Hello all, this is a discussion/guide hybrid on the High Ground perk!
With all the recent talk about High Ground, I wanted to jump in and give a small breakdown of the way my mind was super optimistic when this perk was announced, but very quickly found it lacking on paper and in-game.
Apologies if I got any numbers wrong!
NOTE: There are going to be a few minor discrepancies between my numbers, light.gg and future buffs/current patch note numbers. Some of these updates haven't gone into light.gg yet (or there 'future' data), and I'm not bothered enough to go searching through TWIDs and stuff to find them.
I personally think that High Ground's only real saving grace is how easy it will be to keep activated once the perk is procc'ed, unfortunately, that's about all that's useful with it at the moment. It has a tough time getting initially activated and feels much more like an ad clear weapon rather than perk for heavy weapons in DPS.
This is not at all an extensive list, and only looks to compare the use of High Ground with other damage perks in LFRs, with a focus on Pantheon and endgame activities.

PERKS

Usable DPS options (my opinion here) for weapon perks - with a focus on linear fusion rifles - are, in not particular order: Deconstruct, Target Lock, Frenzy, Firing Line, Bait and Switch, Vorpal Weapon, Recombination, One for All, Surrounded, Focused Fury, and of course, High Ground.
High Ground - When 1 meter above enemy, 25% DMG increase (enhanced adds 5 reload speed). There's also some concern in other reddit posts that your feet must be touching the ground for this to proc, not sure if this is true.
Deconstruct - When dealing sustained damage, grant 40% DMG increase + 10% mag refill from thin air. Only works against constructs and vehicles.
Firing Line - When near allies, deal 25% P-DMG increase (enhanced adds 10 weapon readiness). Requires allies.
Target Lock - When firing on target, increase DMG, up to around 28.13% DMG increase at 100% magazine expenditure (enhanced increases DMG boost to around 40%). These stats are according to light.gg, though unfortunately they do not match basic stats show in shatteredvault. Unsure what true numbers are, or if any recent buffs/nerfs effect possible 'old' numbers online.
Frenzy - When in combat for 10+ seconds, 15% DMG increase + 100 handling +100 reload speed for 7.2 seconds (enhanced may not be currently working according to light.gg).
Bait and Switch - When dealing damage with all three weapons within 7 seconds of each other, 30% DMG increase for 11 seconds (enhanced adds 1 second to buff length).
Vorpal Weapon - Increased miniboss, boss, vehicle, and player-in-super damage. Primary weapons +20% DMG increase, special weapons +15% DMG increase, and heavy weapons +10% DMG increase (enhanced adds 5 stability or guard resistance for swords).
Recombination - Elemental skills add a stack, up to 8, with each stack additively increasing damage of the recombination weapon by 12.5%, up to 100% maximum at 8 stacks (enhanced makes stacks for maximum damage cap at 6 instead of 8).
One for All - When hitting 3 separate enemies with weapon, within 3 seconds of each shot, 35% DMG increase for 11 seconds (enhanced increases duration to 12 seconds). Buff cannot be refreshed. Slow and relatively cumbersome to activate, especially with certain heavy weapons like linears.
Surrounded - When within 8 meters of 3 enemies, 47% DMG increase that lingers for 1.5 seconds after no longer surrounded (enhanced increases by further 5%, though typo in light.gg may mean this enhanced total is actually 47% while the normal total is a bit lower than 5% under at 40% DMG increase). Hard perk to proc in many encounters.
Focused Fury - When 50% of base magazine size is registered as precision hits, 20% DMG increase for 12 seconds (enhanced increases duration to 13 seconds). Stowing or reloading resets the precision hit counter, buff remains active while weapon is stowed.
The perk with the greatest flat damage increase is Surrounded (+47%), followed closely by Deconstruct (+40% and very situational), Target Lock (+40%), and One For All (+35%).
Clearly, however, the crowd favorite is the tried-and-true, quite easily activated, +30% DMG increase from Bait and Switch.

WEAPONS

These are the legendary Linear Fusion Rifles currently available in light.gg's database: Briar's Contempt, Cataclysmic, Corsair's Wrath, Doomed Petitioner, Fire and Forget, Laser Painter, Reed's Regret, Sailspy Pitchglass, Stormchaser, Taipan-4fr, Tarantula, and Threaded Needle.
Briar's Contempt, solar - Focused Fury (20% DMG), Surrounded (+47% DMG), and Frenzy (+15% DMG) = Surrounded best, followed by Focused Fury.
Cataclysmic, solar - Focused Fury (20% DMG) and Bait and Switch (30% DMG) = Bait and Switch best.
