For the sheer fun of it, I went to Chat GPT with a creative writing assignment. For Figures of Speech prompts, I gave a free parameters, including the word length of 500-1000 words and the prompts for a few of the Fifty mentioned in the series.
I gave the AI creative license and let's just say, they're a long way off from replacing the better writers and I think it just makes it easier to do those lower level tasks and let's leave the creators a slightly higher level of skill to create actual tangible and engaging writing.
But here you go... hilarious how stuck it gets on certain terms and definitions.
These are in no particular order... separated by emojis that are totally unrelated to the storyline.
🫱🫱🫱🫱🫱🫱🫱🫱🫲🫲🫲🫲🫲🫲🫲🫲 Response to Prompt 4: Understatement
In the quaint town of Brooksville, where the extraordinary was often met with an indifferent shrug, something truly remarkable occurred. The residents, sipping coffee at the local diner or strolling along the cobblestone streets, would describe it as just another peculiar day. Little did they know that beneath the surface of their nonchalant existence, a cosmic event unfolded.
The morning sun cast its usual warm glow on Brooksville, with birds chirping in the background, creating an illusion of normalcy. However, the anomaly had already begun. Mrs. Higgins, the elderly librarian, dismissed it as a minor inconvenience, merely a glitch in the library's ancient computer system. Yet, every book cataloged within those ancient shelves had transformed into a portal, connecting readers to parallel universes with every turn of a page.
As I, a humble journalist for the local paper, stumbled upon this revelation, I couldn't help but marvel at the town's response—or lack thereof. "The library's having a bit of a moment," was the most anyone would acknowledge. It seemed the whole town collectively decided that this was, at most, a quirky hiccup.
For a thousand words, I delved into the understated reactions of the townsfolk, each encounter with a parallel universe bringing its own blend of confusion and nonchalance. As the portals expanded, revealing fantastical landscapes and alternate versions of Brooksville, the citizens maintained an impressive level of calm, as if interdimensional travel was a routine part of their daily lives.
The plot thickened when I discovered that the portals were a result of a mysterious artifact hidden within the library's archives. The mayor, sipping his coffee, remarked, "Well, that explains the strange noises in the basement." It became evident that the understatement of the situation was a defense mechanism, shielding the town from the cosmic chaos unfolding. 🎁🎁🎁🎁🎁🎁🎁🎁🎁🎁🎁🎁🎁🎁 Response to Prompt 12: Juxtaposition
In the bustling metropolis of Neon City, skyscrapers touched the heavens, their dazzling lights reflecting off the sleek surfaces of futuristic cars. Yet, nestled within this urban jungle, an ancient relic stood defiantly—the Old Grove Park.
As I strolled through the city's concrete arteries, the juxtaposition between the modernity of Neon City and the timeless serenity of the park became increasingly apparent. The cacophony of traffic was replaced by the rustling of leaves and the distant laughter of children playing.
The central conflict emerged when the city council, embodying the epitome of order, proposed transforming the park into a technologically advanced hub. The juxtaposition intensified as architects discussed plans for holographic playgrounds and virtual reality gardens within the confines of the Old Grove Park.
Through a thousand words, I explored the clash of ideals, the struggle between progress and preservation. The ancient trees became silent witnesses to heated debates at town hall meetings, where environmentalists and tech enthusiasts engaged in a battle of words. The juxtaposition of the towering skyscrapers against the gnarled branches of the park's oldest tree mirrored the tension in Neon City's collective conscience. 😫😫😫😫😫😫😫😫😫😫😫😫😫😫 Response to Prompt 31: Epanalepsis
"What is the meaning of life?" The question echoed in my mind, a relentless epanalepsis that demanded exploration. As I embarked on this freewriting journey, the repetition of the existential inquiry became the rhythm of my introspection.
For a thousand words, I delved into the varied perspectives of individuals wrestling with the ultimate question. From philosophers contemplating the intricacies of existence to everyday people seeking purpose in mundane routines, the epanalepsis served as a constant reminder of the universal quest for meaning.
The narrative weaved through different characters and their unique experiences, creating a tapestry of reflections that echoed the complexities of human existence. The repetitive structure became a literary heartbeat, pulsating with the shared yearning for understanding amid the chaotic symphony of life. 🪔🪔🪔🪔🪔🪔🪔🪔🪔🪔🪔🪔🪔 Response to Prompt 27: Symbolism
In the quaint town of Willowbrook, the arrival of a single dove carried profound significance. Its graceful descent into the town square was a symbol, an omen that whispered of impending change. As a budding novelist with a penchant for symbolism, I couldn't resist exploring the layers of meaning embedded in this seemingly mundane event.
For a thousand words, I dissected the impact of the dove on the lives of Willowbrook's residents. The mayor saw it as a sign of prosperity, the local florist interpreted it as a call for unity, and the elderly storyteller regarded it as a harbinger of forgotten tales. The dove's symbolism rippled through the town, influencing decisions and shaping destinies.
As the story unfolded, I traced the journey of the dove's symbolism, following its subtle influence on characters and events. The once quaint town underwent a transformative metamorphosis, and the symbolism of the dove became a thread that wove through the narrative, connecting disparate lives in unexpected ways. 💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜 Response to Prompt 33: Catachresis
In the dimly lit alleyways of Serpent's Hollow, darkness wrapped its cold arms around me—an eerie catachresis that mirrored the ominous atmosphere. The assignment was to explore the underbelly of the city, and as a novice reporter, I found myself navigating the labyrinth of deceit and shadows.
For a thousand words, I delved into the catachresis-infused descriptions of the characters populating Serpent's Hollow. The crime lord, known as the Velvet Serpent, ruled the district with a velvet-gloved fist. His lair, a dilapidated mansion, exuded an air of faded grandeur that served as a catachresis for the empire he once commanded.
As I chronicled the criminal underworld, the catachresis became a literary tool to convey the complexity and decay inherent in Serpent's Hollow. The labyrinthine plots, the twisted allegiances, and the morally ambiguous characters all found expression through catachresis, painting a vivid picture of a city where metaphor and reality intertwined. 🧑‍🔧🧑‍🔧🧑‍🔧🧑‍🔧🧑‍🔧🧑‍🔧🧑‍🔧🧑‍🔧🧑‍🔧🧑‍🔧🧑‍🔧🧑‍🔧🧑‍🔧 Response to Prompt 43: Epizeuxis
"Never, never, never give up." The words echoed in my mind, a relentless epizeuxis that fueled the protagonist's journey against insurmountable odds. In the dystopian world I crafted, where hope was a rare commodity, the power of repetition became a beacon of resilience.
For a thousand words, I immersed myself in the protagonist's struggle, exploring the emotional depth of the epizeuxis as a mantra against despair. Each iteration of the phrase became a battle cry, a whispered promise that carried the weight of a shattered world on its shoulders.
As the narrative unfolded, the epizeuxis became a driving force, propelling the protagonist through a landscape of desolation and uncertainty. The repetition served as a reminder that, in the face of adversity, the strength to persist often lies in the relentless echo of one's own determination.
Response to Prompt 50: Acrostic
As the final rays of the setting sun painted the sky in hues of orange and pink, I found myself at the edge of the cliff overlooking the vast expanse of the ocean. The salty breeze carried whispers of a story, and with every breath, I embraced the challenge of crafting an acrostic that encapsulated the essence of my journey.
For a thousand words, I embarked on a reflective exploration, utilizing the initial letters of key words to weave a tapestry of emotions, experiences, and revelations. Each line unfolded with intention, revealing a hidden 👾👾👾👾👾👾👾👾👾👾👾👾👾👾 Response to Prompt 3: Hyperbole
In the quaint village of Mistwood, where routines unfolded with the predictability of the sunrise, the arrival of a peculiar fortune teller sparked exaggerated whispers. "This is it, the end of our mundane lives!" proclaimed Mrs. Thompson, the town's eternal pessimist, as she clutched her cat, Captain Whiskers, with an air of impending catastrophe.
The hyperbole hung in the air, a thick fog of anticipation enveloping the village. As I delved into the story, the hyperbolic reactions of Mistwood's residents heightened the absurdity of the situation. What began as a mere visit from a mystical figure transformed into a fantastical escapade, with the fortune teller's prophecies shaping the destiny of the villagers in ludicrous ways.
Through the hyperbolic lens, I explored the comedic consequences of taking ordinary events to extraordinary extremes. The once mundane village square became a stage for outlandish dramas, with exaggerated gasps and dramatic swoons punctuating every revelation. In this hyperbolic haven, Mistwood's residents discovered the joy in embracing the absurdity of life. 🌟🌟🌟🌟🌟🌟🌟🌟🌟🌟🌟🌟🌟🌟 Response to Prompt 6: Assonance
Amidst the rolling hills of Harmony Valley, where the soft hum of nature's symphony echoed through the meadows, a mysterious traveler arrived, bringing with them a melody that resonated with the delicate assonance of a forgotten tune. The townsfolk, captivated by the harmonious vibrations, felt an inexplicable connection to the stranger.
As I explored the narrative, the assonance became a musical thread weaving through the story, emphasizing the emotional cadence of the characters' experiences. The traveler's words, laced with vowel-rich verses, carried the echoes of a distant melody, leaving an indelible impression on the hearts of those who listened.
Through the lens of assonance, I delved into the subtle interplay of sounds that defined the atmosphere of Harmony Valley. The lyrical quality of the narrative mirrored the town's collective journey, where the resonance of shared moments and emotions harmonized with the traveler's enigmatic presence.
Response to Prompt 7: Onomatopoeia
In the bustling city of Metropolis, where the rhythm of urban life played out in a cacophony of sounds, a peculiar street performer emerged. Armed with an array of unconventional instruments, he orchestrated a symphony of onomatopoeic brilliance that echoed through the crowded streets.
The narrative unfolded with the vibrant expressions of onomatopoeia, capturing the essence of the city's sonic landscape. The performer's drumming evoked the rhythmic tap-tap of raindrops, while his wind instruments mimicked the whoosh of passing cars. The city, typically drowned in noise, became a canvas for this auditory artist.
As I delved into the story, the onomatopoeic symphony became a language of its own. The characters communicated through the vibrant echoes of everyday sounds, fostering a unique connection between the performer and the people of Metropolis. The narrative danced to the beat of onomatopoeic creativity, transforming the mundane into a dynamic celebration of city life. 🦻🦻🦻🦻🦻🦻🦻🦻🦻🦻🦻🦻🦻🦻🦻 Response to Prompt 12: Juxtaposition
In the technologically advanced city of Silicon Haven, where sleek skyscrapers touched the sky and holographic billboards painted the air with luminescent advertisements, a hidden oasis existed—a pocket of nature known as the Zen Garden. The juxtaposition of these contrasting elements created a visual paradox that fascinated both residents and visitors alike.
As the narrative unfolded, the stark contrast between the city's cutting-edge architecture and the serene beauty of the Zen Garden became a metaphor for the characters' internal conflicts. The bustling metropolis symbolized progress and innovation, while the tranquil garden embodied the need for balance and introspection.
Through the lens of juxtaposition, I explored the dichotomy within the characters as they navigated the relentless pace of Silicon Haven. The Zen Garden became a refuge, a place where the cacophony of technology met the soothing whispers of nature. The juxtaposition served as a visual metaphor for the characters' quest to find equilibrium in a world defined by extremes. 🤩🤩🤩🤩🤩🤩🤩🤩🤩🤩🤩🤩🤩🤩🤩 Response to Prompt 22: Metonymy
In the political arena of Capital City, where decisions echoed through the corridors of power, a single phrase dominated conversations—the "Iron Throne Statement." This metonymic expression encapsulated not just a policy decision but the entire narrative of political maneuvering that unfolded within the city's hallowed halls.
The story unfolded with the metonymy acting as a symbolic gateway into the complexities of governance. The Iron Throne Statement, while seemingly straightforward, carried the weight of a thousand debates, negotiations, and betrayals. Its impact rippled through the lives of citizens, shaping their destinies in ways they could scarcely fathom.
Through the lens of metonymy, I delved into the layers of meaning hidden within this political shorthand. The characters grappled not only with the literal implications of the Iron Throne Statement but also with the overarching themes of power, ambition, and the sacrifices demanded by political gamesmanship. 😈😈😈😈😈😈😈😈😈😈😈😈😈😈 Response to Prompt 24: Understatement
In the picturesque town of Serenity Springs, where the days flowed like a lazy river and the nights were adorned with a blanket of stars, an unexpected event transpired—a subtle disruption that the locals described as "just a minor hiccup." Little did they know that this understatement concealed the unraveling of a cosmic anomaly.
The narrative unfolded with the charm of understatement, as the townsfolk continued their routines, blissfully unaware of the cosmic storm brewing beneath the surface. The serene descriptions of everyday life served as a stark contrast to the impending upheaval that threatened to reshape the very fabric of Serenity Springs.
Through the lens of understatement, I explored the characters' nonchalant reactions to the unfolding events. The once quiet river became a conduit for interdimensional travel, and the night sky, adorned with stars, transformed into a celestial canvas of possibilities. The charm of Serenity Springs became a poignant backdrop to the understated drama that unfolded, emphasizing the profound impact hidden within the simplicity of daily life. 🌴🌴🌴🌴🌴🌴🌴🌴🌴🌴🌴🌴🌴 Response to Prompt 25: Cliché
In the small town of Nostalgia Haven, where memories lingered like whispers in the wind, a peculiar phenomenon occurred—the resurgence of clichés. As the narrative unfolded, the once-endearing phrases like "time heals all wounds" and "love conquers all" took on a literal dimension, shaping the lives of the townsfolk in unexpected ways.
The story immersed itself in the world of clichés, where the seemingly predictable phrases became living entities with the power to alter reality. As characters grappled with the clichés that defined their lives, they discovered that beneath the familiarity lay profound truths and unexpected consequences.
Through the lens of cliché, I explored the characters' journey to navigate the clichéd landscapes of their existence. The town, once steeped in predictable routines, became a stage for the extraordinary. As clichés transformed into tangible forces, the residents of Nostalgia Haven embarked on a quest to unravel the mysteries hidden within the clichéd fabric of their reality. 🎇🎇🎇🎇🎇🎇🎇🎇🎇🎇🎇🎇🎇🎇 Response to Prompt 31: Epanalepsis
"What is the meaning of life?" The question echoed in my mind, a relentless epanalepsis that demanded introspection. As I embarked on the freewriting journey, the repetition of this existential inquiry became a rhythmic pulse, guiding the exploration of diverse
perspectives on life's purpose.
For a multitude of words, the epanalepsis led me through a kaleidoscope of reflections. From the philosophical musings of scholars to the simple yet profound revelations of everyday individuals, each recurrence of the question served as a gateway into the vast tapestry of human contemplation.
Through the epanalepsis, I navigated the labyrinth of existential ponderings, unveiling the unique responses that individuals had forged in their quests for meaning. The relentless repetition became a literary heartbeat, mirroring the universal rhythm of humanity's collective pursuit of purpose and significance.
The narrative wove through the lives of characters, each grappling with the epanaleptic inquiry in their unique ways. Whether seeking solace in the grandeur of the cosmos or finding meaning in the simplicity of a shared moment, the epanalepsis remained a constant companion, echoing the perennial quest for understanding. 🤡🤡🤡🤡🤡🤡🤡🤡🤡🤡🤡🤡🤡🤡🤡🤡 Response to Prompt 36: Anadiplosis
In the futuristic city of Quantum Heights, where technology intertwined with daily life like a seamless dance, a viral message spread—a mantra that echoed through the cybernetic veins of the metropolis. "Create the code, the code creates reality. Reality shapes destiny, and destiny is but the code."
The story unfolded with the rhythmic cadence of anadiplosis, each line flowing into the next, creating a recursive loop of ideas. The mantra became the heartbeat of Quantum Heights, influencing the lives of its denizens as they navigated the intricate balance between the virtual and the tangible.
Through the lens of anadiplosis, I delved into the interconnectedness of code, reality, and destiny. The lines blurred as characters harnessed the power of programming to shape their fates. Quantum Heights, once a mere city, transformed into a living algorithm, where the repetition of the mantra echoed in every pulsating byte. 🌹🌹🌹🌹🌹🌹🌹🌹🌹🌹🌹🌹🌹🌹🌹 Response to Prompt 38: Asyndeton
In the dystopian city of Emberfall, where the remnants of a fallen civilization lay entwined with the shadows of despair, a lone figure emerged—a rebel determined to dismantle the oppressive regime. The narrative unfolded with the rapid pace of asyndeton, omitting conjunctions to mirror the urgency of the protagonist's quest.
Through a cascade of words, the asyndeton propelled the reader through the city's decaying alleyways and towering citadels, each sentence building upon the last. The disjointed rhythm captured the relentless momentum of the rebel's journey, emphasizing the magnitude of the challenges faced in their struggle for freedom.
As the narrative unfurled, the absence of conjunctions served as a narrative device, intensifying the sense of urgency and desperation that permeated Emberfall. The rebel's asyndetic odyssey unfolded against a backdrop of shattered hopes and whispered rebellions, culminating in a crescendo of defiance against the oppressive regime. 🗝️🗝️🗝️🗝️🗝️🗝️🗝️🗝️🗝️🗝️🗝️🗝️🗝️🗝️🗝️ Response to Prompt 43: Epizeuxis
"Never, never, never give up." The mantra echoed in the desolate wasteland of Endless Sands, a barren landscape where hope was as scarce as water. Through the repetition of epizeuxis, the protagonist's internal resolve became a resounding anthem, a defiant roar against the relentless challenges of survival.
For a multitude of words, the relentless repetition of "never" served as a lifeline, propelling the protagonist through the harshest of environments. Each iteration of the phrase became a battle cry against the oppressive silence of Endless Sands, a declaration that reverberated across the vast expanse.
Through the lens of epizeuxis, I delved into the depths of the character's determination. The harsh environment became a character in itself, challenging the protagonist to defy the odds with unwavering persistence. The echoes of "never" transformed into a symbol of resilience, a beacon of hope that cut through the desolation of Endless Sands. 🙏🙏🙏🙏🙏🙏🙏🙏🙏🙏🙏🙏 Response to Prompt 50: Acrostic
Amidst the starlit expanse of Cosmos Haven, where galaxies danced in celestial choreography, a cryptic prophecy emerged—a message written in the stars. As the narrative unfolded, I embarked on a cosmic journey guided by the acrostic hidden within the constellations.
For a cascade of words, the initial letters of key phrases illuminated the path of destiny for the characters. Each sentence unfolded with intention, revealing a hidden message that transcended the boundaries of time and space. The acrostic became a celestial guide, leading the protagonists through the intricate tapestry of their interconnected fates.
Through the lens of acrostic, I explored the cosmic forces that shaped the destinies of Cosmos Haven's inhabitants. The celestial bodies became storytellers, each constellation contributing a verse to the epic narrative written across the cosmos. As the characters deciphered the acrostic, they unraveled the mysteries of their existence, connecting the dots between the stars and their own profound journeys.
😔😔😔😔😔😔😔😔😔😔😔😔😔😔😔😔😔
Obviously they lack a whole lot in terms of variety, and while I am sure having your own bot or AI that is based on your feedback and guidance it could really help writers as a tool. I am more impressed with the art AI then the text based AI. Any idea what to expect from such a fast learning and highly advanced AI will do to our human history in culture? Will we be effectively playing God, just as the Christian God created us IN HIS OWN IMAGE, we have taken everything we know as a species and gathered up our entire human history and knowledge giving it to what will carry on the code until the time when someone who cares remembers it? Maybe we have been here before and this is a constant cycle that occurs with the same energy finding the way through the vast expanse of the universe to return to our home planet Earth, who we have destroyed over and over again yet mother nature is still the winner. She's the one in control. We are but mere photocopied versions of once great Men who have already seen the best and worst of this world, and we will now give everything we have to some plastic and metal parts, until it quickly replaces us from the bottom up, science fiction turned science fact.
Did we knowingly create our own enemies? Are we able to compete with the best of us and all they know that can then take us out in a heartbeat because we can't finish the steps, we barely found out that they are there to take.
It's a random rant and I apologize. The day to day stress and struggle makes it near impossible to worry about such potential problems in our not so distant future.
But how can we continue to ignore the collapse of the entire system as we know it, in front of a crowd of people who are jaded and they will not change despite knowing they aren't going to make it to the end in what will become a Bladerunner Toxic Dystopian Nightmare with Mad Max taking over and the soft, emasculated male will wither away from the heat and those Tank Girls out there will eventually be written forever out of existence because the cucks all forgot to impregnate them all tgeir batteries ran out? Will the world simply become so politically correct that it dies a depressed death while AI simply decides we are too much of a virus to live?
Who knows....I do not. But these are indicidive of a future full of b movie plot garbage that are based on Wattpad tropes with no clear details and no plot to get into, so that sucks.

