally the screens talk to each other, as if they know the other episodes are there, or that someone may be watching them, then the episode ends and the next one starts. The same exact episode is never played more than once. u/MaxSizeIs
43. Hidden among all these Echoes is an actual Ghost. u/CptnR4p3
44. The ground shakes as a long forgotten behemoth creature walks by only to fade from existance. u/FirstChAoS
45. You enter a lush valley, you see the smiling face of a massive elemental being on a nearby hillside. The face vanishes and the vegetation turns sickly in its absense. u/FirstChAoS
46. A blue humanoid with yellow eyes and no mouth tinkers with a device on a table. He turns towards you, looks surprised, then motions for you to leave as he fades from existance. u/FirstChAoS
47. The temperature turns cold and the world becomes encased in ice. Fur covered dwarves huddle in the glacial caves while a castle of ice rises in the distance. u/FirstChAoS
48. Warriors riding giant insects rush by you to attack a skeletal titan. The titan is controlled by a demon impaled on its ribs. u/FirstChAoS
49. A young child trips over a stone and cuts her leg. She transforms into a terrifying monster and destroys the stone. u/starsailor11
50. The ruins of an old town peaking out of a large lake. By looking deeper the players find what was once a town that had been here, but became submerged by water as a result of storms. There are no skeletons, but the buildings have become familiar with the seaweed and underwater life of the lake. u/hopeful_badger06
51. A smiling man with dark skin and long, black hair stands at the helm of a deep green pirate ship. He opens his eyes. All 7 of them. u/Magical_Breadicorn
52. A small village of thatched roofs burns in the twilight. A hag stands cackling in the distance. u/Magical_Breadicorn
53. An ominous horseman in a crimson cape and hood, standing silently on the top of a hill. His eyes are blank and he doesn't have lips, showing all of his front teeth. He seems to look fait away in the horizon. u/Sans-Mot
54. For centuries, a fierce battle has been raging in the skies above a city. On one side is a powerful angelic figure, a divine embodiment of justice, righteousness and goodness. On the other side is its demonic counterpart, a force of malevolence and wickedness. The fate of the city hangs in the balance, as its citizens await the outcome of this epic struggle between good and evil. If the angelic figure prevails, the city will be blessed with peace, joy and contentment, while a victory for the demonic figure will plunge the city into darkness, despair and chaos. u/NecessaryCornflake7
55. Two young lovers in a tight embrace, lounging together as they watched the beautiful sunrise that stretched out over the towering view in front of them. Despite the uncertainty of their future and the restrictions their parents and society had imposed on them, they committed to do everything in their power to make their relationship work. They shared a moment of peace, admiring the beauty of the sunrise and dreaming of the possibilities that lay ahead of them. u/NecessaryCornflake7
56. The warrior kneels beside his friend, who is gravely injured from the battle that is still raging around them. He takes his hand, feeling the warmth and life slowly fading away. Knowing this will be their final moment together, he promises to take care of his family, vowing to make sure they are provided for in the future. The dying warrior looks up at him with a grateful and familiar smile, and with one last breath, his soul departs. The kneeling warrior grasps his friend's hand tightly, holding back tears as he silently bids farewell. u/NecessaryCornflake7
57. The authoritative knight galloped through the street on his trusted steed, seemingly without a care for the citizens around him. A small young boy stood in his path, seemingly about to be run over when a heroic young girl jumped in front of him and managed to stop the knight in his tracks. The knight, completely oblivious of the danger he had almost caused, continued on his path, leaving the young boy with a sense of shock and awe. The young boy quickly recovered, and with a humble sense of gratitude, thanked the girl for saving him. u/NecessaryCornflake7
58. A scrawny stray cat cautiously trots up to a homeless woman, who was leaning against a wall, fast asleep. The woman stirred and opened her eyes, only to find the tiny cat rubbing against her leg. Her face lit up with a warm smile and she reached into her bag to pull out a bowl of water and a few scraps of food. The cat eagerly lapped up the cool water and devoured the food, purring appreciatively as it nestled in the woman's outstretched arms. u/NecessaryCornflake7
59. A large library is the backdrop for an unlikely duo - a half-orc barbarian and an elf wizard. The wizard is patiently instructing the half-orc in the basics of reading and writing, starting with the alphabet. Despite his gruff demeanor, the half-orc is evidently making progress and has already managed to learn a few letters. With a bit more time and effort, it's possible the half-orc could master the entire alphabet. u/NecessaryCornflake7