Corsair's Wrath, solar - don't use this as it currently is.
Fire and Forget, stasis - Vorpal (10% DMG), Chill Clip*, Focused Fury (20% DMG), and Frenzy (15% DMG) = Focused Fury likely best, followed by Frenzy. Chill Clip buffs make this an interesting choice heading into Final Shape.
Reed's Regret, stasis - Vorpal (10% DMG), Firing Line (25% P-DMG), Headstone*, Focused Fury (20% DMG) = Firing Line followed by Focused Fury. Is there a way to make Headstone good here? Probably not for DPS, thought it was interesting to note for a heavy LFR.
Laser Painter, strand - Vorpal (10% DMG), and Focused Fury (?)(20% DMG) = Focused Fury, I suppose.
Sailspy Pitchglass, arc - Frenzy (15% DMG), Vorpal (10% DMG), Focused Fury (20% DMG), Voltshot* = Focused Fury and Frenzy are kind of tied here for me, comes down to how much you value the extra 5% from FF compared to 100 handling and reload speed from Frenzy. Voltshot was a funny perk in my head for a LFR, please don't take it for DPS.
Stormchaser, arc - Frenzy (15% DMG), Vorpal (10% DMG), and Firing Line (25% P-DMG) = Firing Line woo! Frenzy is also a great grab if you're running lowman or solo content.
Tarantula, arc - nah.
Doomed Petitioner, void - Precision Instrument (30% DMG), High Ground (25% DMG), Deconstruct (40% DMG), and Surrounded (47%) = Precision Instrument for me, with a tie between other three depending on encounter.
Taipan-4fr, void - Firing Line (25% P-DMG), Frenzy (15% DMG), Focused Fury (20%DMG) = Firing Line first, then either FF or Frenzy depending on encountesolo content.
Threaded Needle, void - Frenzy (15% DMG) or Vorpal (10% DMG). Frenzy is the way to go here.

PANTHEON+PERKS

In all, there are arguably better Linear Fusion Rifles to run over Doomed Petitioner should subclass not be an issue. Doomed Petitioner is perhaps the best void LFR. Whisper of the Worm (if you're not married to void, LFRs, and have the free exotic) is a better choice, and even then Leviathan's with catalyst is an incredible choice as well.
The biggest downside to Doomed Petitioner, and in turn High Ground - especially in regards to Pantheon, is its use case across encounters.
1: Golgoroth - DPS is done within the buffing bubbles on ground level below the boss.
2: Caretaker - Most of the DPS points are either below the boss or at level. The best case is floor 2 (assuming you're not hitting third floor) where you're about level with the bosses center of mass, though by no serious definition are you above the boss here.
3: Planets - DPS is generally done from ground floor, at level with boss. Sure you could probably proc High Ground off of a pillar or something else here, but if you're feet must be touching a surface, High Ground's use here is terrible given the amount of movement needed throughout DPS.
4: Atraks - Please don't use Linears here, please.
5: Oryx - This is similar to planets, though with less movement. If the "above the boss" requirement is only on where the damage point is, standing on one of the center bookshelves might be high enough. Otherwise, yeah, Oryx is a big mofo.
6: Rhulk - Same issue with height, no where to stand, and too much needed movement throughout boss DPS phase.
7: Riven - There aren't too many good places to stand here that could be considered above Riven during DPS. If the game counts it as highest damagable point of the boss, we're shit out of luck as that point it higher than even her eyes.
8: Nezarec - Again, the greatest limiter here are places to stand that are higher than the boss. If everyone running High Ground and Linears here, maybe standing up where Nez spawns could work, but then again, why aren't we just using Rockets or GL's here instead on Nez?

DUNGEONS

High Ground is a very exciting perk, but in it's current state within Pantheon, I unfortunately believe it isn't going to be much help. Even in most normal-level encounters in raids and dungeons it doesn't come in handy.
Warlord's Ruin - Maybe in final boss there's room to get somewhat higher than the ghost Ahamkara, but, eh.
Ghosts of the Deep - Hard to proc outside of high point in final boss room.
Spire of the Watcher - Again hard to proc except MAYBE in final boss room?
Duality - No real linear use here.
Grasp - Maybe final boss and maybe ogre.
Prophecy - Maybe final boss on top of the pillars on some of the platforms? Good room to use it, height wise at least, in cube-boss and first boss.
Pit of Heresy - Yeah no, nowhere here is this good I think.
Shattered Throne - Again, no real boss fights where height is ample and linear's work well.