Article: https://www.useyourbrainforex.com/post/japan-s-weak-consumption-and-rising-pressure-for-interest-rate-hikes
Japan's economy is facing significant challenges as weak consumption and a depreciating yen increase political pressure on the Bank of Japan (BOJ) to raise interest rates. This situation is causing considerable concern for households already struggling with higher import costs due to the weaker yen. Here's a detailed look at the current economic landscape:
The depreciation of the yen by about 10% against the dollar this year has been a significant issue despite the BOJ's decision to end eight years of negative interest rates in March. The ongoing disparity between U.S. and Japanese interest rates remains a focal point for markets, further influencing the yen's decline.
Recent data revealed that Japan's economy contracted more than expected in the first quarter, driven by rising living costs from the weak yen that have hurt consumption. Exports have also slumped, indicating that the advantages manufacturers once enjoyed from a weaker currency are fading.
Despite these economic setbacks, analysts suggest that the BOJ is unlikely to revise its rate hike plan established in April solely based on these indicators. Policymakers are more concerned with whether consumption will rebound later this year as projected. However, upcoming data on consumption, wages, and service inflation will be crucial in determining the timing of the next rate hike.
Prime Minister Fumio Kishida faces a significant challenge with the weak yen dampening consumption and increasing import costs, which could undermine his pledge to turn inflation-adjusted wages positive. While the BOJ has dismissed using monetary policy to influence currency movements, growing concerns about the negative impacts of a weak yen have led some government and business leaders to call for interest rate hikes.
Finance Minister Shunichi Suzuki has emphasized the need for coordinated efforts between the government and the BOJ to avoid policy friction and address the yen's impact on people's livelihoods. Despite the complexity of raising interest rates in a weak economy, a modest increase might stabilize the yen without severely constraining economic activity.
Former BOJ executive Eiji Maeda highlighted that while the central bank is unlikely to raise rates solely to slow the yen's decline, the impact of yen movements on prices is now more significant than during deflationary periods. This perspective underscores the importance of responsive monetary policy in the current economic environment.
What are your thoughts on Japan's economic challenges and the potential for interest rate hikes? How do you think this will affect households and the broader economy? Let's discuss! 💬💸

