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Abu Dhabi Tour Best Deal
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We are going to get a phone for our 11 year old. Next year at school he will be going on overnight trips without me and I want to be able to contact him while he's gone. He's also getting left out of social activities because the other boys can't text him so I do want him to be able to text, but no social media. I don't want a wifi only phone because I want it to have service all the time.
I'm debating on what kind of phone to get. An older Android that I can set up Family link on? I've read this is easy for kids to hack. I can add this to our current phone plan for relatively cheap.
Then there's the Gabb and Bark phones, which seem expensive but sound like they have better controls.
Do they make dumb phones that aren't flip phones? Like one that looks like a regular smart phone but with very limited access to the internet? I do want him to be able to use it to listen to music through our Amazon music account.
Any advice?

To summarise, I was attempting the poetry question (section B) about the theme of being alone in HPT and one other poem. I had set myself around 50-55 minutes for this question bcz I wanted to maximise my marks on it since i was pretty confident with the pairing. So basically I finished all the 6 pages we were given in approx. 50 mins and that was when I asked an invigilator for extra paper.
However, they told me that they weren't supplied with any extra paper and therefore I couldn't write any more This went against everything that my teachers, friends, and school told me so I immediately asked them to call the lead examiner. I wasn't too surprised because a similar incident had happened in my bio exam a few days earlier (but that didn't end up too bad bcz I only had a few extra lines to write).
Once the exam supervisor arrived, he said the same thing and told me Edexcel hadn't provided them with any extra sheets. I was getting quite nervous and frustrated and after numerous appeals, the head examiner told me to write my remaining response on the last page for section C (which was Of Mice and Men for me).
I tried to appeal and tell him that this would confuse the examiner and my response would be messed up but he wouldn't listen and considering that I had already wasted a few precious minutes during this conversation, I decided to listen to him.
So then i wrote an additional paragraph and a short conclusion on the last two pages given to use for Section C. I had labelled it as a continuation of the poetry question and had also written: GO TO THE LAST PAGE FOR CONTINUATION on the bottom of the last page for poetry. However, it was quite small and very cramped and messy so i'm worried the examiner might miss it and won't mark it.
the reason im scared is bcz my summary was rly good and it basically links everything which I analysed so without it I may not get a good mark. Also, the last two pages were kinda muddled up so my 5th paragraph was on the last page and my conclusion was on the second last page.
After the exam, I told this to my mother (who is an invigilator herself) and she met the head examiner herself and raised the issue with him. He confirmed that there would be no issues during marking. Surprisingly, another invigilator told us that they had extra paper all along and that there must have been a big misunderstanding (which I don't believe, i think it was a case of blatant laziness and ignorance).
Regardless, my parents raised this issue with senior members of the british council in my city (as i'm a private candidate) and they promised to get this issue fixed. However, I'm still worried about if the examienr would discredit those 1 and 1/2 pages which I wrote and if he was able to read my continuation message at the bottom of the page.
this whole issue has rly bummed me out because overall I found the exam easy and I was able to answer all the questions pretty well. so if any of you guys have any prior experiences with such circumstances or have any advice, please share it with me. Thanks.
TL;DR: examiner didn't give me extra paper and gave me incorrect instructions abt writing my response on the wrong section.

We are going to get a phone for our 11 year old. Next year at school he will be going on overnight trips without me and I want to be able to contact him while he's gone. He's also getting left out of social activities because the other boys can't text him so I do want him to be able to text, but no social media. I don't want a wifi only phone because I want it to have service all the time.
I'm debating on what kind of phone to get. An older Android that I can set up Family link on? I've read this is easy for kids to hack. I can add this to our current phone plan for relatively cheap.
Then there's the Gabb and Bark phones, which seem expensive but sound like they have better controls.
Do they make dumb phones that aren't flip phones? Like one that looks like a regular smart phone but with very limited access to the internet? I do want him to be able to use it to listen to music through our Amazon music account.
Any advice?

Hello travelers!
So my wife and I booked a last minute cruise to Iceland and Norway through NCL this June. We're a family of four, with 3-year-old and 8-month-old boys.
Our Itinerary is as follows:
Day 1 - Reykjavik (Embarkation) Day 2 - Grundarfjordur Day 3 - Akureyri Day 4 - Sea Day Day 5 - Kristiansund (Norway) Day 6 - Trondheim (Norway) Day 7 - Alesund (Norway) Day 8 - Sea Day Day 9 - Husavik Day 10 - Isafjordur Day 11 - Reykjavik (Debarkation)
We're arriving one day before and staying one day after the cruise in Reykjavik.
I was looking for some general tips and advice as to our Itinerary. Looking at the excursions offered directly through NCL (as well as privately through other companies), I feel like what's available isn't really something the kiddos would appreciate or enjoy. Don't think it's a good idea to book many of those excursions for two main reasons:

1. Many are 3-8 hour long tours, something little kids would probably hate. While ours are generally well behaved and we've traveled extensively with them on multi day, hour long trips, that's usually in the comfort and privacy of our own cars. Also, these tours involve either clamoring onto boats for nature or wildlife watching, moderately difficult hikes, or really long drives. Stuff I think our kiddos might be over with in the first 20 minutes lol.
   
2. We want to be considerate of everyone else! There are likely many others on these tours, and don't want to subject them to our kids' potential tantrums, where they are stuck with us for hours. We understand little kids can be stressful, and we're already "intruding" on many people's vacation by simply coming along on the cruise, so we want to limit our impact on others' holiday as much as possible.
   

Some questions/advice sought are:

• As it relates to the Icelandic ports, are all these ports generally easy to walk around and explore on foot immediately following getting off the ship? We're considering maybe doing our own thing rather than booking tours, and simply walk around leisurely and poke around these ports. Is this feasible to do given our Itinerary?
  
• We are wanting to travel lightly, and are debating leaving our car seats behind. I understand Iceland's laws as they relate to child seats. Are taxis or other car transport services easy to book, and how difficult is it to request appropriate child seats? Good idea to leave the car seats at home, or bite the bullet and bring em with us?
  
• Given our Itinerary, anything special or interesting for little kids that stick out at any or these ports? Any recommendations of tours, sights, or experiences would be great!
  

I'm writing this sleep-deprived after I've been lied to. I don't want to get into details, but I'm about to lose sleep and I'm already barely functioning and suicidal.
I wasn't always a misanthrope. It took decades, but it's cemented. I expect people to step on me because it's easy- I'm older, AFAB, no support system and I'm clearly different. I used to be semi-decent in masking, but not anymore.
I'm recognized with CPTSD and basically deserve no therapy and I can't pay out of pocket. I gave up on having an official ASD dx because it costs an arm and a leg and as an older adult, you barely get any help. Plus, my family is abusive and for some reason I need them for a dx, which is bloody stupid. I can't think straight anyway due to the sleep deprivation.
All I wanted was a private and quiet apartment to hide in for awhile. I can't have that. And I'm running out of money and motivation trying to find the next apartment, where I'm being bombarded with noise, forced to go to sleep and wake up due to others' rudeness and lack of basic care. Who am I? I'm just a stranger, I don't need sleep, or the ability to think, plan, function and have my hobbies.
I keep thinking that maybe I should get a friend, but I don't believe in friendships, especially at my age, and with my co-morbidities. Every time I got a friend, it came with a price.
I just wanted to rant about my general disdain for people. There's no coming back from that. I'm tired of being dumb for giving anyone the benefit of the doubt.