If you find a weapon or build that High Ground works well with, please let me know, I'd love to utilize it! Also do fill me in on if there's any confirmation on High Ground working mid-air while not standing on a surface. Thanks, and hope this helps!

Erik listened as Morna’s footsteps gave a backing beat to the rhythmic busywork of the ship. She was pacing, her shoulders hunched, pointedly not looking over Shieldbreaker’s side, averting her eyes from the retreating silhouettes of Lady Alannys and Unwelcome Guest, and the Lute and Harp flotillas in their wake.
No matter what task they busied themselves with, the ship’s crew parted to allow Morna her passage back and forth. She stopped just in front of Erik at the stern, turned on one heel and marched back to Kiera at the bow. She probably felt cramped on the ship. Erik remembered how she had walked the walls of Lordsport on the day Sigorn was injured, her relentless pace only hitching momentarily in front of the maester’s door on each cycle.
Soon she returned to him again, both eyes on the deck, though only one saw it.
“Do you want to sit down?” he asked her as she swivelled, not particularly expecting a response.
“No,” she said, and stopped. It seemed to take some effort to look back at him. “I want to hit something,” she explained. Now that she was still, hands clenched into fists, she stood out amidst the rolling motion of the oarsmen to either side.
“Once we get cruising, we can spar, if that would help?”
Morna hesitated. “I want to break something,” she clarified.
“I don’t think I can help there.”
Morna waved a hand in a way that meant she’d get over it. When she resumed her pacing, Erik followed her to the midpoint of the ship, retrieving his fiddle from the hold. He met both his wives at the bow, and brought the instrument to his chin.
Drawing the bow across the strings, he pushed a few bars of an old and nameless tune, rising notes wishing good fortune across the waves.
Morna relaxed as the answering verses whispered back to them, leaning her scarred forehead against Kiera’s shoulder. After a few moments, she straightened, pushing her hair back from her eyes.
“I’m alright,” she insisted, flexing her hands, “I just hate when I can’t do anything.”
Neither Erik nor Kiera responded. There was no need. They understood.
Three days after the fleets separated, the winds turned on them. The tips of dark clouds on the horizon spoke of a storm that Shieldbreaker and the Fiddle flotilla were only feeling the echoes of, but it was a complete headwind all the same. Everyone aboard knew what it meant, but they groaned all the same when the nausea, the strain, the third thing began.
Erik kept his focus on the fervent activity on the deck, oarsmen keeping balance, two-men teams on the spar lines, Erik’s own hands on the rudder. Hours into the nauseating back-and forth, he found his focus drifting. He called Osfryd over to take the rudder for the upcoming portside turn.
Kiera had abandoned her perch on the bow that morning, and spent the whole day with her back against the mast, rubbing her forehead, eyes closing every time the creaking sail beam swivelled over her head.
He went to the canopy at the mast, and gently pressed a kiss to Kiera’s forehead. She looked up at him, smiling apologetically.
“The creaking makes my head ache,” she said, by way of an explanation. Erik just leaned on the mast beside her, and held her hand down by his side. They watched their other wife for a time. Morna was at the windward side of the ship as it turned, helping some of the crew scrape clinging seaweed from the hull, exposed from the waterline by Shieldbreaker’s dramatic tilt.
“She’s going to heave if she keeps going like that,” Kiera commented. Erik murmured an agreement, watching the seasick stagger that was starting to come into Morna’s movements.
“You know what she’s like,” Erik said. “You and Asha grew up sailing, she thinks she has to prove herself.”
Kiera scoffed, though there was a smile hidden in her offended scowl. “Asha barely sailed.”
Erik conceded that with a shrug. “She’s Ironborn, though.”
Kiera nodded, then squeezed her eyes shut as the ship began tilting to port, the spar over their head groaning as it scraped against the mast. She had always been Erik’s softest wife. Even as the shipborne bastard of a Tyroshi merchant, her youth had been filled with more comforts than a wildling huntress or daughter of a tiny Ironborn house were ever afforded.
The deck shifted beneath them, and the hull-scrapers abandoned their posts to move to the other side. Morna passed through the cabin, teeth bared even more than her scars usually made them as she tried to breathe through the nausea.
“Fuck this,” she said conversationally, and accepted Kiera’s kiss to her scarred cheek.
“You don’t need to work yourself to the point of illness, darling,” Erik said, but she shrugged the comment off like he knew she would.
“You can help any time,” she pointed out, not unfairly.
“I’ll be over in a moment.”
Kiera shook her head. “Iemnȳ ēdrulio glaesas, dōnītsosi. I read charts and look pretty. You strong people can do the actual work.”