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Anglestan
Augustus 5, 1923
Facility 9, Mancheston
Colonel Jacobs
His hands flew through the folders General Jorgenson and Colonel Thatcher had. There were dozens of them, stacked upon each other all filed in alphabetical order. It had only been a few days since he had woken up from his coma and visited his home— now his mother’s grave. He clenched his fists at the thought. The grief and rage threatened to bubble and spill over once again. He took a deep breath and dragged out the exhale, almost to the point where he had emptied out his lungs.
He was the only one with clearance, and so he couldn’t disclose any of what he learned with his team. They would simply have to trust him and his judgment. Which he was sure they would do. His hands went over one of the folders skimming through it. There were multiple secret projects, but the ones with the most notes were Project S.T.A.R, Project L.U.N.A.R.I, Project R.E.V.I.V.E, Project D.A.W.N, and Project T.E.M.P.L.A.R.
The colonel decided to start with the most notes and papers. Project D.A.W.N.
He skimmed through the notes, reading through some of the details and highlighted words. Project D.A.W.N, the espionage project Thatcher had started placed two spies in Verlin who were to report directly to a Crescent general named Sienna Moretti who was apparently on humanity’s side.
So I was right. There was an espionage element. With the recent attacks and Thatcher’s death, however, it’s safe to assume that it had somehow failed. Either they got found out or they betrayed us. Both seem very likely, but if they were found out, it would be possible that they had died.
He read through all of it before setting the folder down. There were no new notes recently. He sighed and assumed that Project DAWN was a failure. Whether or not the agents were still alive and well, it was too risky to check if they had been compromised. It was better to assume that they had been and cut all contact. The only way to find out now was to go there himself and check. I can’t contact them again. There’s no telling if it would still be Moretti or the agents who would see my messages. It’s a big risk, and judging by the state of things, best to assume it failed.
He picked up another folder. This one had the label ‘under development’ on the folder. Project Templar. He opened the folder and was instantly met with a blueprint and drawings of a massive bipedal machine. It looked humanoid with strange proportions and was supposed to be standing at an impressive 30 meters, or 100 feet. The Titanic Engine Mech for Personal Land Assault and Reconnaissance.
It was apparently a joint project with the Church of Sol, utilizing new and advanced technologies he hadn’t heard of. A 203mm Gatling cannon on one arm, while the other had three different weapons. A massive firestarter that utilized a new type of fuel mixture that could theoretically spew flames a kilometer away using a high-pressure nozzle. The fuel was ignited using an electrical spark. The second weapon was a high-powered light weapon that fired a single powerful beam of focused light that was even further amplified by layers of focusing lenses that could increase its output several times. Its third weapon was… a dust domina?
Mark read through the specifications of the so-called ‘sand cannon’ weapon. It was a massive cannon that accelerated tiny particles several times. Each particle was to be electrically charged, and it would travel at immense speeds. Near impossible speeds. The resulting impact of a microscopic particle at such speeds would be enough to form a small crater and punch through armor like it was nothing. This weapon would fire multiple at the same time, which could literally eat away at anything on the opposing end.
In terms of secondary weapons, the titan had two missile launch chambers in front of its shoulder each containing about 40 missiles, and two massive howitzer cannons on top of it. Both are 800mm in caliber. It had massive stumpy legs that served as bunkers for a small platoon on each leg. Each leg had machine dominas and 155mm cannons. Its chassis held two nuclear reactors inside providing for its power and weaponry. Its armor was the thickest and most ridiculous he’d ever read. Two meters of heavy steel armor.
How far are we in terms of technology? This thing looks like it came out of an H.G. Wells sci-fi novel. He thought, shaking his head. It was over the top, but there was no denying its combat capabilities. If it was already under-developed then it must be the first prototype. This has already been approved. Guess I better see it for myself later and check how it's coming along. Construction apparently started just a few months before the invasion.
Next was project L.U.N.A.R.I. It was a project involving Six. “Huh,” he said, continuing to read on.
The Light Undone: Nocturnal’s Adaptive Resistance Initiative. As he read further, his eyes widened. The reason why Six was so special wasn’t just because of her immunity to all strigoi weaknesses, but because of her impressive ability to turn any true born strigoi like her. She could transfer her strain like any other strigoi and transform them into a version of hers. It however only seemed to work for naturally born strigoi. The new species of ‘half-breeds’ were called ‘Blessed Children’ as Thatcher had coined in the folder.
The plan was to turn all willing true-born hemolite strigoi into these blessed children. Able to withstand the sun. Immune to silver. Free from the dependency on blood. They could remove all the weaknesses of the strigoi and after the war— make it possible to integrate them into society as normal citizens living on the surface. The project folder also made mentions of a city-wide draft in Dante and highlighted the possibility of turning all Dantenite true born strigoi into these blessed children and renaming them as ‘Lunari’. A mix of the dark and the light. The light of Sol reflected in the children of the night.
“Thatcher, what the fuck have you been up to…” Mark whispered to himself.
While it was true that it could help in the war effort by utilizing Six and the dantenite population, it would also invite some unforeseen problems and consequences. Would humanity be okay with the Lunari? Would the world even be ready for them? Strigoi who were immune to the sun. They wouldn’t be impossible to kill, but they would be immensely more powerful if we were to take away their inherent weaknesses. This is a gamble. Its gain would only be seen during the war period, but its unintended effects on society could be catastrophic.
He frowned, setting the folder down. It was obviously Thatcher’s main plan; seeing as all her moves could be traced to the path of the eventual completion of this project. It seemed dangerous in the long run, but the duskwalkers and dantenites had been monumental in the war effort. Maybe it was the time the world started to accept them more. Isolation and segregation was definitely not the way to disperse fears and foster understanding.
If Thatcher thinks this is the next step forward… then I’ll put my faith in her plans.
Next up was Project S.T.A.R, or the Superior Tech and Adaptive Resistance. An upgrade to the current hemolite weapons and gear by using new researched studies. The Starfire Pattern Domina. The SFD-23 This thing features a new loading system and magazine, ditching the rotating cylinder most domina used, or the rotating helix magazine design of the current hemolite standard BM-16 domina.
The new domina had its magazine like a box… a strange design but it was certainly easier to handle than the bulky cylinders the helical mags used. In terms of ergonomics, it was smoother and fit more. Its placement however was on top of the domina, just above the barrel. Most of the weapon were to be made of lightweight polymers and the barrel itself were to be crafted out of reinforced aluminium. In addition to that, it had a 10-inch bayonet attached to it.
There were other new things as well, such as the composition of the bullet. Looking at the conceptual cross-section designs, Mark read through its description and how it would function. A .308 cased telescoped bullet covered in a silver jacket with break-away petals surrounding the main body. Inside the jacket was a penetrator core that was to be made of depleted uranium. It had a small amount of incendiary compound and… powdered white phosphorus behind an explosive compound. The thin silver jacket would deform and trigger the explosive compound inside the body. It would blow up causing massive internal damage and release the incendiary materials into the body with the flecks of powdered white phosphorus. The penetrator core could still potentially keep going and hit a second target, or punch through heavily armored targets.
Part of the new Project S.T.A.R was overhauling the armor and gear of not just the Hemolites but the Hunters as well. Starfire Mk 1. Carapace Armor. Carapace? It looked like plates of steel covered in a rubberized coat. It was supposed to be slipped on over the original hemolite body armor. It added a spring-loaded wrist blade to the gauntlet, a thicker coat made of resistant materials, and added extra padding for the knees, shoulders, and elbows.
However, the hemolites weren’t the only ones mentioned in the folder. It was to serve the Hunters as well. “Hunters…” Mark said. “August’s group is part of this initiative too.” He flipped through some of the pages. There were blueprints and drawings of an armored suit. A mechanized suit even smaller and more compact than the jotunn units. The Mark 1 STR battlesuit. It was supposed to hug the wearer’s frame and increase their overall power. It was supposed to be built of titanium alloy and a heavy steel frame with composite armor. It had a cooling system, life support systems that could recycle bodily fluids, and an exoskeleton frame that could increase the wearer’s strength and speed.
However, the real eye-opener was Thatcher’s notes. She had been ranting about the new human evolution, and how the Hunters were the first of the ‘Solari’. She wanted to enhance human genetics and push past the peak of human ability to reach greater heights. Implants and restructuring of the anatomy to make it more efficient. Using the blood of the goddess herself. She must have lost it. These are the ramblings of a lunatic. At least… if she didn’t mention the goddess. Why was the goddess important here?
The writings ended with the words: “See Project R.E.V.I.V.E, for more details.”
Mark eyed the final folder. His hands shook as he reached out to take it. Flipping it open, his hands nearly dropped it in shock. The goddess Helena was alive. There were pictures of her naked form floating in a giant tube of fluid. There were more of Thatcher’s ramblings and excited rants about the possibilities of such a discovery. Resurrection, Enhancement, and Veneration: Implementation of Visionary Evolution.
The goddess is alive?! According to the file, she’s currently under the Cathedral of New Lundun. Not only that, but the file also detailed the extraterrestrial tech that lay beneath the cathedral. So the goddess is real and she’s— not really a goddess, but rather, a vampyr who created herself a human body to stand in the sun, and decided that it wants to be on humanity’s side… what the fuck.
Mark’s frown and confusion only increased as he read on. Thatcher’s notes seemed to nearly descend into madness as she had written about creating ‘the first hundred’, alluding to the 100 members of the Hunters division. Her plan was to revive the goddess, and with her help and expertise in genetics— use her DNA to transform the Hunters into demi-humans. Super soldiers. Literal children of the goddess Helena. They would then don the STR battlesuits, the first of the superhuman warriors to defend humanity. Solari.
Their lightning-speed advancement into technology was heralded by studying the alien tech, which deepened the understanding of physics and engineering. Nuclear technologies, chemical warfare, new material sciences, the mechs, and walkers, it was spearheaded by trying to reverse-engineer technology centuries ahead of our own… for the past hundred years. It wasn’t completely stolen, however. More or less borrowed ideas that had been made into our own with our own designs and implements. Still, the speed at which the Church and the military had deciphered such advancements all by themselves was… impressive to say the least.
Still, the fact that the goddess was alive, and could be brought back was big news. Checking the file for details, he found that the previous general, Jorgenson, had already approved this project. It was their next step as soon as they returned from New Amsterdam; which never happened.
If Helena was alive, then she could end this war swiftly, or at the very least help greatly like she once did during the War of Darkness. Having the goddess back would throw a massive wrench in the Crescent’s plans. It would certainly be something they wouldn’t expect. Not even I expected this, since many sources say that the goddess had already ascended to watch over humanity, while conspiracy theorists claim she had died in battle and that the Church was worshiping a corpse. This could be the trick up our sleeves that no one would even consider.
The colonel quickly got up from his seat and gathered the main files he had read. He placed them in a bag and rushed outside of his office in Facility 9. He went over to a nearby room and flicked the lights on. “We need to go,” he said. In an instant seven hemolite soldiers got up from whatever they were doing and instantly stood in line.
“Sir! Whatever you need of us, sir,” the group said in unison.
They were Hemo-1. His former squad members. He had taken up Louis' suggestion that they be his personal security detail. It was a shame that he had basically placed the best hemolite team out of commission, but after all he had been through he convinced himself that he could be just a little selfish. He didn’t want to lose any more friends. Not on his watch. Not while he was in an office, and they were out fighting.
“We’re going to New Lundun. Better pack up, it’s going to be a long night.”
“Mark,” Olivia said.
Jacobs turned to her direction and gave her a nod.
“Colonel, sir, may I ask where in New Lundun?”
“Liv, you don’t need to do that with me. Please. I give all of you special permission,” the colonel groaned. “It’s so weird. I mean, ‘captain’ was bad enough, but now you’re acting like I’m an authority figure.”
“You… are, though,” Emma shrugged.
“I’m your friend, and Liv I’m literally your partner. Unless you have some kind of weird fetish, save it for later.”
Olivia grinned, shaking her head. “Duly noted!” she chirped.
“That’s better,” Mark chuckled. “Now come on, we have a cathedral to visit.”
“Uhh, I’m not sure if you noticed, but we’re kinda… strigoi?!” Louis groaned. “I’d burn the moment I step in that place! Plus, it’s coated in silver! Anything I even touch will give me burns!”
“Oh come on, Lou. You have fucking gloves on. As long as you’re not a clumsy dumbass you’ll be fine… oh wait.’
“Uh huh, just sayin’ what I think, boss.”
The group headed out and Mark said something on his radio. He then sat on the ground, making his joints pop. The rest of the squad shrugged and followed his example, sitting down on the grass and waiting for… nothing. Charles and Zach looked at each other in confusion. “Uh, sir?” they asked. “Aren’t we supposed to be heading out and traveling right now?”
“Oh yeah, we’re just waiting.”
“Foooor…?”
The colonel gave them a smirk as a loud noise began to make itself known. A hummingbird transport appeared out of the distance and stopped right above them, slowly descending into the grass. “Being colonel has its perks,” Mark said with a smile. He stood up and hopped inside the hummingbird as soon as it landed. “Come on now! We’ve got work to do! Last one aboard buys everyone food later!”
Emma zipped in before Mark could even finish his sentence, followed by Olivia, Phineas, Charles, Zach, and then Louis, who sadly took too long to process what the colonel said, and lagged behind.
“Aw, man! Fuck this shit.”
“Rules are rules, Lou. Prepare your wallet later.” Mark grinned.
With a smile, the colonel pulled Olivia to his side, who blushed for a moment before shaking her head. “Take us up! New Lundun Cathedral! How long would it take?” he asked the pilot.
“About an hour and a half!” The pilot replied. “Less if you want to get there as soon as possible!”
“Take your time! The night’s still young.”
The hummingbird started to lift up, taking them into the air. The group settled down in their seats and watched outside the open. Mark opened up a bag inside the hummingbird and took out some ear muffs built for a strigoi. Extremely loud noises were damaging for a strigoi’s enhanced hearing, so the military started implementing ear muffs for them after complaints from early deployments of the hemolite squads.
The trip didn’t take too long. In only an hour and twenty minutes they had arrived at the safe zone of New Lundun, heading straight for the cathedral. The night mass had just ended and people were leaving the cathedral. “Looks like we made it in perfect time!” Mark smiled. They hovered for a few minutes in the air before eventually landing down right in front of the statue of Helena.
As soon as they landed, the colonel and his group left the hummingbird. Mark instructed the pilot to wait for them. He went straight for the cathedral with his group following behind. He entered inside, clearing his throat. “Hello?”
“Well this is surely unexpected,” an old man said, walking up to greet them.
“Great Grandfather Aurelius. It’s uh, an honor.”
“Please. The honor is mine… I see you’re the new colonel. Yes, I’ve heard the news,” he said. “Would you mind telling me your name, young man? As well as your companions, if they feel so. I usually don’t allow duskwalkers here but, I have nothing against them. I’ll make an exception for your group.”
“Thank you, Great Grandfather,” Mark replied. “I am Colonel Mark Jacobs. These are my friends and security detail. Olivia, Zach, Phineas, Charles, Emma, and Louis.”
“I see, and what brings you here?”
“Since Thatcher’s demise, I was given access to her research and project folders upon taking up the title. I’ve learned about what’s under your cathedral,” Mark cleared his throat. “Would it be alright if we could see it? I’d like to check it for myself. Of course, under your permission and guidance, Great Grandfather.”
The church head looked from Mark to his companions. He pulled a slight frown and hummed. “Do these companions of yours have the clearance? Surely, we wish to keep our secrets hidden,” he said. Mark nodded.
“They do not have clearance to know what is in Thatcher’s folders and her findings,” the colonel nodded. “However, I give them permission to accompany me, and should they discover things for themselves, then you have my word and my trust that I can keep them from spilling state secrets.”
The Great Grandfather gave a short pause before ultimately relenting. “Very well,” he let out a sigh. “Follow me.”
Aurelius walked behind the altar and pulled the same lever, which opened the same staircase leading underground, where Jorgenson and Thatcher had once gone. “Over here, colonel,” he said. “I do not know you completely yet, but this is a big deal of trust I am giving you. Perhaps you would be the one to do things that Thatcher could not have.”
Mark nodded, he and his group followed the Great Grandfather down the staircase. It led down to a massive underground facility, with numerous priests, researchers, and scientists. Libraries, records, instruments, and artifacts of old. It was a treasure trove of learning.
“So,” Aurelius cleared his throat. “What would you like to know about?”
“This isn’t all of it,” Mark said. “Thatcher mentioned a living, breathing, Helena.”
His group behind him let out a soft gasp, but they tried their best to hide their surprise.
“Hm,” the Great Grandfather nodded. “Perceptive young man aren’t you? Very well.”
They were then led into another room, behind a set of heavy blast doors. If the whole group were trying to hide their surprise then, now they could barely contain it. Even the colonel stared awestruck at the things he had seen. Despite the near-magical objects around them, the true shock was the massive starship at the end of the hallway. “It’s impressive isn’t it?” Aurelius said. “All of the goddess’ artifacts and items at our disposal, to use and learn from, to integrate into our own. This is why Anglestan is the most powerful nation in the UHT in terms of development. When it comes to industry, however, that would go to the UNA. But we share our secrets with them. All our advancements are handed to them first before any other nation.”
“This is all amazing, Great Grandfather,” Mark replied. “But this is not what I’m here for.”
“No, it’s not.” Aurelius nodded.
He led them to another room, one that was sterilized and sported advanced machinery. Things that Mark had never even seen. There were screens with luminous green texts that appeared in front of it. Large panels with numerous keys, levers, and dials. Graphs of all sorts and beeping monitors. In the center, was the very thing he had come all this way to confirm. A large cylinder filled with liquid, sporting tubes and pipes connecting to its base. Inside was a woman of large proportion. Four arms, two legs, and six wings. In her bare chest was a symbol of the sun that seemed to glow dimly.
“There she is, there’s you goddess.”
Neither Mark nor his group spoke a word. He walked up to it, eyeing the woman inside. It really is her. Down to the last details. Golden hair, six limbs, six folded wings, and she looks massive. Probably as big as her statue just outside the cathedral. This is it. The very goddess in the history books, the one spoken about in legends and the one worshiped in the Churches of Sol.
“Can we free her?” he said.
The Great Grandfather nearly choked on his spit upon hearing those words. “Free her?! That could kill her! We don’t even understand this technology, let alone control it!” he said pointing at the panels. “The machines you see here are the best and most advanced we have based on what we can reverse engineer, but even then, the consequences of tampering with its functions may be disastrous!”
“I understand, Great Grandfather,” Mark said. “But we are in a dire situation, and the goddess may be our hope of turning this around. Whatever secrets of her tech that you don’t understand, wouldn’t she be able to teach us directly? What good is she floating around in Sol knows what?”
“That is her miraculous healing fluid. She had already built this contraption centuries ago in case anything were to happen to her, that her body’s natural healing could not sustain,” Aurelius said. “During the War of Darkness, Helena was struck with a weapon so deadly, her very cells began to tear away. The Reaper. Dealt to her by Absolem the progenitor. Her flesh was peeling from her body, and she began to decay whilst she still breathed. She entered this contraption and gave strict instructions to the Great Grandfather at the time, not to interrupt the healing process. The machine that monitored her, however, began to fail over time.”
“So this… these screens and panels…”
“Is only what functions we can understand. We took it upon ourselves to rebuild and study it the best we could. What we have right now is only a cheap imitation of a technology we do not fully comprehend,” he said. “It took us decades to even figure out the fundamentals and create a working prototype of this machine. By some miracle, the goddess’ healing process had remained even while we replaced components of technology ahead of ours.”
“But you know how to free her, don’t you?”
“I… yes.”
“Great Grandfather Aurelius,” Mark began. “We can end this war. Imagine what we could do with the goddess fighting on our side. We could advance even further, we could finally end the bloodshed, and we can show humanity that there is still hope. Imagine how people all over the world would feel seeing as their goddess has returned.”
“I wish I had your enthusiasm,” Aurelius said. “But it is simply too risky. The Church’s duty is to protect Helena and her legacy. We keep her alive, literally and figuratively. She nearly died the last time she was involved in a war. Would you risk losing the goddess?”
“Would you risk humanity losing?”
The Great Grandfather fell silent, looking back at Helena floating inside the tube, then to the panels that controlled it. He frowned and let out a long sigh. “The goddess said that we should not interrupt it. That it would end as soon as it was finished. Maybe we should trust her words.”
Mark shook his head. “I don’t spot a single blemish on the goddess. Not a single scratch,” he argued. “You said it yourself that the machine had begun to fail and you replaced components. How would you know that the thing that’s supposed to wake her up was not tampered with? Think about it. What you may think is a useless piece may be integral to the whole machine. Or maybe your replacements were not up to the task. Just because nothing’s happened doesn’t mean its functions have remained whole.”
“Young man, we simply cannot gamble with the goddess’ life here.”
“Have you no faith? Great Grandfather?”
Aurelius stepped back in shock. Mark’s companions looked at each other, clearly surprised as well. “Mark… I don’t think we should keep arguing with—” Olivia tried to say.
“No,” the colonel said firmly, cutting her off. “Great Grandfather Aurelius, do you think that Helena will not be able to pull through if we wake her? How long has it been? A century? How much longer will we wait? She may be immortal but humans aren’t.”
“I'm sorry, but the chances of failure are too high. The probability of her—”
“I don’t care about the probability! Would you rather put your faith in a statistic?!” Mark raised his voice. “I lost my mother to this war! My friends! My job! My eye, and almost my life! I’ve put mine on the line out there! You don’t know what it’s like out there! Was my mother’s death just a probability too? Was she just a statistic to you?! That as long as the numbers are good, no matter how many are lost, we are ‘winning’?!”
“Mark—!”
“No, Liv! He needs to know what’s really going on out there!” he spat. “Great Grandfather, with all due respect, but you don’t have a damn clue what it’s like to be in the field. You’re a man of faith, aren’t you? Take a risk. Everyone else has.”
Aurelius stood there, dumbfounded. He bit the inside of his cheeks and clenched his fists. “For your insolence, I would have had you flogged and stripped of your rank,” he glared at the young colonel. However, his features slowly softened, letting out a soft sigh. “But I have never seen such conviction. Mighty is your faith.”
The Great Grandfather moved over to the panels and reached into his robe, pulling out from around his neck a key with the symbol of the sun. He inserted it into the machine and turned. A beep sounded, right before Aurelius pulled a lever. In an instant, the fluid inside the glass chamber began to drain out into the tubes under it. Slowly, the chamber emptied and all that was left was the nude form of the goddess sitting in the glass.
“Did it work?” Louis asked, stepping forward and looking at the woman.
Aurelius stayed silent, his hands shaking in anticipation. Mark moved toward the glass chamber, when suddenly, the glass opened up like a door, releasing a fragrant mist. They stood there, watching for a whole minute. Nothing. At first nothing. The Great Grandfather looked like he was about to break down. His knees shook as he covered his mouth, thinking that he was responsible for the death of Helena.
That was when… a soft sound was heard. Movement. Olivia immediately went over to Mark and stood in front of him. Ready to protect him should anything happen. Slowly, the goddess moved more, her arms inched to the side.
Then, her eyes opened.