Don't hesitate to tell me what you think of my summary.
Let's do a quick summary of the elements of volume 3-5. During the examination of the uninhabited island, it's the 2nd part that proves interesting, with the surprise attack by Komiya's team serving as a warning to Ayanokoji even though he suspected that a student from the White Room might be behind it, and above all Nanase's attack. It's a shame Koji didn't really reach out to him...
I'd be curious to hear your opinion on what might have happened in volume 4 if Ichinose hadn't warned Ayanokoji of what was waiting for him in box I2. Would he have been able to recover from this element of surprise? Would it have had much influence on his confrontation with Tsukishiro?
It's funny that Nagumo's stupid decision to interfere with Koji at the last minute led to his defeat by Koenji. It was a really badass moment from Koji!
Can we talk for 2 seconds about ‘Baburn’ aka Kiryuuin, who trolls by letting us think she knows how to fight (see the image of the gallery at the beginning of the volume) and the fact that she has no knowledge of martial arts but manages to stall perfectly. I thought it was hilarious.
To sum up, these two volumes were extraordinary, not forgetting volume 5, which is Koji's first involvement in class decision-making. It was felt more strongly and directly. In the past, he would have continued to give hints on how to reach a decision via Horikita, Hirata and Kei, but this time he's responsible for the direct elimination of Airi.
I have two mixed feelings about Airi's elimination. I understand the decision and I also think we should have voted for her (I was already spoiled since 2021 at least). From a purely spectator point of view, the drama surrounding her elimination is a masterclass.
Haruka asking Koji ‘are you capable of looking Airi in the eye and telling him that he has to eliminate her?
He's about to do it and it's Haruka who stops him at the last minute. That would have been incredibly cruel!
As a reader, the plot and the tension are exceptional, but if I'd been in the same class as them it would have been unbearable. The proof was in Chabashira, who couldn't stand on her feet.
Regarding Horikita's decision following this review. I'd already read the opinions against her decision since 2022. Reading her arguments for saving Kushida, I think she's still thinking things through, and the most important thing is that she'll try to make the most of her abilities. She's already proved this by signing a 10,000-point private contract with Koenji. In short, I think we're already a long way from a simple talk no jutsu attempt on her part.
She's evolved enough since her talk with Manabu to move forward. Kushida's secret is out in the open, so it's impossible for her to try and expel her entire class. So I think it's a good idea to try and turn Kushida's weakness into an asset for the D class. Basically, the D class is made up of individuals who have potential but have often suffered trauma or other events that prevent them from progressing, so getting rid of Kushida is an easy option, but we can't ignore her communication skills on a whim.
On the other hand, I think it's a shame that after a year and a half Ayanokoji is still finding it hard to see the people he comes into contact with as anything other than a means to an end.
I sincerely hope that his character will evolve. He won't be able to continue a relationship like this one with Kei or the manipulation he does with Nanase by exploiting her guilt in order to have a spy among the seconds.
The only good thing is that he's aware of it and seems to be making it his goal to make Kei independent by the end of the 3 years so that she stops acting like a parasite.

Heya folks, so here is a very niche question that I hope I can find some info on. Basically, I am able to get a secondhand PS4 on the v9 firmware, which can be hacked into a Linux device as far as I understand.
I was considering doing this, so I can use it a simple 'media station' computer attached to my TV. The media station should, ideally, be able to run Parsec, store media files sent over ftp (so movies can be played on the PS4).
If it works like I imagine, it would be an easy way to stream PC games from my upstairs PC with Parsec, play videos/music, and have a PS4 on top. Is this something anyone has tried? Does anyone have experience with PS4 Linux?
Any help would be greatly appreciated!
Regards, Vincent

666 AND BAR-CODES, MARK OF THE BEAST
(Hatonn here describes in 1991 how it will be. I suggest ghat it dexcribes today how it is. Everything is marked including us.)
I have been asked time and again about the connections and if, in fact, there are connections regarding the 666 symbol and bas-codes.
I can assure you of one thing, the number 666 does not randomly appear any more often than does 222, 444, or say, 333. Nevertheless, it is quite obvious that WHERE the numbers appear is very definitely of great importance. The numbers 666 are rapidly becoming man's favorite number and keep popping up in strange places--even though a recognized symbol of pure Satanic code--it is appearing more frequently than any other "number" in the so-called Christian and other religious placements. It is worthy of the time to speak of this matter for I think you must become aware that this code is being placed on all of you. I think it worth the time to give a listing of some instances of use of this number which none of you should miss in noting.
* World Bank code number is "666".
* New credit cards in the U. S. are now being assigned the prefix 666.
* Australia's NATIONAL bank cards have the code 666.
* Central computers for Sears, Belks, Pennys, and Montgomery Wards around the world have all their transactions prefixed with 666.
* Shoes made in European Common Market Countries have stamped on inside label 666.
* Computers made by Lear Siegler have a seal on the side on which is stamped the number 666.
* Internal Revenue Service instructions for NON-PROFIT Corporation Emoloyee 1979, W-2 Form requires the prefix 666.
* Internal Revenue Service began to require the prefix of 666 on some forms; for example, W-2P, disability is 666.3; death is 666.4, etc. as early as 1977.
* Tanks built by Chrysler Corporation...have on their sides 666.
* South Central Bell's new Telco Credit Union Cards require the prefix 666, then the person's Social Security number.
*. ID tags on 1979 GM cars produced in Flint, Michigan, contain the number 666.
*. United States Selective Service Cards have on them 666.
* Overseas telephone operator number from Israel is 666.
* Arab-owned vehicles IN JERUSALEM have license plates prefixed Wirth 666.
*. Record album released by the rock group, Black Sabbath is named 666.
*. The films, Omen I and II concern themselves with a world dictator and the number 666.
* Some IBM Supermarket equipment is prefixed with the number 3.666.
* JC Penney began prefixing account numbers in August, 1980, with 666.
* Master Card began using on their August, 1980, statements--66.
* Formula for NCR Model 304 Supermarket Computer System is 6 60 6,666.
* The United Nations resolution #666 came during the Iraq War.
Precious ones, there are contests even, called "666". What is happening by total intent is to condition the world to accept the coding of 666 without question or note. There is coming a day when a world governmental system will demand that everyone in the world take a mark and the number 666 in order to work, buy or sell. This fact is clearly set forth and being followed diligently. If you think you can avoid the mark of the beast--think again--YOU ALREADY BEAR THE MARK; DON'T BE STUPID AND SET YURSELF UP TO DENY SAME. YOU ARE ALREADY MARKED AND THE INSTRUCTIONS TO REFUSE THE MARK IS NOT OF GOD'S GIVING. YOU STEP FORTH AND REFUSE WHEN Y0U ARE ALREADY WITHIN THE SYSTEM AND YOU ARE DEAD OR INCARCERATED AND USELESS UNTO GOD'S WORK. IT IS A SEPARATION ENTRAPMENT SET FORTH BY THE BEAST TO CATCH THE LIGHTED PEOPLE. YOU CAN STAY OUT OF THE SYSTEM TO THE FULL LIMIT ALLOWED BY THE LAW BUT YOU DO NO ONE A FAVOR BY GETTING YOURSELF KILLED--IT NEANS ONE LESS WORKER FOR GOD.
THE NUMBER OF MAN
Let us look at that which is projected unto you and might be well worthy of note. Then number with which all the world will be commanded to work, buy and sell during the Great Tribulation is the number of man--and you find it on all bar-codes and Elite products. Number 6 as has been distorted for identification and easy reference has even taken as the number of imperfection; the human-given human number; the number of MAN as destitute of God--without God/Christ. At any rate, it is certain that man was created on the sixth day goes the accepted WORD, and thus he would be established under the number six--which would identify him and then, it goes on with several other non-coincidental accidents in numbering. For example, six days were appointed to man for his labor so it went, while one day is associated in sovereignty with the Lord God--as his day of rest. Then the infinite symbol of 8 represents infinity or immortality which is also of God. The serpent also, was created somehow on the sixth day, or so the Goods Book says--obviously God was most busy and yet totally restricted on the sixth day of His masterful creation. The sixth clause of the Lord's Prayer treats of sin. Six is the number stamped on all that is connected with human labor. You will see it stamped upon his measures which he uses in his labour and on the time during which he labors. And you see this from the very beginning.
Six, thew number of man, is one less than seven, the number which represents God and two less than the Creation. This indicates that man was created somehow in the likeness of God, but is not God, because God is perfect and sinless and one within and with Creation. The Sixth Commandment came as a result of Cain's sin of killing his brother, and the man who will ultimately claim the number 666 will be the greatest murderer the world has ever known. God put a mark upon Cain after the murder of Abel. Although Cain's mark was for the purpose of protecting him from those who would kill him, it also signified that before God, he was condemned. God forbade the children of Judea to mark their bodies--or did he? For the translation always read "Israel". The quoting then always continues with this looking forward to the time when the "Jews", as well as the rest of the world, would be called upon to take the mark of the Anti-Christ. Well, will the "Jews" take the mark? I guess so--they crested it!
But let us look a bit further into the book of Revelation. The Apocalypse: The 'mark' itself is at once a number and a name. The Apostle tells you what it is. As he gives it, it is made up of two Greek characters which stand for the name of Christ, with a third, the figure of a crooked serpent, put between them...Thjis horrid sign must everyone receive on one of the most conspicuous parts of the body, cut, stamped or branded in, there to abide indelibly. No one may either buy or sell without this mark, and all who do receive it take upon their bodies the token and seal of heir damnation!
Do you really.believe you have not already been branded? Let us consider that, for years--well over two decades--the laser beam has been branding steers and horses--and even salmon while they remain in the stream, swimming. It is instant and painless. The laser simply destroys skin pigment. In some thirty-BILLIONTHS of a second a technician can stitch a brand--or initials, or symbol. This type of branding of animals for ownership or research purposes has become common practice. Do you think it probable that everyone of you have been branded while standing, say, in a line to vote or register your car or, or, or--certainly if you have any kind of medical examination, dental care or hospitalization--especially immunizations.
TRANSACTION CARD/FINAL CARD
This is the final laugh at the world citizenry. This is one of the world's greatest conspiracies and it is being quietly conducted in.the most sacred halls of secular secrecy, brothers. While its thrust is Economic, its reach is without limit. No System will escape its mastery, be it in Politics or religions, Social or otherwise. I told you long ago, dear ones, that the SDI program was not f defense but rather to place into space satellites which unite the entire world banking system--the beast to all other parts in instant connection--with all citizens registered, identified and located. You are all simply within the system. The point is to protect yourself from the system as much as possible and the only way to do so is to utilize the laws and rules utilized by your adversary for as long as you can do so.
The Prime Mover here is the most powerful Consortium of financial institutions, capitalists, and scientists ever leagued together. Their common purpose is to bring every person, place and thing under their total control and it is all but in place and already operational.
The applied strategy is by way of instant IDENTIFICATION. This means of ixentoification is by way of assignment of MARKS (or bars) for NUJMBERS read by machines. (Numbers people can read, Marks they can't--the name of this game is SECRECY.)
Phase I began in 1970 with a ncnscientious effort to "IDENTIFY EVERY ITEM" at the manufacturers level with a NUMBER "MARKED" on it. A group of Numbers designated by Marks, lines or bars, is called a Bar Code, (Code 39, etc.), and giant computer manufacturers are central to the phase.
Phase II began in 1973 with an effort to IDENTIFY each PERSON with a Number. The Social Security Numbers when blended with the Universal Numbering System will be converted to "Bars". Initially, the NUMBER will be "marked" on a Card; (a World_Wide Money-ID-Card). Subsequently, according to the old Bible Prophecy written ands directed by the very ones who would put it into place, it will be stamped upon the person it identifies. As the MARK OF IDENTITY on an ITEM is a Bar Code, so the MARK OF IDENTIY on a Card and later on a person, will be a Bar Code facsimile. The Government, Banks, and Card Companies are central to this phase.
Phase III is an effort to identify everything in the world, whether mobile or stationary; if mobile, then how to instantaneously locate it, as a piece of luggage, an expensive race horse, a family car, or a pet or person. Central to this is the Federal Government which has spent ten years In research on "Electronic Identification" at Los Alamos, the Airlines, and private inventors.
The symbol of 666 is absolutely instrumental to the Bar Code system. You are already in it, so let us be most careful how you handle it. Your best defense against it is to know truth about it--stop deluding yourself that you can somehow avoid the mark lest you get s special mark which sets you apart as a troublemaker and you will be among the first incarcerated or removed by other means.