The storm’s wake had passed by the next day, and Erik allowed his exhausted crew a morning’s rest. The bed of sand and the cookfire were back out on the stern, Theomore frying fillets he had cut from the fish other men had pulled from the sea in the days before.
As lord and captain, Erik had the benefit of first serving, sitting with his wives under the canopy at the ship’s centre, a well-done piece of cod speared on the knife that had avenged his father.
“You’re still a kneeler, as much as the rest of them,” Morna was saying, waving a fishbone insistently. Kiera’s lips twitched into a smile at the familiar argument.
“Look, the Archon is chosen-”
“By the people with gold,” Morna interrupted.
“Yes, but you told me the Kings-Beyond-The-Wall were chosen by clan chiefs-”
“That’s not the same.”
“I’m still not sure I’m a kneeler,” Erik interjected, smiling at how Morna's face twisted into mock outrage.
“Lord Botley, I do love you, but you’re the most kneelerish person I can put up with. We’d be up raiding Bear Island, or whatsitcalled, the lion city, Lannister-port or something, if you weren’t a kneeler.”
“Those people never did anything to us,” Erik tried.
Morna pointed, catching the error. “And what did this Volantis do to us?”
“Enslaved my mother,” Kiera pointed out. Morna eyed her, making sure her wife was still in the mood for play, before she pressed on.
“Fine, what did we do, then? Why raid the Frozen Shore?”
“Well you did-” Erik caught himself before he said “raid the North.” Morna eyed him, teasing curiosity raising her mismatched eyebrows.
“You got me,” he smiled, taking another bite of cod. “I only go raiding where I can find beautiful women.”
Morna grinned at the flattery and opened her mouth to respond, but was cut off by Kiera tutting in mock-outrage.
“I’m sorry, dōnītsos, but why are we stopping peacefully in Tyrosh, in that case?”
“I’ve met your father,” Erik reasoned. “Your looks come from your mother’s homeland.”
That broke the momentum of the debate as Morna barked a laugh and Kiera tried to hold one in, pinching the bridge of her nose. Erik chuckled, and managed not to flinch when the sailor called for him.
“Milord!”
Erik turned. Osfryd, leaning against the prow, hair flickering in the wind, pointed over his shoulder to the horizon before them all.
“Ship rising!” he called, by way of explanation.
Kiera was on her feet first, stepping lightly between the myriad of chatting crewmembers that Erik was surprised to see surrounding him and his wives. She reached the bow and climbed it deftly, hooking a foot in the lantern-ring as she often did. Erik and Morna followed more slowly.
“Merchant, by the shape,” Kiera said as they approached. Erik followed her gaze to the tall, barrel-hulled carrack coming over the horizon, half-silhouetted by the low morning sun. He could just make out a pennant fluttering at the tip of the tallest mast.
“Can you make out the flag?” Erik asked.
Kiera took a moment before answering, “Myrish, I think. They’re keeping dead on. You’d think they’d try to get around us, no?”
“Quicker to go through, I suppose,” Erik suggested. “Plus, they’re likely unsure how wide a fleet we have, or if we even want to attack.”
“Do we want to attack?” Morna asked.
The question drew the attention of several crewmembers, who quickly turned to listen to Erik’s answer.
Playing for time, Erik looked out at the ship again. The thought of battle made his blood tingle, but he was wary. Shallow-drafted longships like theirs were ideal for a shoreline assault, but much less suited for warfare at sea. There was a reason that the Royal Fleet consisted of dromonds and other tall ships. Attack even one Myrish trader and dozens would sink to the Drowned God’s halls. Pointless, unless there was some real reason to take that risk.
“Slavers?” Erik asked.
Kiera shook her head. “They’re heading to Dorne or the Stormlands, they know they can’t sell them there.”
“Then no.” Some men around him looked disappointed, others relieved. Erik reckoned he could guess how long each man had been sailing by that reaction.
“We’ll save our strength for a greater bounty, further East,” Erik said, his voice shifting to a commanding baritone. “To oars, men! Give them space to pass! I’ll not have them loose arrows on us for some misunderstanding.”
The knot of listeners loosened and fell away, dipping oars to water and pushing Shieldbreaker further out of the Myrish vessel’s path. The ship loomed as it came closer, and Erik saw men with crossbows take positions on the upper gunwale. A blue-haired, green-bearded man, the captain by his stance, stood at the prow and looked out at the passing fleet with suspicious eyes.
Kiera cupped her hands around her mouth and called, her voice clear and carrying as a flute, “Jemī ōdrikagon indī daor!”