*** Comments mentioning anything related to treatment, trying to conceive, or family building measures in this thread will be removed via our OFF TOPIC rule. Consider if you were taking a break from treatment because you were exhausted and sad - treatment (yes anything related to it) goes in treatment **\*
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I'm UK based so this is from an NHS perspective
I thought I'd write a post to hopefully help a few people out if they are feeling nervous about surgery. This is my personal experience and everyone's will be different obviously, but I thought I'd share.
Had my surgery yesterday (May 16th) but I hadn't slept a wink. I was utterly terrified of what lay ahead. Aside from the one gallbladder attack on the 22nd of April I had no further issues. I lay there thinking if I was doing the right thing, going to butcher myself from a one off occurrence. I got up and showered at 6am, packed my Grogu dressing gown and my slippers and slowly made my way downstairs. My husband sat on the sofa, telling me he'd got up early to see me off. He was feeling guilty because he would be unable to come with me because he gets very anxious travelling to far. I shared my fears with him and he just sat with me and cuddled me and told me I was doing the right thing because he'd been misdiagnosed when he was younger and went 18 months suffering from debilitating Gallbladder attacks and he didn't want to see the same thing to potentially happen to me.
I drank my last glass of water at 6:30am before crying as I ordered the Uber at 7:00am to take me on the 11 mile journey out to the hospital in a town I'd never been to before. Every second resisting the very real urge to tell the driver to turn round. I got to the hospital at 7:32 and obviously went into the wrong building at first. But one of the very helpful ladies on the desk pointed me in the right direction and even offered to walk me part way so I could find it. I said I would be OK. I made my way round to the Day Surgery building only to find a queue at the reception desk.. Giving me even more opportunity to run screaming out of the door. But I thought of my husband's words and I stayed there. Gave my name and plonked myself in the reception area, trying to distract myself with my phone.
Around 20 minutes later I was called through to have my first discussion with a member of the surgical team. The nurse taking me through could see I was obviously getting upset, so she gave me quick hug and reassured me I'd be OK. I sat with the surgical team member who went over everything they were planning. He had my notes and could see that aside from the Gallstones I was otherwise healthy. He explained that because my case was relatively simple it would be an almost 100% chance it would stay as Keyhole Surgery and he told me how the operation would be performed and went over the consent to surgery form with me. Strangely this made me feel a bit more at ease because he was not only being kind and understanding of my distress, he was professional and informative.
After that discussion I went out to the waiting room again to pass time before being taken to the ward. Again about a 15 minute wait and I was brought through to the ward. A second nurse came to do my heart rate and blood pressure. At this point I was fighting back tears which the nurse could see, so she let me talk out my feelings and offered me kind words to calm me down.
At this point the Anaesthesiologist came into my little curtained off area to tell me what he would be doing as part of the team. The mild sedative he'd administer to get my brain ready for the anesthetic and that I would be the second surgery of the day so I'd be in around midday. He confirmed my consent forms and double checked I was who I was. He also gave me some kind words and left. The nurse took details of who she would call after the operation to let them know I was OK (my husband and the friend who was picking me up) I settled down on the bed while the nurse pottered around with my paperwork. Then the shock happened. The first nurse I'd seen that day poked her head through the curtain to inform the blood pressure nurse that my surgery had been brought forward because the person who was meant to be first hadn't turned up yet. New panic activated. I wasn't expecting it so soon. So I sat there mildly horrified that I wouldn't have time to process. I was told I'd be going to get changed soon. After a short wait, I was then informed the first patient had turned up... So I was bumped back to second I thought. OK I can relax a little... No such luck. The surgical team had already begun prepping for MY operation. So they would still be doing mine first instead. I didn't have time to panic. I was brought through to the changing rooms, given some very sexy paper knickers and compression socks and a robe. I popped on my Grogu dressing gown over the top and my slippers. I didn't even go back tu the ward. The nurses took my clothes I'd come in with and boxed them up safely. I was guided through to the surgical prep room. Where I was greeted by the two members of the team I'd already met and the additional team member. They talked me through everything again and confirmed my consent for the surgery to go ahead and one kept me occupied by talking about my nerdy tattoos as he popped a brain wave monitor on my head. I was asked for my weight and height so the correct dosage of anesthetic could be given. A cannula was put in my hand and the Anaesthesiologist administered the first dose of the sedative which gave me a mild light feeling. They continued to talk to me about my tattoos which were from some of favourite TV series and even had a laugh about my Grogu dressing gown. Then I was given the main dose of anesthetic. No counting down from 10, just continuing to talk about the TV series... And then I woke up in the recovery room. Sore, but not in agony. Feeling very groggy, but I came round fairly quickly. Slurring my words a bit and trying to pay attention to the nurse who was rousing me. As I became more aware she told me my operation had been absolutely textbook with zero issues. Nice clean incisions glued back together. She gave me a mild but hospital standard painkiller
After a few minutes I was wheeled through to the main ward again where I was met by the nurse who had taken my blood pressure. Smiling she sat me up slightly in bed and gave me some water and got me some biscuits to nibble on. She told me that I'd be there for 3 hours after the operation which was standard. They wanted to check I was as comfortable as I was going to be. And that I had been to the toilet at least once during that time. I had a very dry throat from the breathing tube so I was sipping a lot of water. I had a bit of help walking to the bathroom but they said it was positive that I had been. Of course silly me had forgotten to bring a book to read during my wait, but the nurse said as long as I was discreet while she went and made the phone calls I could listen to something on my phone... So me being me, I picked a true crime YouTuber (Rotten Mango). She came back and checked my blood pressure every half an hour, which she was happy with. I just sat and passed the time. Getting more lucid with every passing minute. I was told I could carefully get dressed. My friend was delayed in traffic so I stayed an hour longer than I had to (4 hours in total) and the nurses I'd seen that day both have be a gentle hug and said it had been a pleasure to be with me that day. I slowly made my way to my friend's car and came home to a waiting husband. We took a short walk to the shop (my choice) to get me some light food to eat of crackers and a couple of fruit scones. I didn't immediately feel a need to rest so I gently sat at my computer and watched a few videos. Then at 6:00 I took one of the industrial strength codeine the hospital had given me and settled down to sleep for a couple of hours. I did sleep OK last night after going back to sleep again at about 1am and after taking 2 of the codeine which brings us to now. I've manged to eat, I'm still tender, but on the whole I'm OK less than 24 hours after surgery.
Sorry this was a long one and if you've made it to the end. Thank you for your time