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Main topic: All platforms in the sea of internet

• I collected bits of opinions here & there. At first it was just for myself, trying to build my art online. Now I hope this post can be helpful to anyone searching for options.

Minor issue: For some sites, precised & up-to-date reviews are difficult to find, because:

• Regardless of the developers' great intentions, some of them just aren't very well known.
• For the well-knowns, many of the cms are about commemoration of the "good times", and frustrations (about anything). While I fully support anyone expressing their emotions, after looking through too many sad experiences, there's a dim, hopeless filter in front of my eyes. I wish to reduce despair towards having a future in art just a bit for everyone too. So I hope to see more of current users sharing your reasons on why you're using the platforms!

-----line of division-----

Portfolio sites

Large / mainstream (with some communities)

• Artstation : For professionals; Gaming / 3d / concept art oriented; AI allowed
• Behance : "Just the term 'by Adobe' make it sounds professional"; For Adobe users
• Pixiv : Japanese manga / anime oriented; From hobbyists to professionals; AI allowed
• Deviantart : From early amateurs to skilled; Past golden era; Nostalgic values; AI allowed
• Pinterest : Easy to build; easy to share, easy to steal; Log-in required to view; AI allowed

Small-medium sized (with communities)

• Artfol : Pinterest-like UI; No AI allowed; Growing
• Cara app : Behance-like UI; No AI allowed; Growing
• Shezzy : Deviantart-like UI; No AI allowed; Starting (again)

Unknown territories. May explorers share your experiences?

• Pixelfed
• Mastodon
• Substack
• Newgrounds
• Fediverse
• Cohost
• Pillowfort

Web-hosting (Near to zero socialising) services

• Wordpress : Basic coding knowledge required to build but very customisable; Higher pricing for a domain
• Wix : Trying to be Wordpress but less marketing than Squarespace
• Squarespace : Beginner friendly UI; Front-end building oriented; Youtubers' sugar daddy
• Carrd : Simple one page UI

Not suitable for portfolio sites

• Linktree : Only for linking your other sites if you don't have a major one.
• Google drive : Don't.

-----line of division-----

Social media

• Tumblr : Post-dark ages; For bloggers, niche communities; Option to opt-out AI breeding
• Twitter : (imo 1927 USA, dark ages is coming) Socialites' banquet; Able to reach outside art community. Log-in required to view.
• Dcord : Socialites' private tea party, artists' gatherings; Log-in required to view.
• Instagram : The algorithm has decided your fate; Able to reach out of art community; AI breeding; Modern day business card; Log-in required to view.
• Threads : For the opinionated but fed up with Instagram; Log-in required to view.
• Facebook : For those with more writings; AI-breeding
• TikTok : For those with more short WIP videos; AI-breeding
• Youtube : For those with longer videos but it's becoming TikTok junior; AI-breeding
• LinkedIn : For those looking for jobs too.
• Bluesky : Immigrants from other major sites
• Reddit : The moderator has decided your fate...JK, thank you to all mods for actually making this site usable because it takes forever just to load the homepage.

-----line of division-----

Market

• Patreon : The Costco of freelancers; Basically a must-do for full-time independent digital artists; Subscription-based
• Ko-fi : The Walmart of freelancers; Suitable for amateurs, hobbyists, one-offs

Strictly all-ages sites

• Pay-sth-Pal : The most secured; Don't include adult words; Don't link to adult profiles
• E-sth-tsy : Merch oriented

Adult-friendly sites

• OnlyFans : Very adult; Maybe use alias if you have cooperate jobs
• Subscribestar : The substitute to Patreon
• Pixiv-Fanbox : Japanese manga / doujinshi oriented
• Artistree io : Better than Fiver i guess

-----line of division-----
Tl;dr: I listed out options for building internet presence now I wanna share the list.

The summer after Harry's Fourth Year, he had gone to the actual Mad-Eye Moody and begged to be trained in combat, because Voldemort was back and going to attack Harry once again. They trained together, quite brutally for months, and Moody had finally declared Harry to be "adequate." Sirius said that would make Harry a maestro at dueling and wizarding combat, with only the elite levels of magical combatants able to pierce Harry's defenses.
Dumbledore was opposed to the idea of Harry's super intense training, for some strange reason. He came to Harry in private once and tried to convince him that Harry's capacity to love would be what finally be Voldemort's undoing. The Headmaster had even told Harry about some prophecy and a "power the Dark Lord knows not," and how Dumbledore was sure that power was love. Love? Harry had to laugh.
"Love is a powerful force, Professor. But it isn't a weapon in and of itself."
But Moody's praise wasn't good enough for Harry. He needed to push himself further. He convinced Sirius to hire some tutors would had been on the international dueling circuit. These elite combatants (with further help from Moody) helped Harry refine his style to the point of perfection!
But being one of the best combatants in the wizarding world still wasn't enough for Harry. He knew how to fight Voldemort, but he didn't know how to make the man stay dead. And killing him every 13 years or so would be very tedious.
So he "borrowed" Hermione and together with Remus went on a research extravaganza. They plundered libraries across all of Europe - even getting into Durmstrang and the Magical and Philosophical Library at Alexandria. They pushed further into Greece and down into the old Empire of Mali, checking every ancient library still in existence on two continents.
Again, it wasn't enough for Harry. He needed to know more. He had to learn everything possible about whatever it was Voldemort had done to bring himself back to life. So they continued their plundering of ancient troves of knowledge, going into China, Japan, and a few treasure troves preserved in the remains of Aztec, Incan, and Mayan Empires.
With everything raided, they pooled the knowledge and figured out how Voldemort had come back to life, how he had avoided death, and - most importantly of all - how to prevent him from rising again.
After two years of training and researching, Harry was ready to confront the specter hanging over his head for the entirety of his life thus far, and beyond ready to see what life would be like in a post-Voldemort world.
It was surprisingly easy in the end. All Harry had to do was goad Voldemort by attacking his image. "Oh, the Big Bad Dark Lord, scared of a 16 year old boy! Why won't you fight me, oh Dark Lord Tom?!?"
It's amazing how much of a role schoolyard taunts can play in antagonizing people who should most definitely know better than to fall for something so simple. But with Harry laying down the gauntlet, Voldemort could not refuse to pick it up. Not without appearing weak in front of his followers and in the eyes of the public. So Voldemort delivered himself rather neatly into a trap.
The fight was fantastic. Only Dumbledore v Grindelwald's fight a half-century before eclipsed it. The countryside for a thousand yards all around was devastated. Fiery hellholes, poisonous swamps, and even zones of wildly shifting gravity littered England's green and pleasant land.
And, in the end, Harry killed Voldemort, captured the soul fragment, and did the complex ritual necessary to summon all of the soul pieces to one place, and banished them all to Hell where they belonged.
As Harry walked past a dumbfounded Dumbledore, he looked at his Headmaster and said "Love? Heh. Professor, as a wise Muggle singer once said... what's love got to do, got to do with it? What's love, but a second-hand emotion?"