We mean you no harm. It was one of the few phrases Kiera had insisted Erik learn. It got the captain’s attention, his eyes flicking across the ship until he found the speaker.
“Jaehor ojehiknon irughas!” he responded, his stance softening. The crossbowmen followed his lead. Not all of them lowered their weapons, but enough did that Erik relaxed. The captain followed with a sentence that included skoriot – where? Asking where they were from.
Erik saw Kiera give her best smile, and she gestured to the fish-covered green pennant on Shieldbreaker’s mast. “Āegenka Āja. Mȳro iksāt, kessa?”
The captain seemed to hesitate a little at her response, though Erik would have assumed that their hailing from the Iron Islands – for he recognised Āegenka Āja – was obvious from their ships. Their vessels were almost level now, and Erik could now read the curiosity in the man’s smile. He finally called, “Hen mirto Āegenka Ājor, Valyrīhos sȳrī ȳdrā!”
Kiera’s smile faltered at that, but seemed to renew with some quiet pride. “Īlōnda quptyri issa daor!”
The captain barked a laugh, and the reaction was echoed by a few chuckles among the crossbowmen. Erik couldn’t understand the joke, but laughed along anyway. Kiera leaned over to her husband.
“They are from Myr,” she confirmed. “I don’t think they’re interested in a fight.”
“Good,” Erik said. “Ask where they’re going.”
Kiera returned her attention to the passing ship. “Skoriot īlāt?” she called.
The captain pointed westward, presumably indicating his destination.
“Jelmāzmari Mōrio!”
Erik recognized the name of Storm’s End, but the rest of the man’s sentence was lost in a flurry of unfamiliar syllables. The captain rubbed thumb and forefinger together, so he gathered that he was speaking of trade with the Stormlanders.
The ship was passing them now, Shieldbreaker swaying as it was buffeted in its wake.
“Biarver aōt!” Kiera called. The man’s response was lost in the wind, but his smile told Erik that it had been some kind farewell. He watched the retreating galley with contentment. It was always good to meet a kindred spirit on the high seas.
The cawing of seagulls was the first sign they were approaching land. Always a light sleeper, Erik’s eyes shot open at the sound. Morna’s arm was still draped over his chest, her eyes closed and shallow breaths peaceful with sleep. Erik was careful as he wriggled out from beneath her, stood and stepped over her and Kiera, who had her face pressed into the nape of Morna’s neck.
Most of the rest of the crew were asleep as well, wrapped in thin blankets between the rowing benches. Three men were talking quietly to one another in the shadows to starboard, while six others played cards in the light of the new bow lantern. Back at the stern, Erik found Mathos posted at the rudder.
“Milord,” Mathos said, by way of greeting. He kept his voice low, and Erik followed suit.
“Mathos. No trouble in the night?”
“None, milord. Wind was steady, we’re dead on for the Bloodstone strait. Mind you, those smoke trails have me wondering, milord.”
Erik’s eyebrows asked his question for him, and Mathos just pointed past him, out towards the bow and the sea and the deep, dark shape of the island on the horizon, blocking the spill of starlight beyond it. Then, as his eyes adjusted to the sight, he saw them – thin, curling lines of smoke rising over the island. Five of them, tightly packed together, shining silver in the light.
Erik shrugged. They disquieted him, as well, but he voiced the most obvious objection to his worry all the same. “Bloodstone isn’t entirely uninhabited. It’s probably just a fishing village.”
Mathos gave a sort of half shrug. He obviously didn’t want to contradict his captain, but he pressed on anyway.
“Perhaps, milord, but who’s staying up to tend the fires this late? Sunrise is barely an hour away, by my reckoning. I can’t think of many reasons folk’d’ve fires kept so late.”
“Watchtowers?”
“It’s just a guess milord, but aye. What’re they keeping watch for, I wonder?”
Erik kept his eyes on the smoke, though his attention was focused inward. There was some fear there, and a hesitant surprise. Excitement boiled in his chest, but it had a core that Erik took a moment to identify. Satisfaction. Here was proof that he would not return to Lordsport unsated, that he would find more of what he sought most, as he had found first in Starfall.
The unexpected.

This is my dog, Joy. I'm hoping someone might help remove the leash, including the connecting carabiner clip (the harness is fine). Not necessary, but it might also be nice to remove that black crater on the lower left of the wall. I appreciate it and am happy to tip the best one. Couldn't embed for some reason but here's the pic:
https://imgur.com/a/qE93Gz3
Some backstory in case anyone's curious:
Jojo was rescued by the Humane Society International from a dog meat farm in South Korea in 2015. Having spent her first 10 months in a cage, she was practically feral when I adopted her and would buck and thrash if taken on a walk.