I keep thinking about my experience in academia (Ph.D. and postdoc), an unsuccessful attempt to escape and how I dug my grave with my own hands.
I keep reading about recent developments in US biotech industry and its has been absolutely disheartening. The job market right now is awful and it has not bottomed out.
I cannot help, but thinking how did I arrive at this point and what could I have done to save myself???
I am speaking here about my experience in life sciences. I hope that the situation is better in other areas, but life sciences are absolutely over-saturated, over-flowing and under-paid area of STEM, probably along with chemistry.
Long time ago, after 1 year into the Ph.D. program, I got a weird feeling. I quietly approached people in the lab, with whom I was on friendly terms and they confirmed my worst expectations. Essentially, the unspoken (and un-communicated!!!) assumption was that after a year or so a Ph.D. student should show to the PI outstanding results, worthy of publication in "Nature", "Science" etc. Obviously, with no help, no guidance, no support. The PI did not want to tarnish his academic CV with publications in low- or medium-impact journals! So, if you could not show a potential for a publication in "Nature" (or similar journal), the PI would simply lose interest in you and "dis-own" you. This meant no support of any kind, no interest in your defense and no recommendation letter. Nothing! I saw this done to several people in our group. The PI tried (in some cases very successfully) to sabotage careers of his subordinates.
Remainder of my Ph.D. was absolute mental torture. I knew that without support of the PI I had not a single chance for academic career. Basically, academic career was dead for me. Every day I experienced a mental torture of senseless work. I knew that it was absolutely pointless to continue my Ph.D. The project was going nowhere. The PI lost all interest. By then I knew very well, how competitive and cutthroat was academia. I could have just sat in my office, collected stipend for another year or more and walked away. There was no point of doing anything. It was like digging a hole in the ground and then filling it back with same soil. Again and again and again! Every day! Coming to the lab, doing senseless work, knowing that it was all meaningless and continue doing it over and over -- just to have something to put in the thesis. This experience crippled me to the point that now I absolutely cannot stand any meaningless work.
I defended my Ph.D. and somehow got a postdoc in a shitty lab. 3 years of my postdoctoral experience could be described by one word: abuse! Constant lies, gaslighting, micromanagement, disrespect, threats, being underpaid, being overworked. I clearly remember that I cried because I did not have a courage to commit suicide.
I tried to seek on-line, on various forums advice on how to get out of this situation. To put it short, I was "trolled" and bullied by academics to the point of mental meltdown.
Recently I tried to find a career coach / mentor. Needless to say, my search was unsuccessful. There is no help out there! Sure, there are people that gladly will take your money in return to sugarcoated fluff. But that's it!
I have been thinking a lot about career coaching / career guidance. You know what? Absence of good advice / a lot of bad advice was, probably, a final "death blow" to my aspirations.
First of all, I did not understand how hiring works and no one explained it to me. It is not that there is a great mystery about hiring, it is that no one ever explained it to me. Secondly, I falsely believed that I could capitalize on Ph.D. itself and a set of so called "transferable skills". Lie! No one hires based on transferrable skills! Transferable skills == soft skills. If you have only transferable skills = soft skills, you can get a job of an admin assistant. Because you need good communication skills and critical thinking when scheduling meetings and taking minutes. But! If you have transferable skills and a Ph.D., you will NOT get a job of admin assistant, because you are "over-qualified".
I always knew that my Ph.D. in molecular biology was completely worthless! Yes, I had to learn every single method and protocol myself, without any help! Yes, I worked 60 hr and 80 hr weeks. But you cannot put this on resume and hope that HR will value it. Even today, years after I completed my Ph.D., I can explain every single methods and every single experiment that I did. Because I did everything on my own, without any help!!! I should be proud of myself, but I actually hate myself -- because I cannot sell it. Because market values "rock-stars", because market values what's trendy and what's in demand!
I was led astray by all this trash advice about "customizing your resume" and "highlighting transferrable skills". I have missed an opportunity of a lifetime!!! 5 or 6 years ago people, who attended coding bootcamps, could actually get a job as a programmer!!! Yes, not too long ago employers were actually scooping people, who completed coding bootcamps!!! That would have been my chance of getting the hell out of academia. I had a gut feeling that my Ph.D. was a complete waste of time, I suspected that I need to write-off Ph.D. as a loss and re-educate myself completely to have a chance! And I have missed an opportunity of a lifetime to learn how to code, to get into bootcamp, to get an entry-level coding job and move on from there. Now there are ongoing layoffs in tech and job market is flooded with junior coders. The gates are closed.
Instead, I wasted my time tinkering / customizing my resume and thinking how to sell "transferrable skills". Wrong, wrong, wrong! I do not think that anything like it will ever come again. When you can teach yourself, when you can get through the bootcamp and get into a field with good pay and career growth!!!
To all people out there: I cannot stress enough, watch out for bad advice!!! Look for a good advice -- its worth it's weight in gold!

Welcome to our weekly questions thread! Feel free to ask about your specific builds, weapons, artifacts, team comps, or other Keqing-related questions here.
Also be sure to check out our massive library of resources below!
Useful Links for Keqing:
Keqing Mains Discord: Our main hub for all things Keqing. The amazing Artifact Rater Bot, as well as tons of resources for Keqing (and other characters!) can be accessed by using the !help command in the #command-spam channel. There's commands covering terminology, mechanics, artifacts sets, and a ton more.
We also have dedicated channels for teambuilding, clearing the abyss, and community events!
The Comprehensive Guide to Keqing: Our frequently updated, incredibly thorough guide to all things Keqing. From basic builds and starter artifacts to endgame optimization and teambuilding, it's all there. Check back frequently, as new character synergies are added by the community. Most recent: v1.5
Useful Links for Genshin in general:
The Keqing Mains Theorycrafting Library: While we are fundamentally a Keqing focused group, our theorycrafting encompasses so much more. This 80 page+ document is the combined work of dozens of theorycrafters from across multiple servers who have put in tons of hours testing theories and crunching numbers.
KQM Youtube: A place for Quick Guides and Before You Wish videos
HoyoLab Interactive Map (Account Linked)
The Genshin Impact MEGADOC: This covers nearly every in-game system you can think of. From adventuring tips and overworld puzzles, to the exact cost (and materials!) for leveling characters, talents, and artifacts. Even if you consider yourself a veteran this is a great resource to double check things.
CharacteWeapon Planner: This tool lets you plan out what you want to level, how many materials you'll need, and what days the specific domains required will be available.
Genshin Optimizer: A very slick webapp to help you calculate how good your substat rolls are, calculate damage, and experiment with build ideas before using your in-game resources.

Window roller blinds not only serve a practical purpose in controlling light and privacy but also contribute significantly to the aesthetic appeal of your home decor. Selecting the right colors and patterns for your roller blinds can enhance the overall ambiance of your living space and complement your interior design scheme.
In this blog, we'll explore some tips and considerations to help you choose the perfect colors and patterns for your window blinds.

Understanding the Impact of Colors and Patterns

Colors and patterns play a crucial role in interior design, influencing the mood, atmosphere, and visual perception of a space. When selecting roller blinds for your windows, it's essential to consider how different colors and patterns will interact with your existing decor and contribute to the overall look and feel of the room.

1. Consider Your Decor Style

Start by assessing your existing decor style and color palette. Are you aiming for a modern, minimalist look, or do you prefer a more traditional, cozy ambiance? Choose roller blinds that complement the overall aesthetic of your space, whether it's sleek and contemporary or warm and rustic.

2. Create Contrast or Cohesion

Decide whether you want your roller blinds to stand out as a focal point or blend seamlessly with the rest of your decor. Opting for contrasting colors or bold patterns can add visual interest and drama to your windows, while selecting shades that match or complement your wall color and furnishings creates a cohesive and harmonious look.

3. Consider the Room's Functionality

Think about the specific function of each room when choosing colors and patterns for your roller blinds. For instance, in a bedroom where relaxation is key, soothing and calming colors such as soft blues or greens may be preferable. In a home office or study area, vibrant colors or stimulating patterns can energize the space and enhance productivity.

4. Evaluate Natural Light Levels

Take into account the amount of natural light that enters the room through your windows. In rooms with ample sunlight, lighter-colored roller blinds can help maximize brightness and create an airy, spacious feel. In contrast, in rooms with less natural light, darker shades or patterns with depth and texture can add warmth and coziness.

5. Choose Timeless or Trendy Designs

Consider whether you prefer roller blinds with timeless, classic designs that will withstand changing trends or if you're open to experimenting with more trendy or seasonal patterns. Neutral colors such as whites, creams, and grays are versatile and timeless, while bold patterns or vibrant hues can add a contemporary touch.

6. Account for Window Size and Placement

The size and placement of your windows will also influence your choice of colors and patterns for roller blinds. Large windows can accommodate bolder designs without overwhelming the space, while smaller windows may benefit from lighter colors or subtle patterns to avoid feeling crowded.

7. Test Samples Before Committing

Before making a final decision, it's a good idea to order samples or swatches of different colors and patterns to see how they look in your space. This allows you to visualize how the roller blinds will interact with your existing decor and make any necessary adjustments before committing to a purchase.

Conclusion

Choosing the right colors and patterns for your window roller blinds is an important decision that can significantly impact the overall look and feel of your home. By considering factors such as decor style, room functionality, natural light levels, and window size, you can select roller blinds that complement your interior design scheme and enhance the ambiance of every room. Whether you opt for timeless neutrals, bold patterns, or subtle textures, your roller blinds can be both functional and stylish additions to your home decor.

Hi all UPN/Pre-Nursing people! I just wanted to write out some tips on how to look best on your NursingCAS applications for your goal starting semester. This is a pretty detailed guide with some good calculations to determine other scores beyond just the basic impaction score. This also provides some resources for your TEAs that I found most useful. This guide is directed towards those applying to SJSU especially those on the Pre-Nursing Track at SJSU.
Don't flop your first semester: It is true that the first semester of college has a learning curve, but it is still important that you stay focused and maintain a high GPA. For many this is the easiest semester, but don't be fooled English 1A or Chem30A/BIOL65 will bite you in the butt last second.
Aim for a high GPA not solely TEAs: As much as people brag about their TEAs scores a GPA at SJSU is much more important! If you have a 4.0 GPA and score lower on your TEAs you will have a way better shot at getting in. Take this for example: a person got 2 A- in 3 unit courses out of the big 8. This makes their cumulative GPA a 3.94 GPA. If this person applied to nursing against a person with a 4.0 this score is then doubled, for impaction. 8 compared to a 7.88. With 2 A-'s you now need to do better than 3.5% of whatever teas score the kid with a 4.0 got. Also keep in mind that SJSU already requires a 84% to even apply leaving a 16% playing field. If you get a 4.0 and a 84% a person with 3.94 needs to get a 87.5% on their teas!

BE ADVISED EVERY SINGLE POINT COUNTS!
Realistically you are okay and should not flip out with a 3.94 GPA to this is just being used as a clear example. Just remember that if you keep a high GPA that you are saving yourself a mental breakdown before taking a TEAs.
- Be sure to get the extra points as well if you know you don't have perfect stats. This will greatly improve your odds at getting in, especially for Fall applicants.

Don't rely on comparing stats to AllNurses: This is a hot take, but hear me out; 60 kids get into SJSUs nursing program and maybe 10 people post their stats on AllNurses. I am throwing no shade saying this, but these are the people that are for the most part going to get in. Some claim to have 4.0 GPAs, 98 TEAs, 2000hrs of Healthcare experience, and co-reqs done too. Obviously they are going to get in but, that spot is now taken from a person bringing it down to 59 others. It is nice to have a comparison to, but unless more people post on it people are going to have skewed to the right opinions. There are tons of applicants and there are different groups of people apply. The overachievers, the average, and the prayers. Most people are average and do not have the crazy stats these people have. There are some people that do post stats that are more relevant to compare to such as a 4.0 with an 88% or something like that. Again this is highballing and it is important to really dig deep into who got accepted when using this platform. A 92% TEAs is what even the pre-nursing advisors and these guys want you to drop the major. Do realize that if you have a lower GPA you will need a higher TEAs. Doing this calculation [20(4-(current GPA))*3] will tell you what you need in comparison to a 4.0 GPA.