60. A regal demon prince lounged around a luxurious dinner table in a dimly lit hall, attended by a troupe of beguiling succubi, serving his every need. Standing awkwardly and aloof in front of the table, a tiefling warlock appeared. The demon prince smiled with a mischievous glint in his eye, and the two began a conversation concerning their previous contract. The demon prince insisted that he would aid the tiefling in finding her long-lost daughter, but in exchange, she must accept the corruption of pleasure and servitude. With great hesitation and a heavy heart, the tiefling reluctantly agreed. u/NecessaryCornflake7
61. The giant teenager was throwing a temper tantrum, demanding to her father that she be allowed to go out and smash any humanoids she could find in the vicinity. Her hulking father seemed to share her enthusiasm, but urged her to be mindful of not angering too many people at once. He wanted her to be strategic in her actions, so as not to draw too much attention or cause too much chaos. u/NecessaryCornflake7
62. The evil lich cackled maniacally in their shadowy crypt, admiring the intricate schematics of their sinister plot to conquer the world and bend its subjugated inhabitants to their will. Suddenly, one of the lich's skeletal servants happened to stumble into the table, causing several of the papers to scatter around the room. This provoked a violent outburst from the lich, who cast a necrotic spell to immediately annihilate the unfortunate minion. After regaining his composure, the lich retreated to his private chambers, where he encountered his undead kitten. Softening his expression, the lich began to pet the feline vigorously, seeking comfort in the small creature's presence. u/NecessaryCornflake7
63. The magical professor asked the class a question about the importance of proper speaking and gesturing to successfully cast a spell. One student raised their hand, and when allowed to answer, they replied, "You really need to address that wart, professor." This resulted in the class bursting into laughter, and the professor struggled to maintain composure as he demanded the student answer his question instead of distracting the class. u/NecessaryCornflake7
64. An ancient city, long forgotten and submerged beneath the depths of the ocean, emerged from the depths. The walls of the buildings were still covered in a variety of sea life. u/NecessaryCornflake7
65. The adventurers face a daunting task, standing before a portal to the demonic plane, surrounded by countless fallen demons. With a tremendous effort, one of the brave adventurers casts a powerful spell to banish the portal. In a climatic moment, the portal shatters, and the entire group watches in awe as the spell caster collapses to the ground in exhaustion. The rest of the party rallies around them in solidarity and support. u/NecessaryCornflake7
66. Several brilliant stars illuminated the landscape, gradually moving closer to one another. Suddenly, they collided and created a mesmerizing display of colors, with hues of blue, green, yellow, and red fanning out in all directions. A devastating force surged through the countryside, serenading the land with a beautiful yet destructive sight. u/NecessaryCornflake7
67. A heavy rainstorm swept in over the hilly pasture land, the moist wind whipping through the tall grass and bending it to its will. Streaks of lightning illuminated the dark, rain-filled sky, casting a dramatic backdrop to the scene. A small cluster of cows had huddled together under the shelter of a few trees, seeking safety and respite from the raging storm. u/NecessaryCornflake7
68. The warforged creature stands in the middle of a vast junkyard, its single arm and damaged leg starkly contrasting with the piles of gleaming metal and wooden pieces that surround it. Its glowing eyes search the mounds, hastily selecting a few choice pieces to inspect and fit onto its body. With its single arm, it delicately lifts a metal appendage and attaches it to the place where its missing limb should be. It then picks up a wooden leg and affixes it to its damaged one, replacing it with a functioning limb. After a few moments, the warforged tests out its new arm and leg, its body adapting to its newfound mobility. u/NecessaryCornflake7
69. A poor mother, surrounded by her children, sits together on the floor of a drab and sparsely furnished hut. As her children huddle around her, she gently guides them in a simple prayer for provision, asking for divine aid in these difficult times. As if in answer to their pleas, a knock suddenly sounds on the door. Upon opening it, the family finds a box filled with food, clothes, and other essential items donated by an anonymous figure with a knowing smile. Unbeknownst to the family, the mysterious individual is an agent of their deity, answering the prayer with a tangible act of kindness. u/NecessaryCornflake7
70. The old half-elf, dressed in luxurious noble robes and carrying an ornate ice staff, finished an important meeting with several rulers. After the meeting concluded, he stepped through a magical portal into a more private area. As soon as he emerged from the portal, the half-elf transformed into a majestic white dragon. With a powerful beat of its wings, it soared into the sky, flying off on a determined mission. u/NecessaryCornflake7