Joy blossomed into a wonderful companion; caring for her has been one of the most meaningful privileged of my life. It's a long tale, but we've had a bruising 3 months due to a series of health ramifications. After a lot of effort (and thousands of dollars), we've got her in a good place except for an antibiotic-resistant bacteria on her neck (think doggie MRSA). Without many options left, we gave her one of the few antibiotics that could combat this specific bug. On her vet's advice, we extended a 10-day course to 20 days as a precaution - and it worked.
Sadly, signs of infection have returned. Her vet can't see us until Tuesday but we're feeling anxious and sad while we wait for the appointent. Based on prior discussions, we're aware that there may be no way to help Joy at this point.
With the looming uncertainty, I feel waves of anticipatory grief and it's sometimes hard to keep my eyes from watering. Joy is turning 10 next Thursday, the 23rd, and I worry that it may be her last birthday. Be that as it may, I'm trying to cherish every day I have with her. We took her for a stroll at a local college campus yesterday and it was such a memorable and transformative experience. Jojo was thrilled at every step. The campus has so many squirrels about that it was like we had taken her to doggie Disneyland; she frantically hopped about while we admired the sculptures and flowers. The fog of everyone's sorrow lifted; I haven't seen her so deliriously happy in years.
Anyway, we took this photo of her on the campus as a memento of the great time we spent. It may seem silly, but I'd like to remove the leash and send out the photo to all the humans who adore Joy on her 10th birthday with a message to mark the day. Thanks so much for your kind assistance.

--⧼ BEGIN Broadcast Message ⧽--
::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::
Priority Level: Urgent
:: From ::
Center Arm of the Emperor, Planet Laran
:: To ::
All Survivors of Fellow Royal Cast Broods
:: Message ::
The Emperor has graciously permitted the use of his Excellency's summer home on Planet Laran, located in the Empire's Center Arm, as a temporary refuge during the unprecedented violent Terran offences against His Holiness and the holiness of the Omni-brood of Ix.
:: Attachments ::
Coordinates and Flight Key
:: Royal Cryptographic Signature ::
Lord La'Ix, The Emperor's Right-Center Arm
::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::
--⧼ END Broadcast Message ⧽--

earlier

"CURSE THEM! The great houses are going to have my bloody head for this! There is no way this should've happened and under my command too! The Golden Emperor's own exotic holiday world has gone to ash and the only one to blame is going to be me. Well it was basically my watch anyways. Curse. Them. All"
Those were the only legible sounds one could hear among the frantic stamping of one particular Ixian lord as he hurried away through the underbrush of the royal reserve just outside the centre palace. The same Ixian lord that, only hours earlier, was delighting in his typical cooked boar while enjoying his evening's entertainment of a young Terran girl running for her life from a loose Laran tiger. Something about the way those bipeds run always makes him laugh. Some similarly caste Ixian would call this form of entertainment childish, lowbrow, and immature. He would tend to agree. But sometimes he just wanted cheap slapstick humour. The day to day life of the royal caste tends to get dull with all the fine arts an Ixian of his caste is meant to enjoy.
"How did it all go to shit!?! I was always attentive, and there hasn't been an uprising since those terrans were tamed for the palace. I mean we mostly neuter the problematic ones anyways, so why all the sudden aggression?", he shouted in agitation at the emptiness in front of him.
Speeding through the royal garden which in actuality is a repurposed Savannah of the island the palace is on. The Ixian was a beast of speed. Perfectly honed and trained over decades, and genetically maintained over eons, he always proudly held that he was the fasted in his brood of 16. Making a name for himself among the other broodkin for being the most genetically suited for the rank of high general (not that there was any need for generals, there hasn't been need for war in so long). Of course the Ixians always pride themselves in having no excess potential, and adapting your environment to suit your biology, but it never hurts to have perfect biology. That's the true pride of an Ixian.
That innate need to change the universe rather than changing themselves is what led to their vast interstellar empire. One that reached from constellation to constellation and then eventually to the arms of entire galaxies, terraforming worlds to the same environment they were already adapted to. Since forcing nature into one's bidding was the most sacred duty of any that shared a lick of Ix biology.
Which was why the Ix was confident in themselves. This Ixian in particular surely felt surprised, but mainly he was only moderately upset at the sudden change of situation, from being comfortable in the royal dining hall to sudden exercise.
"Everything can be changed back. Everything can be changed back." It repeated the mantra to itself. As it began to relax and turn its snarled sharp mouth into a toothy grin.