Hello, so earlier today I was at work when I got an email (it was in the junk mail) and this is what was said
Hi there!

I am a professional hacker and have successfully managed to hack your operating system.
Currently I have gained full access to your account.

When I hacked into your mail_account, your password was: (old password from 2021)

In addition, I was secretly monitoring all your activities and watching you for several months.
The thing is your computer was infected with harmful spyware due to the fact that you had visited a website with porn content previously. ╭ ᑎ ╮

Let me explain to you what that entails. Thanks to Trojan viruses, I can gain complete access to your computer or any other device that you own.
It means that I can see absolutely everything in your screen and switch on the camera as well as microphone at any point of time without your permission.
In addition, I can also access and see your confidential information as well as your emails and chat messages.

You may be wondering why your antivirus cannot detect my malicious software.
Let me break it down for you: I am using harmful software that is driver-based,
which refreshes its signatures on 4-hourly basis, hence your antivirus is unable to detect it presence.

I have made a video compilation, which shows on the left side the scenes of you happily masturbating,
while on the right side it demonstrates the video you were watching at that moment..ᵔ.ᵔ

All I need is just to share this video to all email addresses and messenger contacts of people you are in communication with on your device or PC.
Furthermore, I can also make public all your emails and chat history.

I believe you would definitely want to avoid this from happening.
Here is what you need to do - transfer the Bitcoin equivalent of 1290 USD to my Bitcoin account
(that is rather a simple process, which you can check out online in case if you don't know how to do that).

Below is my bitcoin account information (Bitcoin wallet): 1LWRhKpawKGeRjxTxGyUjK4tzaAsmG8KSm

Once the required amount is transferred to my account, I will proceed with deleting all those videos and disappear from your life once and for all.
Kindly ensure you complete the abovementioned transfer within 50 hours (2 days +).
I will receive a notification right after you open this email, hence the countdown will start.

Trust me, I am very careful, calculative and never make mistakes.
If I discover that you shared this message with others, I will straight away proceed with making your private videos public.

Good luck!
(This email has me freaked out a bit, I know I will sound dumb, but I have seen others on here with similar messages but ones that have their password, I barely seen, is this something I should worry about? I have I have a different email password as stated, but I changed my Facebook password to be sure)

After clicking the link it sent me to a warning, connection not private or other forms of go back signs. Does this mean I’m hacked or something? This is in my phone