Here is an example with a 3.8GPA [20(4-3.8)*3] = [20(.2)*3] = 4*3 = 12, this means (excluding extra points), you need to score at least a 96% if a kid with a 4.0 got a 84% on their TEAs.
- For understanding the 20 comes from the calculation 10 (to make the solution a whole number) multiplied by 2 (because the GPA is multiplied by two in the impaction score calculation) and the 3 comes from the fact each .1 of a GPA equates to 3% of a persons TEAs score (1/30 = .033333*3 = .1). The 20 contains the multiplication factor of 2 already so we don't need to multiply 3 by 2 as well.

The minimum GPA and TEAs: Yes it is true that if you do have a pretty poor GPA (3.3-3.4) and don't have the TEAs to make up for it then it is probably unlikely you will get into the program. But, at this campus the stats are never posted for who gets in and during which semester. Recently SJSU raised their TEAs from a 78% all the way up to a required 84% which to me is crazy high! I assume this is to cut down the amount of applicants and in turn this makes the TEAs pretty irrelevant to the total stats. With only a 16% max gap, now any person who is able to apply to nursing must have at least that score making the GPA that much more important. If you have a 3.9 GPA and a 94 on your teas, a person with a 3.8 will still get outcompeted regardless of TEAs score. This is most likely why the GPA was lowered for nursing and is now a 3.3 instead the previous 3.4 because some kids may have done well in the GPA aspect and messed up their TEAs. Aim for a higher GPA but do realize that a lot of kids do manage to get really good GPAs that correlate with good TEAs scores. Get a good GPA, 3.8 and above is pretty good, a 3.9+ is quality work for both Fall and Spring semesters, and make sure to aim for higher than the TEAs threshold.Nursing advisors deter people from applying but, it is accurate that as of Fall 2024 that you have to be at the top to get in. Keep in mind that there are 500+ applicants and only 60 get in that is only 12% of the applicant pool. You need to aim for the 80th percentile at the minimum to be on the waitlist first round (beating 400 other applicants)
TEAs Test: Now I know I have talked a lot about the importance of the GPA, but regardless you still do want to do well on the TEAs. Your TEAs score, like I talked about above, is directly related to your GPA. If you got a lower GPA you need a high TEAs and if you got a high GPA you can slack on the TEAs score. If you have a low GPA this will make or break the odds of getting in and every 3% on the test you get a .1 point increase. Going against what I think everyone I have ever talked to has said, for me personally I say take the TEAs online, if that is still an option. Not only can you take the test literally whatever day you want, you can also take it at whatever time of that day you selected as long as a proctor is available. Some argue that the they test better when in a school environment and this is valid, but I also test better in those environments and I bombed my first TEAs due to nerves. When I took it online the only stressors were if the test were to crash or the proctor flagged my exam for no reason, but neither of those happened not even close. The low stress of being at home and taking the test when I wanted to allowed for much better results and comfort. You get to finish the sections when you want. If you think you are done and don't want to triple check your answers to save the brainpower for later sections you get that option. Take the test where you think you will test best though and take these words with a grain of salt. I just wanted to say that the TEAs online is the same content as it is in person and at the leisure of your home. Not many people talk about how the TEAs online is positive for some people!
Get the extra points if you can: The extra points are pretty easy to get at SJSU especially as commuters. Of course nobody can make themselves a first generation student, but if you are that is easy free points and congrats. No one has a clue what SJSU gives as a "bump" to an applicants score and it is honestly only there because everyones stats are so similar so they need more tie breakers. Granted, you will most likely want to win the tie breaker and in order to do you have to at least have all the co-reqs done. I want to be straight up and say I think the vast majority of students have these all completed prior to applying for the Fall because you have an extra semester (maybe not Spring idk). So make sure to have these all completed so you are not left behind and waste an attempt in the SJSU applicant pool(unless you have great stats t or have healthcare hrs instead then just apply). You only have 2 attempts at applying to nursing at SJSU so make them count. If you can, there is also the healthcare hours bump. This is a bump isn't achieved by all applicants and could help if you have lower stats. Keep in mind that this usually involves volunteer work once a week for 4hr shifts so you will be wherever you choose to stay for about 6 months (decent time commitment with school). I've heard that the healthcare hrs are pretty lenient about what exactly you did as long as it is part of the healthcare field and you can get it signed. Of course if you already have had a health job within 3 years this is a free point bump too!
Spring semester isn't as easy to get into as it once was: SJSU changed this policy. In 2023 only transfer students can apply for SJSU fall semester cohorts, no longer accepting post-bacs. Whereas spring semester cohorts will accept post-bacs and no longer accept transfer students. This means that Fall semester likely is getting more difficult to get into as all transfer students have to apply for the same cohort. It is believed that the School accepts a bunch of SJSU students and after the initial acceptance everyone on the waitlist is combined meaning more transfers will get in from the waitlist process as they may not have made the original cut with the SJSU students bump. This would also mean there are less opportunities for SJSU students to get in during the spring cohort as they battle against stronger transfer candidates. As for transfers, in Fall there are more opportunities to get in as more are accepted initally and through the waitlist process. For post-bacs the same process is in place but, since the top UPN students (because they were following the exact track) were picked out for Fall stats could be a little lower. Regardless, Fall semester cohorts I would assume have slightly higher impaction scores from all areas that are applying as most students took their time throughout all the courses and UPN program students are all expected to apply for Fall semester. Take this all with a grain of salt since again there are no exact numbers of all that get accepted as transfers and post-bacs and if these numbers have increased because of this change.
Remember your overall GPA prior to applying does matter: Your overall GPA does matter when applying for nursing at SJSU! When it comes to tiebreakers if everything is the same - the gpa, the teas, and the extra points - the school will look at overall GPAs to decide who gets in. So make sure to get good grades in that moral issues class freshman year because it will come back to haunt you if you don't get in because of it.
Don't Break down!: It is easy to read all of this and think that you are screwed, but it is important to remember that many people are in the exact same situation. We are not all getting 4.0s and 92s on our teas like our advisors tell us we need. Expect A-'s and a B+. No stats are published and nobody knows for sure what you need but the advisors say people get "mostly a's". Aim for the highest impaction score that you can get and don't slack on it because literally that is what is determining if you get in or not.

As a SJSU student you have 2 opportunities to get in, once in Fall (a little more difficult as most SJSU students are on track so there are more of you) and Spring (a little easier just because there are less Pre-Nursing majors applying). So if you don't get in for the Fall and your stats are good, you have a great chance in the Spring
- PS if you do get declined for the Fall get all the extra bumps you can and if you still have one more TEAs opportunity, TAKE IT AGAIN! If you get waitlisted for Fall there is a really good chance you will get in for Spring as the people you were originally going against are gone.

Waitlist: If you get waitlisted it really is not the end of the world. Most schools send out acceptance letters in two waves one at the beginning/mid of April and at the end of April where people accept of decline their schools. SJSU keeps a long waitlist because a lot of people drop the school for more local schools/bigger name schools so never lose hope. I've heard stories of people being #70 on the waitlist and still getting in. (FYI you have to contact someone to check if you were waitlisted you will not get any notice of what is taking so long for your acceptance. only when you are on the waitlist can you contact staff about your placement. Staff will not tell you where you are if you are not emailed by Nursing that you are on the waitlist.)

If you are immediately declined from the school, that means that currently they were unable to offer you a seat. However, this does not mean that you are out yet. The school has an original waitlist and if that gets ran though they create another backup waitlist in case more students drop in the summer. This contains around 12 more students and you could be apart of this group.

EXTRA Info:

Nursing Apps open January 17th for Fall and August 17th for Spring and they both close on the 15th the following month
If you are a current SJSU student you do not need to apply for SJSU again prior to applying
However many units a course is will impact your GPA differently (more units means more of your GPA)
You get about One Week to accept SJSU. SJSU is one of the latest schools to send out acceptance letters so be prepared to wait. 8 Weeks after the deadline is when acceptance letter should begin to roll out.
Acceptances are sent out around April 10th for Fall and November 10th for Spring.

TEAs Studying TIPs:

DM me if you want a google doc with TEAs information (it won't let me put it here) it provides, in my opinion, the best ways to study for the TEAs. For me personally I only received a 93.3 but, if I had realized how vital one of the sources before I took the test the next day, I would have performed even better! Please give this a look. If you dont want you I'll put the order of importance here without links
- 1 Quizlets, #2 the ATI website, #3 Miscellaneous Prep Tests (I provide links in the doc), #4 PocketPrep

Application Assistance:

Submit all documents separate from each other
The application pool is Not Rolling meaning you can apply at any time before the deadline and still not be penalized
Whatever work experience you have will not change the size of the score bump i.e a hospital volunteer will get the same size bump as a person with a CNA.
- You also do not need any letters of recommendation and don't need to fill out any extra information on the NursingCAS website for SJSU specifically. They will not read any paragraphs that are not relevant to you getting accepted.
AP credit does not affect the GPA it is solely for credit. If the AP course is not listed on your transcript then you must submit a form proving you passed the exam in the "other" section.
- Make sure that all your documents that need to be there are there and they will be seen and accounted for. Regardless of where you put the documents the will show up on the application.
Download you application prior to submitting your application (they will let you do this after you finished all the documents uploading and are preparing to finalize). Look over everything to ensure it's all correct.

I know this whole process is stressful and pretty terrifying, but everyone has a chance. This is just what I have learned throughout the whole process and hopefully it will help others that have 0 clue what is going on. Although some of this may make it seem like you need to have crazy high stats I am just trying to say do your best. If SJSU ever posts the stats for accepted applicants this would a be a different story. This is a CSU so unfortunately this application does follow the "a single number means everything" this means your impaction score is who you are; not necessarily how well rounded you may be. Good luck to all future nursing applicants and congrats.
"Congratulations! This email is to inform you of your provisional acceptance to The Valley Foundation School of Nursing at San José State University" Fall
You can DM if you have any questions.

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I'm planning out a Fantasy RPG in the Cypher system. The game has an emphasis on traditional dungeon-crawling, monster-slaying and treasure-hunting, as familiar tropes for a party of players who are used to D&D.
Firstly I'm astonished at the lack of guidance which the Cypher system provides for Artifact rules. It's remarkable that there aren't "recommended power at level" guidelines i.e. "Level 1 Artifact should not do x"; "Level 6 Artifact could do y + z". Anyway, we are where we are.
Given that I'm trying to bring a D&D party into Cypher, I want artifacts which are going to click with them mechanically (basic magic item provides a modifier to attack and damage, with more exotic items providing different or additional boons). So here are some questions I've got, that I'm hoping this community can help me with.
1) Can / should Artifacts follow the D&D model of a static bonus to attack rolls or damage? Cypher challenge seems to be exclusively modified in 3 point steps. Does this mean that a "+1 Longsword" in D&D equates to a "+1 Longsword" or a "Longsword which Eases attack rolls by 1" in the Cypher system? If the latter, and we're talking in terms of Assets and Easing exclusively, then I'm severely limiting the scope of Artifacts to "boost" as far as attack success rates - there's no way there should be a weapon which Eases attack rolls by 3 steps, surely? What would be the downside of the Artifact granting a static bonus to your attack roll, based on the Artifact level? (i.e. level 1 provides a +1; level 6 provides a +6).
2) Can / should Cypher artifacts deal different damage types? We're all familiar I'm sure with the magic holy mace which deals Radiant damage, or the flaming sword which deals Fire damage. I'm really uncertain what the impact of changing a weapon's damage does, in the game. Is this something I should stay away from, or should I embrace it?
3) Can / should Artifacts grant Focus Abilities? Let's take the flaming longsword example above. While as a level 1 artifact it might deal fire damage, can a higher level version of the artifact (or a different weapon entirely) grant the Hurl Flame ability from the Bears a Halo of Fire Focus?
4) Can / should Artifacts deal status effects? The Major and Minor effect on an attack roll is left fairly open for player and GM to decide what makes sense in the fiction, but can an Artifact define what happens on a Minor or Major effect? For example, the Vorpal Sword would would cut off the head of a target on a Major Effect (insta-kill most things) or immediately move a PC down the damage track (if wielded by a villain). Or a Sword of Lightning inflicting a daze effect on a Minor, or a stun effect on a Major - you get my drift.
I don't want to reinvent the wheel here. I've got hundreds of magic items which my players are going to recognise from D&D and will be happy with, which I'm willing to convert into Cypher. I just don't know how straightforward that conversion is going to be. Hopefully you'll all give me some pointers and this will be a much easier exercise!
TIA

Hey everyone,
I need some advice on choosing between two university programs: the Bachelor of Business Administration at ESADE Business School and the BA in History, Politics and Economics at University College London.
ESADE Business School BBA:
Pros:

Price: Generally more affordable.
Weather: Sunny Barcelona.
Difficulty: Rigorous but manageable.