"Yes, there is nothing to worry about at all. Then let's make a game plan. Just need to make it to the space port at the harbour. Grab a ride out and find someone else to take the fall. That old royal butler is as ancient as the dirt of the broodworld. Hell, he probably was there when it vanished in the shadow of the holy empire's long past." chuckling to himself at the quite witty remark, but saddened that no one else was there to hear it.
Should be realistic enough for the others to believe. But first things first, I need to reach the harbour-master. It thought while its dense muscles powered the beastly lizard-like form on its journey, as it bound in the direction of its destination at top speed on all fours.
The blood red sun was already kissing the horizon by the time the Ixian went to nearly collapse under exhaustion of the extended sprint. He hasn't ran this far and fast than when he a young broodling that won competitions and competitions in the royal sports. I think I might have overdid it. He thought while massaging the oncoming threat of a sneaky cramp in his hind leg.
The Ixian were well known for speed. But their stamina was another thing. There bodies simply didn't have the evolved features for long distance travel. There was never truly any need in the past, as their very steady and controlled climate and sparsely diverse ecosystem on Ix never truly required much challenge.
It turned its panting head to face the way it came, gazing proudly at the great distance it made in such a short while.
But something was off by that view. Something different to what he was expecting. The view itself was mostly fine. Well, as fine as a smoking mark in the distance, presumably from the summer palace being engulfed in flame and spitting great plumes of black smoke. But no, something about this view chilled him to this spine. Craning his neck from his vantage point he could swear there was a small speck in the distance.
What on great Ix is that?
All of a sudden realisation hit like a rock on a peaceful pond. Something was following him. Something unknown and cold was making its way to his location. He was certain it wasn't any of his guards, all guards permitted to serve under the royal summer home were Ixian of course. Physically bred for their strength and speed, and placed into roles of importance like protecting the higher caste such as himself. (Whereas this day being the only exception). It did look like he was the only Ixian that actually made it out of the palace so far. Ixians are able to cover short distances in phenomenal speed, akin to a scaly 4 legged beast of the hunt.
No this was something else.
Feeling a very small panic build up inside, but veiling that cold, unwanted terror as impatience at how far he still needs to travel yet. Lord La'Ix flexed his anterior legs and sped on leaving behind a red-yellow cloud of dust in his wake.
He frowned. Feeling strange at a never before felt sensation. Like something in the back of his perfectly designed brain was screaming a silent, but terrifyingly familiar warning.
"Ix itself is an ancient world. Temperate in climate, while abundant in vegetation and small game. It is unknown how the Ixian was formed on paradise.
The old priest can drum into your heads that I'Ix made us into being by indenting his form in the sand of the first beach and filling the shape with his life. Moulding us into being.
The heretic would counter and say we evolved from a previous species akin to ourselves over the course of untold lengths of time.
The philosopher would suggest that only on paradise would the sentient universe fill in the space for the perfect beings to enjoy the fruits of existence.
Lastly, even the lowest caste Ixian would point and laugh at the rest and say 'why talk about antiquity, when we can make more paradise to fill the heavens'."
-A popular Ixian parable
Lord La'Ix bolted up all of a sudden from his resting spot. Heart suddenly beating frantically. The stars had barely enough time to shift positions when last rested his weary body, only a couple hours must have passed since dusk fell and the world plunged into night.
The silence of the Savannah made sound from afar travel better. Aside from the quiet rustling of the wind he wasn't so sure what he heard. Assuming his bored ears were playing tricks on him.
Calming down, curling up on the flat cool rock he found he started to drift to the shadowless lands where all Ixian go when they dream...
Drums, no, not drums. Some sort of mechanical tool? Not that I ever heard of a tool that just beat the ground senseless. A strange beating sound could be heard, pounding into the ground. As he stayed frozen and very awake, he could have sworn it was getting louder. Closer.
CRACK. SNAP. CRACK.
Suddenly the entire valley echoed the sounds of a few broken sticks.
La'Ix jumped up, whirling around, and came to face something approaching fast that could only be described as a cold predator, not that there were any predators on the homeworld's recorded history. But every cell in his aching body reacted the same. DANGER, DANGER, RUN, RUN.
The silver light of the planet's 3 moons barely lit the valley but what that light bounced off of was a figure in motion. Front Legs pumping up and down, nostrils flaring, eyes too close together, and pupils so large it was like staring at darkness itself.
Hold on there are only 2 legs right? Sudden familiarity hit him hard, memories of last night's entertainment stained his mind. In the name of Ix is that a Terran?!?