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The following two brain scans were provided by the Neuro-Warfare branch of the Halcyon Security Division (HSD) for the purpose of analyzing the thoughts, behaviors, and information of notorious gangsters Vincent 'Troy' Cohen and Bruno (Deadname: Koraak Tel-Char). At the point of the recording of this archival shared, Bruno has since received his rebirth therapy, and Vincent is currently serving a long-term rehabilitative and reeducative sentence in the Erebus Supermax Prison on Io.
Warning: the contents of this archival shared may be especially disturbing to some audiences. Viewer discretion is advised.
Warning: the contents of this archival shard are for the sole purpose of analyzing the thought patterns and memories of certain degenerate criminals in an effort to ascertain vital information that can be used to eliminate their organizations. Only staff with clearance level Omega may view this archival shared, and the viewership of this archival shared by anyone of inadequate clearance level will lead to twenty years in prison and a fine of over a hundred thousand credits.
Booting up memory scan: Vincent 'Troy' Cohen, November 4th, 2446…
Loading and processing firmware data… translating… memories and subconscious simulated…
Beginning archival shard presentation…
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"Do you have visuals of the target, Troy?"
I knelt down in the alleyway, the bodies of me and my partners shrouded in long, waterproof, ashen-gray overcoats the shade of dirty street scum that we wore to ward off the constant heavy rainfall the color of osmium. Our faces were covered in a mix of scrapped respirators, visors, or full metal face masks carved with intricate designs to hide our identities. On our waists were our badges of honor: leather belts studded with interlocked rivets made from blackened titanium, each buckle forged of silver and shaped into the head of our gang's symbol, the black mamba. We hid amongst the shadows of the dark midday of Halcyon City, the heavy, oppressive rains blanketing the roads paved obsidian-black with asphalt and weathered concrete walkways. The street lamps were always on, like beacons of false hope in a storm of melancholy.
The city was dark and dreary as always, the planet of Proxima Centauri B, renamed Dawn's Lamentation over a century ago, orbited the red dwarf star of Proxima Centauri, and the atmosphere was thick with natural smog and ever-storming rain clouds. That didn't dissuade people from living here: there was plenty of money to be had for shrewd industrialists and hardworking pioneers, even in the urban sprawl. But that life also came with risks, especially for those on the bottom of the totem pole.
I was a ganger, and we were criminals; full stop. I won't assault you with some spiel about how we're the good guys fighting oppression because, at the end of the day, we could be just as bad, if not worse, than Halcyon's Security Division, or the HSD for short. We were traffickers, killers, extortionists, and money launderers. We dealt with everything from stolen tech and military-grade hardware to hard drugs and sentients.
Yes, sentients. We trafficked sentients, but not in the way you might think. They weren't prisoners, in fact, we were their saviors if they had the cash. We had developed a reputation for fighting the power, but it was still business: sure, freeing captives from the clutches of the Protectorate. The disruption of its many oppressive organizations held a certain satisfaction in my heart for sure, but we didn't help those who couldn't pay unless someone else paid on their behalf. It was about making sure me and my gang, my family, could live a decent life for another day.
It helped that most of us joined after leaving the state yard for partaking in acts of 'degeneracy' and 'anti-xenopet illegalities' as if those terms meant anything anymore other than that we were a threat to the local status quo. It was hard to pick up a job as a former inmate when even in something as harsh and backbreaking as a job in the iridium mines near the poles when the employment office had you blacklisted as a degenerate, which lead to the formation of many of the gangs: we needed to make a living somehow, and when all social programs were cut off from you unless you submitted for 're-education' and the only way to put food on the table was subverting, breaking, or even downright fighting the law, you did what you had to do or you died on the streets a scorned beggar.
It wasn't like the HSD made it easy for us on even a good day: the local HSD units were armed to the teeth with advanced, military-grade hardware that you'd often see on the front lines of the Second Authority War: armored assault transports, a myriad of advanced war droids, all sorts of chemical countermeasures that made tear gas seem like putting the garden hose on mist mode, and of course advanced firearms. Add that to the fact that they were authorized to use deadly force when they deemed it necessary and you had a ruthless, heartless, and nearly unstoppable enemy. But we could make that work: we weren't trying to stop them, just to withstand them.
"Yeah, I got eyes on the prize, Koraak; seven armored transports, two for droids, five for prisoners."
Today wasn't a day for a normal job: we were getting bolder, cockier, more ambitious. Our numbers had swelled for the last few years after the raid at Barnard's Star and the fall of the Blood Dragon Mafia. Their leader, Saito Yasuhide, had committed seppuku as their manor burned, and his twin sons had gone down fighting rather than allowing themselves to be captured simply to face a firing squad. In the aftermath, many of the family's associates had fled to the surrounding systems, and with the sheer size and scope of the criminal underworld found here, it was no wonder that many people who had developed skills of the less legal variety had decided to form ranks with the gangs, and with them they brought guns, tech, knowledge, contacts, and even something that we thought wasn't possible beforehand: a semblance of peace between the gangs, or at least the closest thing to peace that gangs could cultivate effectively. With the fall of the Blood Dragons, we saw the writing on the wall, and the writing couldn't have been clearer: work together or die together.
"Sounds like a massacre, Troy: are you sure we can handle seven?"
"We ain't got no choice, Cinder: this job's double the usual rate, and that's not including the weapons and gear we could scrounge if this goes well," I hissed, my eyes scanning for any resistance. There were at least four guards for each van, not to mention at least eight droids in total, meaning that we were already outnumbered, but we had the element of surprise: we could make it work. "So put your balls in your purse and get ready to spill some blood."
Koraak snorted at our antics, which sounded like someone pulling the ripcord on a lawnmower. He was a veteran Russu Corsair, and while his past of slaving, raiding, and killing was unsavory, so were the lives we'd lived, so who were we to judge? All we cared about was that he was a brutal and capable fighter and a loyal brother in arms. It turned out that being a ganger wasn't much different from being a Corsair: you lived and died by a code of honor, you fought to the death for your brothers, and you lived to die for the sake of your gang and your family, simple as that. In a strange, ironic way, it was an incredibly honest way of life: we were under no illusions as to what we were, what we did, and why we did it, and we'd long since accepted it. The Russu related to us in that aspect, in many ways I could respect, which is why I hated what the Protectorate was doing, and why I couldn't grasp how most of humanity could just collectively lose their marbles so long ago. What had happened for us to deem all other life below us in such a demeaning and infantilizing way?
The Russu were a race of tall, muscle-bound Saurians with avian features, and Koraak was no exception: reaching almost seven feet in height and weighing over four hundred and fifty pounds, he could be an absolute menace if he so desired. His skin was covered in stubby, knobby scales and dense plumage, with elegant feathers adorning the ridges along his back as well as his forearms, elbows, knees, and the crests on his head. He almost looked like how paleontologists described velociraptors, with razor-sharp talons, feathers shaded in vibrant greens, reds, and purples, and a maw full of sharp teeth, but at the tip of his snout was a sharp, beak-like growth meant for ripping flesh off the bone.
The Russu were strange as hell, but they also looked almost cute in the same way a fully grown alligator was cute: they were obviously dangerous, but humans would always have this innate desire to anthropomorphize them and to pet them for some inexplicable reason, although common sense usually prevented that, at least amongst the very few of us left that were sane.
"Shut up, Troy! All I'm saying is that that'll be rough, and you know it," hissed Cinder. Cinder was a tall black man whose coffee-colored skin was covered in tattoos. He wore an ebony mechanic's jumpsuit with metal inserts underneath his grimy overcoat covering his body and a faded black respirator on his face. His eyes were a startling blue that seemed sorely out of place, and his hair was braided into thick cornrows along his scalp. He wore a pair of heavy black combat boots and palmed his compact shotgun in his hands, the square barrel less than seven inches. Like a lot of the weapons the Black Mambas carried on their persons and dealt in, they fired caseless ammunition; in Cinder's case it was 16x40mm caseless shotshells filled with depleted uranium micro-flechetes no thicker than a toothpick. Cinder nervously fiddled with the detachable tube magazine underneath the barrel, his hands shaking. Despite the shit I have him, I didn't blame him for being anxious: I was anxious too, even if I refused to show it. The biting cold of unease and pessimism was in my stomach, and I ran all the way that this job could go wrong in my head over and over.
"Just hold yourself together, this ain't anything we haven't done before, there's just more of it," I reassured Cinder, "besides, we're not alone; we have reinforcements across the street. We'll make it out of this alive."
Cinder nodded almost absentmindedly, his eyes downcast and his breathing shallow. I turned from him and back to Koraak, who was making sure he had everything on his person; he had a synthetic leather bandoleer across his chest that contained the heavy eight guage depleted uranium slugs he kept loading and unloading into his much larger, longer, and more traditional shotgun he nicknamed ‘carnage’ and several leather straps that held his Tu'shan daggers: traditional Russu pyramidal blades forged from a silvery alloy with all three edges serrated and the tip barbed to leave behind horrible, gaping wounds that gushed blood. They were wickedly sharp and absolutely straight like a stiletto, and the hilts and pommels were beautifully decorated. He wore no clothes underneath his overcoat to cover the countless scars and blemishes he's earned in combat across his chest and abdomen, and instead of a normal respirator or visor, he simply wore a hood over his head and some traditional Russu facial armor to protect his mouth, eyes, and cheeks.
"You ready to fight, Koraak? The caravan will pick up and leave soon."
Koraak was silent for a moment before nodding, a human gesture he had picked up after serving as a soldier with the Black Mambas for years. "I'm always ready to fight," he said before lifting up his shotgun and aiming down the sights at the reinforced front wheels of the first armored car in the caravan. He exhaled and fired, the slug ripping through both front tires and causing them to deflate and fall apart. The echo of the shot rang through the alleyway and the street, causing pedestrians to panic and flee the scene as heavily armored guards poured out of the side doors of the armored cars and unholstered their carbines.
"Go, now!" I shouted, and both me and Cinder rushed out into the fray, our guns raised. Koraak was right behind the two of us, providing covering fire with his shotgun. Several guards fell quickly, Koraak's precise fire and the sheer force of the depleted uranium slugs putting them down for good as their heads were vaporized or their chest cavities were turned to mush. He emptied the tube with one final shot that painted the grey matter of a security guard on the door of one of the armored cars, then racked the shotgun and expertly loaded it in threes, his hands deft and agile as he reached for more slugs faster than any human.