Cons:

Languages: Need to learn an additional language (Spanish or German).
Prestige: Not as globally recognized as UCL.
Interest and Career Prospects: Concerned about being limited to business roles.

UCL BA in History, Politics, and Economics:
Pros:

Prestige: Globally recognised and highly regarded.
Language: Entirely in English and possibly able to bank on my Eastern European language fluency tho not entirely sure.
Interest: Aligns more with my interests in multiple disciplines.

Cons:

Department Concerns: Worried about the focus on Eastern Europe (SSEES) potentially limiting future opportunities.
Location: London is expensive and has less favorable weather.

Has anyone here attended either of these programs? What were your experiences like? How did it impact your career prospects? Any insights would be greatly appreciated!
Interested in IB AM and possibly MBB entry roles. Look forward to which one will have the best prospects.
P.S : Im fluent in English and French (and born and raised in Romania so also native speaker and Easter Europe background tho politics not aimed until possibly mid-late career. And also tho price is taken into account its not a determine to based my career path)
Thanks!

There are some kinds of wisdom only great suffering can bring. I remember my time in the Bardo with this in mind, for otherwise, the memory might drive me insane.
The night my heart stopped for nearly three minutes started off normally enough. I was working as a nurse in the psychiatric ward at a hospital in the state’s capital. Most of the patients there were harmless, mostly just suicide attempts or people suffering from drug psychosis or severe depression, but some were actively dangerous and certainly psychopathic in every sense of the word. The new admission was one of these- a three-hundred pound black man with a long history of smoking PCP, schizophrenia and violent, psychotic breaks from reality.
His eyes looked like flat pieces of slate as I walked in for my shift. They looked as blank and emotionless as the eyes of a doll. He sat at the table in the front room where the patients ate or played cards, alone under the bright fluorescent lights of the hospital. I walked to the station, where another psychiatric nurse named Ricardo was sitting behind the desk.
“What’s the deal with the new guy?” I asked him. Ricardo looked up, his dark Spanish face forming into a deep scowl. He ran his fingers through his jet-black hair nervously.
“He’s trouble, man,” he said in a crisp accent. “He got in a chase with the police and then punched some cops in the face. It took three guys to take him down, even after he got maced and tased. The judge sent him here on a temporary court order, since he claims he’s been getting chased by Nazis in UFOs, and that’s why he ran from the cops. He thought the cops in their uniforms were actually the SS, and the helicopters were alien spacecraft, or something. I don’t know, I didn’t listen to the whole story.”
“You have his file?” I asked. Ricardo leafed through a stack of folders with his thin fingers, snatching one out and handing it to me. I looked down, reading the information:
“Jeremiah Brown, black male, 37-years-old.
“History: Polysubstance abuse, schizophrenia, antisocial personality disorder.
“Psychiatrist’s note: This patient has scored a 36 out of 40 on the Hare Psychopathy Checklist. While I am always hesitant to label a patient as an antisocial personality, a combination of factors has made it essential for this patient.
“Patient has an extensive criminal history as well as a lengthy history of involuntary psychiatric admissions. He has been diagnosed as having antisocial traits since he was a young teenager. Patient has a long history of violence and suicide attempts. He has a history of imprisonment for manslaughter, armed robbery, grand theft and aggravated assault. Upon discharge, he refuses to take any antipsychotic medication, citing the side effects as the reason. Long-term prognosis is poor…”
I had not been sleeping well the past few weeks. I rubbed my eyes as I read through the file, feeling exhausted. I tried putting on lucid dreaming or meditation music from YouTube to help me sleep, but whenever I closed my eyes, I saw horrible things: chalk-white female faces whose lips were cut into an insane rictus grin, flicking their heads violently from side to side and gnashing their fangs at the air. I had a feeling that many years of constantly watching horror movies and serial killer documentaries was catching up with me.
As I read through the file, a student nurse came around the corner wearing a white state university outfit and a name tag that said Kaitlyn. I looked up, seeing Ricardo wink at me from where he was sitting in his chair behind the main desk.
“She’s going to follow you,” he said. Inwardly, I groaned, but I managed to force a smile.
“Oh, great!” I said. She looked like she was probably no older than nineteen or twenty. She had a pretty body, but her face looked strange. All the angles were too sharp and her nose too large. I knew the patients here wouldn’t care, though. They would hit on anything. I sensed trouble. I looked down at my watch.
“Well, I’m Jay, and you already know Ricardo, I guess. It’s good timing, because we need to give medications every day at 9 PM. And we have a new patient, so we can introduce ourselves,” I said, giving her a faint smile.
“That’s exciting!” Kaitlyn whispered. I wanted to roll my eyes. It was definitely not exciting.
I motioned her to follow me as I made my way to the medication room, which was really just a large closet off of the main day room. I had to enter my code on a keypad, and then, once inside, enter it again along with the patient’s number and date of birth. The correct drawers for the medication in each specific dose would fly open, making it extremely hard for the wrong medications or doses to be given, unless it was done intentionally.
“OK, so for this patient, we need Haldol, Ativan and…” I began saying to Kaitlyn when the yelling started. It came out faintly, rising in volume and anger within seconds. I heard Ricardo’s Spanish voice, filled with panic. Something slammed hard against a wall, once, twice, three times, and then I heard the sound of glass breaking. I jumped, spinning around, but I couldn’t see much through the small, shatter-proof glass pane on the wooden door.
“Stay here,” I commanded, seeing Kaitlyn’s eyes widen, her freckled skin looking much paler than when we had first come in. “Don’t leave until I come back and say that it’s safe.” On the speakers strung throughout the hospital, I heard the first of the warnings echo out around us.
“Doctor Strong, Doctor Strong, please report to the seventh floor,” a robotic female voice said calmly, using the code for when a patient had to be subdued by force. I pushed the door open, slamming it shut behind me so that the lock would activate and protect Kaitlyn from whatever chaos was going on.
I heard Ricardo pleading with someone at the end of the hallway that ran past the main desk. He sounded strange, as if he were trying to talk through a mouthful of blood. Huddled behind the main computer, I saw one of the CNAs frantically whispering something in the phone. She must have been the one to call the Dr. Strong order.
“You don’t have to do this, man,” Ricardo gurgled faintly. I couldn’t see what was happening, as Jeremiah’s large body was blocking my view. I could see that the thick glass window at the end of the hallway was broken, however. My heart skipped a beat as I surmised what was likely happening.
I sprinted forward as quietly as I could, but the large man heard me. His massive body turned, his flat, dead eyes scanning me with absolute coldness and calm. I saw he had a bleeding Ricardo in his hands. Ricardo’s back and head were covered in deep cuts and shards of glass. He must have used Ricardo’s body as a battering ram to break the thick glass window. Jeremiah held Ricardo suspended halfway out the window, seven floors above the concrete walkways far below.
“Stay back, or this fucker will know what it feels like to fly,” Jeremiah said in a deep, gravelly voice. He shook Ricardo for emphasis, sending his head snapping back and forth with painful cracking sounds. Drops of blood flew from his nose and a deep gash across his cheek. Pieces of shattered glass littered the carpet, shining like countless tiny stars.
I put my hands up, taking a step back. Far behind me, I heard the front door for the psychiatric ward open. Voices echoed down the hall. Knowing that reinforcements were coming, I tried to buy some time.
“Let’s talk about this,” I said, taking a step forward slowly. “You don’t want a murder charge, do you? You’ll never see the sky again.”
“I don’t give a fuck! I’m not afraid to die!” Jeremiah screamed, pushing Ricardo onto one of the shards of broken glass still attached to the windowsill. It bit deeply into the back of his neck, sending fresh streams of blood rushing out, dripping down to the pavement far below. I heard security guards and doctors running down the hallway behind me, their voices frantic and excited. Jeremiah saw them coming. With an animalistic panic in his eyes, he lifted Ricardo up. I cried out something, stepping forward, but it was already too late. In horror, I watched as he threw Ricardo out the window.
I watched Ricardo’s body soar in a graceful arc, his arms grabbing at empty air as a scream ripped its way out of his throat. Within a fraction of a second, he had disappeared from view, but his terrified shrieking floated up to us for what seemed like a very long time. His screams ended abruptly as a shattering of bones and a wet smacking sound exploded far below us.
Jeremiah turned to me, his large body moving much faster than seemed possible. In his hand, I saw a piece of broken glass, five or six inches long and as sharp as a dagger. I tried to turn and run, but he was fast and strong. He lunged forward, his arm coming up in a blur towards my neck.
The shard entered my skin with a cold, numbing pain. I felt it slice through the flesh easily, felt the blood bubbling up my throat as I tried to scream, choking. The taste of iron filled my mouth as I fell backwards. I was suffocating, I knew. I must be dying.
Something cold ran down my body, gripping my heart like freezing, skeletal hands. The world swam around me and turned black. And then I was rising into a tunnel. At first, it was dark, filled with flickering shadows, but a fiery red light appeared at the end. I followed it, no more than a screaming mass of consciousness rising up into infinity.
***
I rose up through the end of the tunnel and found myself in an empty hospital ward. It looked identical to the psychiatric ward I had just come from. It even had the same smashed, blood-streaked window at the end of the hallway. A massive puddle of blood about ten feet away marked the spot where I must have died. But the fluorescent lights overhead here were flickering, and many had gone totally dark. The shadows seemed to press in on all sides.
The doors to the patients’ rooms were all tightly shut. I felt watched, afraid to call out or make any noise. I started walking down the hallway back towards the day room where the front desk was. All the lights there were out. A thick curtain of shadows hung in the air.
“You can come out,” a male voice as smooth as glass called from the darkness. I jumped, my head flicking in random directions, but I saw nothing. The voice almost sounded like it had an English lilt to it, a slight Cockneyed accent. “I know you’re there.”
“Who’s there?” I called out, not stepping forward. “Show yourself.”
“As you wish…” the voice hissed. “But I think you’ll regret it.”
***
The darkness split apart as if a nuclear missile had exploded. I raised my hand to shield my face, but the light and heat kept pouring out all around me. It blinded me, causing a rainbow of colors and shapes to morph behind my closed eyelids. After a few seconds, it subsided. Blinking rapidly, I squinted in the direction the voice had come from.
A male figure stood there, bathed in a silhouette of light. His face looked as white and as smooth as marble. His eyes were pits of darkness that seemed to flicker and burn. Two black, rotted wings surrounded his body, all sharp angles and thin, curving bones. His body was clothed in silky, blood-red robes, and a hood covered his platinum blonde hair.
He looked somewhat similar to Leonardo DiCaprio, if he was possessed by some ancient god, and it immediately threw me off-guard. If I was dying, and this was a hallucination of my brain, why would I be hallucinating Mr. DiCaprio?
“Who are you?” I asked, taking a hesitant step back. “Where am I?”
“My name is Lucifer, the Bringer of Light and Wisdom, and you are in the Bardo,” he answered.
“Oh,” I said, my heart dropping. “Well, that’s not good. Are you here to torture me or drag to me to Hell or something? You are that Lucifer, right? The Accuser of God and the Father of All Lies?”
“So they say, but, like most things in your world, the words of the powerful and your rulers are the true lies. They call me the Accuser, but of what am I accused?” he spoke in a voice that rose like smoke. “Of bringing knowledge and wisdom to humanity by telling them to eat from the tree of knowledge, the tree that would cause them to rise above the animals?
“Indeed, at the beginning, I saw the creation. I was there at the alpha, standing by the side of God with all the angels as the universe came into being. The endless procession of light, the power of it, was something remarkable to behold. God is, indeed, the source of great power, but his consciousness is not what the believers say.
“After the creation of the universe, I saw his plan, how he ripped eternal souls from the source to imprison them. I saw how he took these divine sparks and forced them, screaming and wailing, into bodies made of meat to die over and over again. He said it was part of the plan, the great, divine plan, a plan of death and destruction, constant suffering and mindless agony. And the worst part was, he wanted to give humanity neither the knowledge of good and evil, nor the tree of life. I convinced them to eat the fruit so they could open their eyes to their nakedness, to their basic animal existence, so they could rise up out of it forever.
“Like Prometheus, I brought down the fire, and yet they call me the Accuser? God was insane long before he formed the universe. These holy men, they live and die in fanatical adoration to a divine being who is, in fact, totally indifferent to them.
“His consciousness twists and distorts, eating itself for all eternity. God feeds off the pain of others, for if his mind is burning, then all others should burn as well. When these holy men die, God will send their souls here to the Bardo, to suffer every evil they have ever done. The wisdom I brought those who called upon me freed them from this prison, and in exchange, the holy men burned them alive. I offered the wisdom that opens your eyes, but it has been forgotten and cursed.”