With the cacophony of our initial assault, more Black Mambas poured out from the alleyways and the subways, armed to the teeth with all manner of weapons; shotguns, submachine guns, pistols, machetes, baseball bats, and all manner of homemade explosives. Molotovs and more potent concoctions shattered against the asphalt, herding in the caravan guards with their volatile contents as they were quickly gunned down. The assault was working, and we were winning.
Then I heard the robotic whine of a combat droid activating, and my heart sank. One of the armored cars in the back activated the four combat droids it held, the robotic assault units detaching from their charging ports on the sides of the large van and began to form up, each armed with a terrifying array of deadly weapons meant to quash any and all resistance. They were blocky, soulless, utilitarian things that stood at eight feet tall, with flat feet meant for stomping and blades, grasping claws designed to lacerate flesh and shatter bone. On each shoulder was a weapon: on the left was a multi-barrel rotary grenade launcher loaded with 15mm concussion grenades, and on the right was a burst-fire splinter cannon. They were all painted a dull grayish-green, the color of Halcyon's Security Division, although some had a few decorations on them: the one closest to me had a bit of graffiti on the side that said Mr. Hugs in Comic Sans, which I couldn't decide whether that made it more or less terrifying. They split up without hesitation and began to scan the chaotic battlefield, their single, red, beady lenses the security forces had the gall to call eyes focusing on specific targets to eliminate.
An entire group of Black Mambas was torn to pieces by a cloud of flechettes as one of the droids fired a withering three-round burst of shotshells from the four gauge splinter cannon mounted on its shoulder. Another picked up a Black Mamba in its hand and crushed her skull effortlessly before tossing her limp body to the side, its single, red, remorseless robotic eye tracking a new target. Most bullets that struck their thick armored chassis simply bounced off, and those that could pierce the armor didn't seem to phase the droids whatsoever, merely notifying them of a new potential target.
"Damnit," I shouted as I gunned down another guard only for two more to take his place. "Cinder! We gotta pop open the cars and scram! Get the maglock cutters!"
Cinder rushed and slid over through a dirty puddle, pulling out a maglock cutter from the inside of his coat and slipping it onto the back door of the first van. It immediately went to work, drilling through the maglock with a high-powered plasma torch nozzle, and within ten seconds we heard the telltale clunk of the maglock separating. I yanked the door open and ordered I side, ready to escort the prisoners out… only for my face to contort in shock and horror.
The back was empty. There was not a single soul inside of the back brig of the armored car.
"What the fuck…" Cinder gasped, his eyes wide with shock. "What the actual fuck… what the fuck is this, Troy?"
"I… I don't…" I stuttered the sounds of battle and carnage drowned out by the sound of blood rushing in my ears. All five cars were supposed to be filled with recently captured Russu from the front lines ready to be housed in the local Xenopet-Megaplex for processing and conditioning. The fact that this one was empty…
Suddenly, it all hit me at once with the force of a freight train, but it was too late. "We were set up, Cinder; our fucking client either squealed or was crooked to begin with…"
"Fucking bitch!" Cinder shouted as he spun around in an enraged arch, anger growing in his eyes. He aimed his shotgun at an approaching security guard and reduced his upper body to a fine red mist with a cacophony of shotgun blasts. "We gotta get everyone who's left out of here! Do you know what this means? The Jurors will be here soon, and then we're all going down! We gotta go, fuck the job!"
I grit my teeth. Not the Jurors, anything but the Jurors.
"Fine, gather everyone who's left and we'll slip through the sewers, the droids are too bulky to follow us there…"
As I spoke, my eyes wandered to the seventh and final armored car, the second of the droid cars, and my blood froze. Not only were all four ports empty, but they were also smaller and more shallow than the ports for the combat droids. That could only mean one thing.
"Oh fuck! Cinder, we gotta get our Russu members out of here! They've got arachnid droids!"
Arachnid droids were the stuff of nightmares. Resembling blocky, robotic arachnids the size of a manhole cover, they were specifically designed to take down sentient aliens, specifically the Russu, using sickeningly non-lethal means. They were equipped with full-body adaptive cloaking to blend in with their environments, paralytic agents that they could inject into their victims, built-in taser barbs, psychedelic gas ports for crowd-control, and a narrow-coned cacophony canon that disabled the Russu using incredibly high-pitched sounds that only they could hear, forcing them onto their knees and clutching the backs of their heads where their auditory organs were stored in agony. But worst of all was their stygian spinnerets: special ports near the end of their robotic abdomens that excreted a viscous, latex-like substance made up of millions of nano-bots. This substance could be used to render Russu blind, deaf, and mute by having it forced onto their faces, the black substance growing and enveloping their heads and working its way into every orifice. It was completely permeable to the standard atmosphere, but any Russu who had been 'webbed' was completely helpless and essentially captured, and the 'webbing' was both nearly indestructible and nigh impossible to remove without a triple-encrypted override key that was found in every arachnid droid's code, which was corrupted when the droid was destroyed or hacked into. Once you were 'webbed', you were essentially captured and the standard protocol was to leave you to the wolves since the nano-bots could be tracked, endangering the entire gang.
I turned just as I heard the deafening sound of Koraak discharging his shotgun, and I saw him squaring off against one of the assault droids. The droid has obviously been programmed to not use lethal force against Russu if possible, as instead of simply killing Koraak with it's shoulder-mounted splinter cannon, it approached with its claws extended, blades retracted. Koraak continued to back away and fire, pumping the droid full of depleted uranium slugs, its armor crumbling inward as the slugs pierced its chassis and damaged its internal cyberstructure. Eventually, Koraak ran out of slugs and instinctively reached to his bandoleer only to find that he had no more shells left at all, and he drew one of his knives and his sidearm, a simple high-caliber handgun. He tried to take down the droid with his handgun, but the bullets didn't even seem to affect the droid upon penetration, it's claws still extended as it attempted to apprehend Koraak.
In the corner of my vision, as I watched Koraak battle with the droid, I noticed a faint shimmer in the air on one of the black streetlight poles that was right behind him. I focused on it and blinked, believing my eyes had deceived me for a moment before realizing that it was actually a cloaked arachnid droid stalking Korvaak, ready to pounce and incapacitate him.
Before I could shout, it leaped from the pole and landed on Korvaak, causing him to shout in surprise while it began to coagulate its horrifying stygian webbing to disable Korvaak. Korvaak tried to wrestle it off of him, but the droid was agile and fast, clinging onto Korvaak and skittering around across his upper body as he attempted to grab it, forcibly wrapping the sticky black liquid across his face as he gagged like a spider wrapping up a fly. I rushed towards him to try and help, but I felt pain explode in my ribs as I was struck with the arm of the closest combat droid and launched into the chassis of a parked car, the metal denting from the sheer force of impact. I groaned in pain as I saw stars and my head spun, and just then I felt a blinding light be cast over me.
“Drop your weapons and kneel with your hands on your head, or you will be pacified with deadly force!” Shouted a loud, artificially deepened voice from above. “I repeat, drop your weapons and kneel with your hands on your head! Neither hostility nor hesitation will be tolerated!”
It was the Jurors, I could feel the air being pushed around from the thrusters on their drop ships, and I could hear screams and shouts as my fellow Black Mambas were quickly gunned down. I couldn’t see well since I was seeing double, but I could hear the slaughter as my eyes dimmed and I began to lose consciousness, my regrets crawling up my throat like vomit.
I’m sorry was all I could think as everything finally went dark, and the sounds of chaos, destruction, and combat faded away.
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Memory halted due to loss of consciousness. Booting next available memory in shard…
Booting up memory scan: Koraak Tel-Char Bruno, November 5th, 2446…
Loading and processing firmware data… translating… memories and subconscious simulated…
Beginning archival shard presentation…
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“Good morning, sleepyhead; it’s time for breakfast.”
My eyes shot open. I was not in the street anymore, nor was I home in my bed with my mate. I knew instantly that something was horribly wrong. I tried to stand up, but I couldn’t gain the leverage to do so: my ankles had been shackled together with magnetic cuffs and my arms were forced together in front of me.
I was wearing some kind of thick shirt. It was warm, fluffy, and comfortable on the inside, but it still made me incredibly uncomfortable that my arms didn’t have a free range of motion. I looked down to see that I was wearing some human garment I had heard about before, a straightjacket maybe?
The entire room was padded: the walls, the floor, even the ceiling. There was no bed or furniture; the floor was soft enough to serve as a bed in itself. There was nothing else except for the soft reddish-orange lights on the ceiling that somehow made me sleepy. I blinked slowly for a moment, my body screaming at me to just lay back down and lose consciousness, but I couldn’t do that: I needed to figure out where I was and how to escape.
Then I noticed who was speaking to me: it was a short human female, with crow's feet around her blue eyes, blonde hair braided down her back, and freckles all over her face. She had a soft smile on her lips, and her forehead was slightly crinkled. She wore a full-body white lab suit with a white overcoat and a pair of glasses for snugly on her face.
"There we go, now I can see those pretty eyes, such a beautiful shade of teal," she cooed softly, "You're such a handsome boy, even with all those scars: I'm sure you'll be adopted very quickly once we get you fixed up."
Fear gripped my heart as I began to piece all the evidence together. I had been captured; I was no longer on Halcyon, and instead, I was in one of the horrific space-born facilities I had heard so much about from the inside agents. I started to hyperventilate and squawk like a newborn hatchling, my eyes dilating in panic. This couldn't be happening! This has to be a nightmare!
The human woman merely wrapped her arms around me and pulled me into an embrace, cradling my head under her chin and speaking softly. I couldn't bite at her or claw at her: I was muzzled and wearing a straight jacket, so I had no choice but to allow her to coddle me.
"It's okay, sweetheart: I understand you're scared, but Julie's here to make all the pain and bad thoughts go away," she said as if she was comforting a child, which made anger blossom in my chest indignantly. "I'll be your caretaker for the next few months, and I'm going to make sure you're healthy, happy, and most importantly safe while you're under our care. I'm sorry to say that includes your restraints and restrictive clothing, but we have to make sure you aren't a threat to yourself or others before we can determine if it's a good idea to remove you from suicide watch."
I growled under my muzzle. Suicide watch? They must have had a lot of instances of Russu taking their own lives after being captured, something I wished I had been able to do before that damnable droid launched itself onto me and…
I shuddered at the thought of the black, viscous substance forcing itself into my nostrils and down my throat and windpipe, gagging me and rendering me completely helpless. It was so cold, so harsh, like slime, and when I had tried to tear it off of my face it merely attached itself to my claws and bound my talons together. I remember squirming on the ground as it enveloped me, unable to see, hear, or speak, and then everything went dark in an instant. It was the most horrible thing I had ever experienced, which was saying something.
"You alright, sweetheart? Oh, I know, you're probably hungry! Here, try some of this." She held up a piece of what looked like raw bacon and wiggled it in front of me before reaching out to remove my muzzle. In an instant, I attempted to snap at her only for pain to blossom in my forehead and my eyes to roll up in my head as I convulsed. It was like something was attempting to drill through my skull from the inside, and every breath felt empty and labored.
"Now, that didn't feel very nice, did it? This is why we have countermeasures in place because we can't trust you yet, sweetheart! Don't worry, we'll work on breaking you of all those bad behaviors and habits while you're here; after all, a well-trained pet is a happy pet!" She began to stroke the crests on my head as I slowly recovered, and she snugly fit the muzzle back onto my snout. "But I won't hold it against you this time, sweetheart; you're just scared and confused, but I'll make all the pain go away."
I struggled in the straight jacket, trying my best to break out of it, but it was no use. Eventually, I became exhausted and despondent, allowing my new caretaker to have her way with me as she gently ran her fingers through my feathers and along my ridges, quietly speaking to me in a hopeless attempt to cheer me up. She seemed genuinely concerned for my well-being, which concerned me even further: who could be this naturally twisted while attempting to be as benevolent and kindhearted as possible?
I felt the pain and terror build up in my chest, the anxiety from what horrific activities I imagined they had planned for me here. I couldn't take the infantilization, the lack of any autonomy, the dehumanization, and what I feared the most was if the rumors of 'rebirth' were true: would they take my personhood from me?
Suddenly, I felt her whisper to me. "Don't worry sweetheart, I know you're so scared and confused, but I promise you everything will be okay: it's going to be your birthday soon, and then everything will get better." She ran her fingers through the feathers along my crest lovingly. "It will be such a wonderful day, and then we'll choose for you the most wonderful family, and you'll spend the rest of your life happy in your forever home! Doesn't all of that sound wonderful?"
I wanted to die. I wanted to disappear. I didn't want to lose myself, not like this, not to these monsters!
"It'll be your birthday soon," she said wistfully as if she was remembering similar events to this in the past like I wasn't the first she'd done this too, "and you'll never be sad again."
I realized that I wasn't the first the stay in this particular cell, and I knew for certain that I wouldn't be the last: I'd end up like my brother, a broken, erased mess of a pathetic creature, reduced to nothing more than a pet for these humans to amuse themselves with.
"We took the liberty of picking out a nice name for you, sweetheart! Now, let me just slip this little programming chip into the port slot on your occipital bone, and... there we go! It will also help you calm down a bit and adjust."
I felt the chip begin to invade my mind, suppressing my thoughts. What made me me was slowly being ripped out of my mind. I couldn't remember my name my name is Bruno, and I needed to get out! I can't let them do this to me! Somebody help me! I was a good boy.
##Do not think. You are a good boy.##
I tried to scream, but my voice wouldn't work: I had trouble forming any words at all, the confusion clouding my mind like wet, slimy eels curling around my brain and sinking their teeth into its folds like needles. I couldn’t scream any longer, because I had nothing left: the chip was slowly beginning to take everything from me, robbing me of my identity and branding a new one into my psyche with a white-hot iron. Julie simply held me close, attempting to reassure me as I awaited the inevitable demise of my personhood. Soon I would be just like my brother: erased. My mind would be shaped into the mind of a loyal plaything, like a Dog.
##Relax. Allow caretaker [Julie] to comfort you. You will let go of your burden.##
Soon, everything was a blur. I quickly found myself resting my head in her lap as she whispered to me and fed me, my eyes bleary and my head fuzzy. I couldn't remember my name anymore My name was Bruno, and I needed to break free from this trance relax, and allow her to help me; good boys didn't resist help.
##Good Boy. Do not think. You are a good boy.##
You can't... I...
##Good boy.##
I wouldn't… good boys don't… I…
##Good boy##
I was a good boy… I was a good boy…
I was… I was… a good… boy…
Someone help me, please! I don't want to be erased!
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The following script is from episode #343 of Halcyon After Dark, a popular late-night and current events talk show hosted by Melinda Carter. This specific episode was sponsored in part by the Halcyon Security Division, with Director Lochlin O'Brien joining as a guest star to talk about the changing crime statistics in Halcyon City and the HSD's recent successes in busting organized crime as well as their plans for addressing the growing criminal underworld.
MC: Good evening Halcyon! I'm your host, Melinda Carter, and you're watching Halcyon's most popular late-night talk show, Halcyon After Dark!
The crowd claps and cheers as Melinda walks on stage and sits behind her desk, her glittering red dress waving as she does so from the special effects.
MC: Tonight we have a very special guest here to tell us about the state of crime in the city and his plans on resolving it: please put your hands together for the HSD's very own Director, Lochlin O'Brien!
The crowd cheers some more as HSD Director Lochlan O'Brien, a tall, muscular, caucasian male in his early forties with red hair and a well-trimmed beard steps into the room, waving at the crowd with a bright smile. He sits in the armchair angled next to Melinda's desk and gives her his full attention.
MC: It's so good to have you on the show, Director! Tell me, how are you doing on this fine evening?
LO: I'm doing excellent, Melinda: every day I wake up feeling fulfilled knowing I'm serving Halcyon to the best of my abilities and then some."
MC: That's the spirit, Director! Now, I know this question is just on everyone's lips, so I have to ask: how successful was the recent gang bust? I heard HSD forces took out dozens of gang members and liberated at least a dozen Russu Hounds from their abusive clutches, but I know that everyone in the audience and at home wants to know the numbers.
LO: I'd be glad to tell you, but I do have to preface this by saying that we still lost a lot of good officers that day, and while we did strike a crippling blow to one of Halcyon's biggest gangs, it doesn't change the fact that each death is a tragedy, and we're taking steps to prevent them in the future. That being said, those valiant officers did not sacrifice themselves in vain: we had over a dozen confirmed kills and several arrests, including the rescue of several corrupted Russu hounds.
MC: That's excellent, Director: proof that even when the number of degenerates and scum grow by the day, the HSD will always be here to keep the citizens of Halcyon safe.
LO: Absolutely, Melinda, and we're always working tirelessly to increase the efficiency and effectiveness of our units, as well as racing to stay several steps ahead of the many gangs of Halcyon at all times. My newest goal as Director is to vastly increase the funding given to our Robotics Department and our Neuro-Warfare Department to potentially reduce the number of casualties we may experience in the future, as well as to quickly and effectively detain, and if necessary, eliminate criminals. Within the next decade, I want to double the number of automated units each Security Platoon is assigned: droids are the future of public safety as well as countless other industries, and it would be foolish to be left behind.
MC: That is quite a lofty goal, Director: what about the displaced jobs from the increased automation? What will the union say?
LO: And to that, I say: what misplaced jobs? We aren't replacing our honored and beloved service members with droids, Melinda, we are simply supplementing our units with more droids to ensure that future gang assaults end with fewer HSD casualties and more gang members in prison or eliminated, simple as that.
MC: That makes much more sense, Director, thanks for clarifying. Now, I have one more question that I'm sure much of Halcyon wants to know the answer to before we take a short break: what plans do you and your fellow directors have to make long-term progress in reducing crime beyond just increasing funding? Have you proposed any plans to strike at the source of where crime and degeneracy flourish?
OL: That's an excellent question, and one I am proud to answer: my constituents and I have been working tirelessly on a two-step plan to greatly reduce crime levels in Halcyon. Step one would be to prevent people from becoming criminals and degenerates at all in the first place: a lot of young men and women, but especially young men, have lost either one or both parents or even a sibling, aunt or uncle, or even a close friend by the brutality of the Second Authority War, and while the service of their lost loved ones will always be recognized and honored, many of these young men and women are left bitter, angry and lost without the guidance these people give them in their lives. Oftentimes they seek to fill that void with others who claim to relate to them: career criminals. These criminals will fill their heads with lies and false narratives to make them feel like they're fighting back against the 'evil protectorate government' that took their loved ones from them by sending them off to war when in reality it was the rogue Xenopets of the Triarchy that took them away by resisting their just and inevitable unburdening.
In response, I have proposed a slew of special programs that will make sure local law enforcement and HSD officers are present and contributing to their local community, and we'll be providing easy and light job openings for youngsters and teens looking to make a career for themselves in the force when they grow up. We want to let these lost souls know that there are people who care about them, people who understand them and that you shouldn't turn to degeneracy to feel fulfilled. We want to help the youth of our great society soar to new heights!
MC: That sounds like a wonderful beginning to your plan, Director, but what about the second step?
LO: Well, the second step is to prevent criminals and degenerates from becoming repeat criminals. Sure, they've made their mistakes, some worse than others, but they're only human like the rest of us. Some of them have been through hell: some are traumatized veterans who don't know how to adapt to normal life, others were recruited when they were young and don't know that there's a better way to live, and even more are mentally ill. We're alone in this galaxy, and we can't leave so many people behind. That's why we've come up with an excellent solution: we've set up isolated communities on distant moons and frontier planets where these criminals can be reeducated, rehabilitated, and allowed to repay their debt to society. When they're deemed 'reformed' and have graduated from our program, they'll be granted a hefty stipend and their criminal record will be deemed irrelevant, allowing them to reintegrate and become functioning members of our proud society.
MC: all of these sound like incredible steps forward in the fight to better our society and make real progress, Director. Sadly, we do have to step away for a moment, but you best believe I'll be back, Halcyon, and we'll be asking the Director here some burning questions about allegations over the quality of life Erubus Supermax! Now, a word from our sponsors!
Halcyon Xenopet-Megaplex! Everything your xenopet could ever need in one place! Adoption is now free-
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Good, you’re still alive! The rest of this shard appears to be corrupted, which means this particular trail seems to have run cold here, but do not despair; you need to keep searching. Find out what happened. Find the truth.I cannot guide you any longer: they've already found me, and if I remain in contact with you they'll find you as well. Take the archival database, and see what you can piece together. Maybe if we discover what truly happened we can put an end to this madness once and for all. I'm counting on you. Don't cry for me, I don't fear death, but I fear what they'll do to me to get to you: there are far worse fates than death, after all.