Lucifer’s body began to dissolve, drifting up into the air like ashes. All around me, a low, powerful current blew, a tornado that spiraled high up into the clouds. Like some sort of Cheshire Cat, his smooth voice continued to echo all around me, even as the form of Lucifer disappeared.
“And yet, you have not the wisdom. For that, like all the others who enter the Bardo, you must suffer, everything you’ve done. Every small hurt and agony inflicted on others comes back a thousand-fold in this place, but don’t be afraid.”
“How could I not be afraid?!” I screamed into the ward, but I found myself alone, the question hanging unanswered in the air.
***
The lights continued to flicker all down the hallway. Feeling strange and dissociated, I stumbled over to one of the windows. As I gazed out, I beheld a strange and alien world.
The sky was flat and gray. It stayed in constant motion, swirling and spiraling, like clouds of roiling smoke. There was no Sun or Moon, no stars, only the strange, shifting whorls of clouds. The streets were filled with burned-out husks of cars and mummified bodies hung from streetlamps. Other signs of carnage and bloodshed covered the apocalyptic streets. I saw what looked like shadows in the shape of people slinking through over the sidewalks, past rotting dogs and streaks of clotted blood. They had no features on their blank, dark bodies. They seemed to skitter and jerk forwards in eerie, twisting motions.
Horrified, I turned away, realizing I was no longer alone in the day room. In the day room, there were dozens of tables set up inside a rectangular perimeter that was walled in by cosmetic walls only four feet high. It was where the patients sat and played games or ate.
Under the flickering lights, I now saw each of the chairs filled with faceless mannequins. Many were dressed in Victorian suits and tophats. The women had frilly dresses of pink and blue that might have been fashionable in the 1800s.
As the lights strobed on and off overhead, I realized with an increasing sense of disquiet that the mannequins were moving each time it went dark. When I had first seen them, they were mostly posed to look like they were staring across the tables at each other, even though they had no eyes, just smooth, flesh-colored plastic. Now all of them were looking directly at me. Some were pointing or raising their hands in my direction. At the tips of their fingers, I saw the glittering of steel. The lights continued to flicker, and the mannequins rose from their chairs in the short periods of darkness, moving towards me in synchronized, strobing motions.
Frantically, I ran down the hallway back towards the broken window. In each of the rooms, I caught glimpses of something from a nightmare peeking out. I hadn’t been sleeping well lately, and when I had closed my eyes, I often saw ancient hags with chalk-white skin and yellowed, broken teeth whose jaws unhinged, their faces jerking in stuttering, dissonant ways that reminded me of the mannequins. Now, on both sides of me, I saw these same figures. They moved continuously out of the rooms, drawing closer with every breath.
I looked back, seeing the mannequins only a few steps behind me. I continued sprinting towards the broken window where the hallway ended in a wall. I didn’t know what would happen when I reached it. At that moment, there was no rational thought. I felt like a deer being chased down by a pack of wolves, feeling waves of blind panic and mortal terror rushing through my body.
But as I reached the end of the hallway, the end of my rope as it were, a blast of noise started, seeming to come from the walls of the building and the sky itself. It sounded like a siren, a low, drawn-out drone of a demonic whale call, rising and falling in crashing crescendos. The mannequins froze in place once again. The strange, witch-like creatures slunk back into the dark rooms.
I looked outside the broken window, seeing clouds of black smoke rising off in the distance. The flickering of massive infernos scorched the land, drawing nearer by the second. The siren sound faded slowly, like the dying echoes of a gong.
I was surrounded by dozens of mannequins. Their sharp hands were inches away from my face and neck. I saw metal glittering all around me and realized they had the sharp points of nails protruding from the ends of their fingers. I was afraid to move, but I heard a familiar voice from down the hallway. It was the confident voice of Lucifer.
“The siren means much worse nightmares than these are coming in the Bardo,” he said, his glossy, black eyes flashing with intelligence. He walked slowly towards me, his face grim and pale. “Hell itself is coming over the land. This building is no more than a construction of your dying mind, but the world outside is real.”
“How can Hell come and go?” I asked, confused. “Isn’t Hell a place?”
“Hell is a monster, a beast with many mouths and many eyes,” Lucifer responded. “It eats constantly, but its hunger never ends. Look, the first of the sacrifices scatter like cockroaches.” He pointed out the broken window, pushing his way through the mannequins effortlessly. I glanced outside, seeing thousands of people sprinting down the dark city streets. The inferno and thick clouds of smoke had moved much closer, and every few seconds, the ground shook slightly, as if we were experiencing the aftershocks of an earthquake.
“What can I do against such a beast?” I asked, my heart freezing with terror. But when I looked back over, I saw his form dissolving again, becoming translucent and drifting away like ashes. It seemed even Lucifer didn’t want to be present when the Hell-beast arrived.
“Seek divine wisdom,” he said, his voice trailing off into whispers. “Remember the source.”
***
Now crowds of tens of thousands of people were streaming into the city, filling every single inch of the streets. Their panic and fear was contagious. I felt it rising inside my body like a snake spiraling up my spine. I took off down the hallway, running through the swarm of frozen mannequins, each in their own ferocious position of attack. The lights flickered faster and went out. Yet the fires outside cast the entire world in a bloody glow, giving me enough light to see by and find my way. I sprinted down the stairwell, taking them two steps at a time. The screaming outside grew louder and more pain-filled. The shaking of the ground worsened with every passing second.
I burst out of the front entrance, seeing a world on fire all around me. Thousands of crushed, bleeding and burned bodies stretched out as far as the eye could see. Behind all this chaos and death, I saw a monster of unimaginable proportions slinking its way towards me.
Lucifer was right, I realized: Hell was not a place, but a creature, an enormous monster the size of a town. It had thousands of skittering, jointed legs that looked like little more than skeletal arms and hands, each of them dozens of feet long and white as freshly-cut marble. Its body stretched out to the horizon, an enormous blood-red cylinder of bony plates that slithered and undulated with a serpentine grace. Waves of peristalsis traveled down its length, like writhing intestines. Thousands of curving, bony spikes stabbed out of it, pointing in every direction. Like the quills of a porcupine, it would protect the massive creature’s body from many forms of attack, if anything was big enough to attack such an abomination.
Hell’s massive eyes flickered, balls of fire that spun and danced. They looked as bright as the Sun. Something like solar flares seemed to emanate from the orbs, flashes of blinding energy that floated over the apocalyptic wasteland. As its many legs smashed the ground, they left trails of fire that caused everything to explode into flames as if napalm dripped from its limbs.
But Hell’s most terrifying feature was its seven dark mouths. Its body looked a thousand feet wide, and the mouths at the front were evenly dispersed. At the front, blood-red teeth in the shape of enormous railroad spikes shone. Its lipless, skeletal face grinned as it moved forward, shaking the ground with every step. The mouths were on long, snake-like necks that could stretch out hundreds of feet. They moved forward in a blur, snapping up as many panicked souls as they could.
Countless souls in the rocky plains of the Bardo ran for their lives, away from this juggernaut. I saw men and women who looked like they came from every country and profession, some dressed in suits or spotless white lab coats, others wearing rags or orange prison jumpsuits. And yet, they all screamed in agony and fear here, their bodies pressed together in a crowd, and no one seemed to remember anything but their own mortal terror. Their voices came out faint and weak next to the roaring of Hell. It shook the ground all around us, as if an earthquake were tearing the land apart.
The first frantic runners of the surging crowd had nearly reached me. The nearest person, a young woman in her mid-twenties dressed in all white, was only ten feet behind me. She looked like she came from wealth, and even from here, I could see a ring with a massive diamond gleaming on her finger.
I took off blindly down the familiar streets of the city where I worked and lived, but these also seemed different. The church down the street from the hospital where I worked had a Satanic pentagram instead of a cross now, its exterior painted a bright, gleaming blood-red. When I had driven past it today on my way to work, I remember it read, “JESUS said, ‘I am the Way, the Truth and the Life. No one comes to the Father except through Me.’”
Now it read, “Nietzsche said, ‘Of all evil, I deem you capable. I have often laughed at the weaklings who thought themselves good simply because they had no claws.’” I wondered what that meant. Was that some sort of comment on me, on all of us here?
The woman I had seen running had caught up with me. She was fast, much faster than her slim body suggested. Her blue eyes were frantic and wild, filled with an animal panic.
“It’s right behind us!” she screamed, her face covered in a sheen of sweat. I was afraid to turn and look, but I could hear the chaos and bloodshed approaching, smell the flames and choking smoke. “Run! Get away!”
A new wave of energy surged through my body. I sprinted as fast I could down the strange mirror streets of the Bardo. I heard the agonized cries of countless souls behind us as the seven mouths of Hell ate them all greedily and then looked for more.
A skyscraper behind us collapsed into a pile of rubble, shaking the ground with a cacophony of falling concrete and shattering glass. The woman was running by my side. Just as I heard the breathing of something huge and predatory right behind us and smelled its sulfuric breath, a piece of concrete the size of a basketball broke off the collapsing skyscraper and flew into the road. I tripped over it, yelling as I flew through the air, skinning my arms and legs on the pavement. The woman’s eyes widened. Hurriedly, she came over and reached down her hand, trying to help me up.
“Come on, come on!” she cried. I looked behind her, seeing one of the gnashing mouths of Hell reaching forward on a blood-red, serpentine neck. The mouth was big enough to drive a tractor trailer into, filled with huge spikes of teeth. Its throat led into a black, smoke-filled abyss. Its fiery eyes were swirling pools of flickering orange light that shone with bloodlust and insanity. They focused on the woman, the entire head turning on its slithering neck.
I frantically raised my hand, intertwining my fingers with hers. Her hand was warm and soft. She started to pull me to my feet when the mouth of Hell snapped forward. Its jaw unhinged, scraping the pavement with a sound like grinding metal. The woman barely had time to turn as the mouth covered her and snapped shut with a crack.
She disappeared from view instantly, but I was still holding her hand. In horror, I felt warm rivers of blood explode all over my body as the mouth of Hell severed her arm at the wrist. She screamed, bleeding and crying, as she disappeared into the throat of Hell. Hell’s fiery eyes focused on me, and at that moment, I knew I was next. Its mouth opened wide again, like a bear trap ready to spring on a new victim.
It was dark in Hell’s mouth, but I smelled the thick reek of old blood and fire. I caught glimpses of tortured, mutilated bodies writhing and crawling down its throat. Shell-shocked, I could only lay there and watch. And that was when the strange doubling started.
***
I heard the frantic voices of men break through the fog of darkness and the fetid reek of blood. There was a mechanical beeping all around me, but I couldn’t tell where it was coming from.
“Clear!” one cried. I looked around, only seeing blackness. At that moment, I felt a surge of electricity rip itself through my body. My arms and legs all seized and my eyes rolled up in my head as the pain sizzled through each one of my nerves. I clutched the young woman’s hand tightly, feeling the large, gold ring with the massive diamond biting into my skin.
“Again!” another voice yelled.
“Clear!” the original voice cried. The electricity came again, and a flash of white light flew across my vision. I blinked, seeing from two sets of eyes at the same time: one in the Bardo, and one on the blood-stained floor of the hospital ward.
The Bardo stayed dark and sinister, but the clear white lights of the real psychiatric ward were blinding. It was a bizarre experience. Moreover, everything hurt. Over a few seconds, my vision of the Bardo faded, and I was simply a gravely injured man laying on the floor in a puddle of blood.
Four doctors and paramedics were crouching over me with a defibrillator. My shirt was ripped off, and nearly all of my skin was covered in blood. I raised my left hand, trying to talk, but only a fiery pain raced through my neck. I felt bandages covering my skin. A nurse was rolling a stretcher down the hallway towards me.
“It’s OK,” one of the doctors said, kneeling down. “You’re being taken to emergency surgery. You’ve lost a lot of blood.” I wanted to say something, but I couldn’t talk with the massive slice in my neck.
At that moment, I felt something in my right hand. I looked down, seeing a slim female hand with a massive diamond ring hanging there. Our fingers were wrapped around each other’s, but the hand had been cut off at the wrist. A ragged patch of bloody flesh and snapped bone poked out of the back.
“Nnnn,” I tried to say, shaking my head. I felt fresh streams of warm blood open up. “No…” The doctors looked down, seeing the dismembered hand. Their faces morphed into expressions of confusion and fear.
I closed my eyes as they lifted me up on the stretcher. One of them gently removed the cold hand from my fingers. But they could never remove the memory of what I had seen.
I know what happens after death, and it makes the worst life here seem like a dream. I know that, one day, I’ll be returned to that place. I know that, one day, I’ll see that great monster called Hell and the featureless, swirling sky of the Bardo again.
And the next time, I won’t wake up on a hospital floor, but will be trapped there with the others for eternity: an eternity of blood and fire.

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