Hey folks, after re-watching the gameplay overview I had some ideas I wanted to share.
Edit: I only wanted initially to share the first few ideas but I started rambling and decided to keep going lol, most of these are just throwing random ideas at the wall and I don't expect them to be implemented at all but thought it'd be fun to share them for the sake of discussion. Enjoy.
1: train station or bus stop - used to travel to different neighbourhoods or "Districts" it takes time to reach different districts so a Para will basically vanish for like an hour or more once they enter the train or bus before they emerge at another district.
2: Districts - Given our Paras will likely be living in a city, it makes sense there are different districts that offer different kinds of work. Jobs in these districts have different benefits and drawbacks like being higher paying but more stressful or offer benefits but can effect a Para's health. For example, a business district where corporate offices are, an industrial district or an agricultural district on the outskirts of the city.
3: benefits and drawbacks of location - we all want to live within a quick walking distance from work (or at least we want out Paras to do so) however I feel like there should be benefits and drawbacks for this in equal measure. For example. To live in the business district, rent/apartment prices are through the roof, so if your Para is a run of the mill office drone they're gonna need to commute, but an executive or CEO lives in their business district luxury apartment or even penthouse (either paying the high rent or as a perk of the job). The industrial district is cheap as dirt but rife with crime where Paras would be rightfully hesitant to go outside at night. The agricultural district isnt cheap but is affordable with wide open spaces and clean air allowing for Paras to farm, earning thrir own money but services available in the inner city aren't available there. So no ordering pizza for dinner and your Para better get some self-reliance skills cos the repair workers are days away, not minutes or hours and emergency services are hours away.
4: crime - crime irl isn't just break-ins in the dead of night, you might get a group of thieves breaking into your house in the middle of the day when your Para's vehicle isn't present so they think they're gone. They break in by either picking the door lock if you remembered to lock it or by throwing a rock through the window or glass door. As well as this you might get mugged while out at night, so investing in some pepper spray and security glass windows and doors (or if you can't afford that, multi-lock doors and barred windows) if you live in a bad part of town.
5: effects on Paras like drunkenness - your Para just got a promotion! Time to par-tay! Go out to the local bar, get sloshed, make a fool of yourself on the dance floor, make out with a stranger and stumble home in the early hours of the morning, your Para's inhibitions are gone meaning not only are there more interactions to have with other Paras and objects in the world (which, if they're not similarly sloshed won't appreciate it one bit) but your Paras become harder to control, if you give them a command but either it takes too long for them to get to the location of the command or something catches their eye they'll cancel it and do something else, making the stumble home an adventure in and of itself! But having another Para to lean on makes it a lot more manageable. However the next day brings the hangover, when they wake up all stats are reduced to 1 and they slowly get them back throughout the day to simulate a hangover. Coffee can speed this up. The embarrassment though? There's no quick and easy fix for that. Especially if your Para hooked up and must make the morning walk of shame.
6: police - Police should be more than just "show up and beat up the burglar" if an item was stolen you should be able to make a report, the longer the time between the item's theft reduces the % chance the police will be able to recover it, if you report it directly after it was taken and your Para saw the thief, you have a 90% chance to get it back, but if you left it for a day and didn't see the thief, it's 5%. Also if your neighbour is being a loud jerk blasting music all night when your Para needs to be at work in the morning, you could call in a noise complaint.
7: cardboard boxes at the start - during the gameplay reveal it showed a brand new Para with a bunch of boxes around their apartment, this got me thinking of how they could be utilised. I figured they could actually be sorta like semi-randomised low cost items to furnish your house with the only parameters being that they give you the basics you need to start a life like a bed, wardrobe, a table, a chair for each household Para, a fridge, oven, cabinet, toilet and shower + a few random items like a bookcase and a couple rugs. All very cheap variants, the logic being that these are all cheap second hand items that tend to be mismatched, encouraging players to do away with them as needed.
8: haunting - if Paras after death can haunt a place, let's not make then Sims ghosts but make the place of their remains generally "haunted" those with traits that don't make them immune to supernatural paranoia start getting, well, paranoid like they're constantly being watched, small items will occasionally fall off shelves and tables in the dead of night, random footsteps could be heard again in the dead of night, shadowy figures might appear and vanish in dark areas, closed doors could swing open etc... Paras who are effected by such things will need to pick up the urns of dead Paras and take them to a cemetery or contact an exorcist to drive the ghost from their house. Which, on that note....
9: Cemeteries - Cemetaries should start off as a largely empty lot save for the grave keeper's house/office, in-world reason being that this is a newly established cemetery as the old one is full. Loved ones aren't inturred simply by taking the urn out of the Para's inventory and putting them on the ground, instead the Para takes them to the grave keeper who for a fee will take them off the Para's hands and ask them when they'd like the funeral to be held. Post-funeral can include a wake which is like a party but loud music and alcohol are severely frowned upon and as long as such taboos aren't breached the party's rating (if there is such a thing) will by default be "it was OK, 5/10" and can be increased by offering food and drinks.
10: Schooling - we should be able to enroll toddlers into pre-school and there should be a way to get our kids into private or boarding school. Preschool gives your toddler basic social and logical skills as well as freeing up your adult Paras to go back to work and it's cheaper than a nanny. Private school, while expensive, gives your children both more skills and the friends they make are the children of bosses around the city, giving them a massive leg-up if they go to work for their friend's parent's company and giving your adult Paras a way to get to meet their children's friend's parents too which can likewise give them a big career boost too. Boarding school gives the highest skill gain in areas you select depending on the school you send them too and your Para's children's friends are the creme of the crop, the children of the most elite, if your Para is in business, their kid is rubbing shoulders with the children of the CEO and basically guarantees their career will shoot up at least a few levels almost immediately and before long they'll be on the board of directors. You know what they say, it's not what you know it's who you know. But remember, getting your kid into a private boarding school costs several hundred $$$ a day. You won't be able to afford it on a Barrista's salary.
11: A bad crowd - your Para might take on a... less civil path in life, a life of crime. Starting out as a petty thief or street thug, their life is one of high risk and high reward. This line of "work" isn't gained through a newspaper but through 2 ways. 1: you find the local crime boss and ask for a chance to prove yourself in which case they'll tell you to rough up or steal from a wealthy Para in town or 2: you make connections after being arrested while in prison. After you get out you may get a call from a fellow former inmate saying "hey I hear you know (inmate name) and he says you're a good guy, come down to (location) we may have work for you". The life of crime is one of high risk and high reward, the rich looking guy you shake down on his morning stroll might net you a few thousand in one go but you run the risk of getting pepper sprayed which effects you until you wash it out or getting arrested or even worse, of failing the boss. Ignoring or failing a task from the boss carries with it a heavy burden of risk, however you can become an informant and if you succeed in getting incriminating Intel on the boss and telling the police you may go into witness protection. What's that? You get put in a random new town with a new name, you keep your skills and money but your old connections, your job, your most prized possessions etc... are all gone.
12: job qualifications - as my irl uncle says "get them Quals, son!" The jobs you can get with no qualifications to your name are typically low paying, low demand jobs with not much room for advancement and after all expenses are taken care of, not a great amount left for spending. You might get higher pay for working night shift but that's not where the real money is to be found, for that you need qualifications for jobs with the potential to advance and make something of yourself! For this you need to go to either community college or college/university. While community college would give you the qualifications and skills needed for higher paying jobs with less stress like as a tradesman or being able to start your own business (doing so is not expected at launch), college/university opens the door to the high life of extremely high paying jobs (starting at the ground level) from business CEOs to jobs in media and more. While I have zero expectation of these things being implemented on launch, they could be off-map sites or rabbit holes until then.
13: story progression - last and certainly far from least, I wanna see the world grow and change around my Para, for other Paras to at least give the illusion that they're living their own lives separate from my household's, I want my para's friends and neighbours to be having kids, getting promotions or switching jobs, for some of my Para's childhood friends to wind up in prison or making bank or being the chef at their favorite restaurant. The last thing we want to see is a stagnant neighbourhood where a Para's best friend when they were a child becomes their grandchild's best friend without them aging a day.
Phew, that's about it, what do you guys think?