La'Ix didn't realise it then, but it was looking at a Terran, despite the Terrans characteristics looking different to the standard slave he was used to seeing. The pumping body of the runner was made for such long distances. Sweat acting as a cooling mechanism, making the man glisten in the harsh moonlight, the enlarged nostrils taking in all the air the body needs for this type of strenuous activity. And the enlarged pupils, made for adjusting to low light environments.
Down on the plains of the Savannah were two creatures. One a perfect evolutionary miracle, practically evolution's first try gone right, Perfectly made for its environment and was never truly exposed to varying climates and environments. And the other, having crawled through the primordial ooze, and struggled and fought its way through dangers, diseases, and competition on its own horrifying world. Where deadly heat in deserts can dry out any living thing, and such freezing poles that can turn anything that enters it in pure ice.
The man's lean and sweat-slicken form was steadily making its way towards the frozen statue of La'Ix. Just as he got within 50 paces did La'Ix sprint away scattering pebbles in its path the echoes of which bounced back from the valley's sharp walls. Undeterred, the chaser kept steadily running. Jaws grit. Eyes locked on afar.
And afar was its prey. Sprinting away.
HOW IN IX'S NAME DID THAT THING KNOW WHERE I AM? The La'Ix in a fit of sudden excitement mixed with a heavy dose of panic, began its high octane sprint from the sudden looming threat of being found. Hind Legs propelling the creature's body forward, while its front arms, which were historically also for four legged locomotion, pulled the terrain closer with each stride. Increasing its momentum until it reached max speed.
"Broodling La'Ix!" said a stern but educated voice.
"Huh? Oh! Yessir!" a young Ix jumped to attention still thinking about more enjoyable things specifically outside of the classroom walls.
"Well? Can you please answer my question or will you make your other broodkin wait until Ix falls to ash first", the tutor said expectantly, prompting several muffles giggles in the room.
"Sorry sir. What makes the Ixian race its place in eternity is the attention we put in perfection. After our home-world of Ix's climate and terrain began to change, the leaders from antiquity decreed we carry on the spirit of the home-world in maintaining a consistent biological and genetic profile that will always be suited to Ix's surface. As we change worlds to be more like Ix, we can spread the spirit of Ix to them. As such, Change is- uh, change is..."
"Change is the poison of perfection, Remaining unchanged for Ix enable us to carry its spirit to other planets in the heavens", continued the tutor. "Well you certainly paid some attention to today's lesson at the very least. But remember that final part. It's the last of the core tenants you will need to remember."
"Yessir!"
A good half night passed on the surface of the Savanna. Where a previously noble and alert Ixian who took great care in appearances and status was no longer to be seen. Instead of that proud domineering alien representative of ix was a dishevelled, dusty, ragged creature, dehydrated, hungry, and exhausted from the various sprints it forced itself to endure to stay ahead of fate's ever closing hand.
Is this the sword of Damocles that was mentioned in the ancient Terran records? Always hanging down on those who hold power and seek more? Fate's sharp blade? But why me? I was never in any real power. All I wanted out of this life was a comfortable posting with no dirt and grime from the lower worlds. Why me? Why now? Why do I-
La'Ix snapped himself out of a daze. Is he here- No, no I should be far far away from that Terran now. Maybe I can find some-
A dim glow interrupted its train of thought. Much too early to be the Sunrise on the Emperor's summer planet, and much to low to be the light from one of it's 2 moons. It was a light from a town.
"That's right!" The Ixian barely managed to rasp in between haggard breaths. Its body barely able to continue the amount of self inflicted abuse it has suddenly been put in.
A lot more hunched over than the Ixian was earlier. It made its way towards a small town it knew was in between the palace and the harbour. The emperor loved his royal rustic towns and villages. It is said that his royal emperor would sometimes tour around them marvelling at the romantic theme of a simple rustic life. Although getting a personal town full of Ixians required a lot of lower caste be forced into long and expensive work contracts as background entertainers for the king's planet, all this excessive show of wealth was partially for peackocking the emperor's reputation, and partially for his own personal enjoyment. The Emperor is almost culturally required to flaunt his royal wealth in all forms in order to keep connections with all the royal houses. An emperor that doesn't shower their supporting aides and houses with grand gifts is fated to eventually be found cold on the floor of the royal banquet due to 'suicide from accidentally ingesting poison', as was the previous emperor.
To avoid such an unfortunate passing, the Higher Royals would trade vast resources, delicacies, and even exotic slaves to court 'royal favours'. Slaves of the Terran variety especially are considered to be the most unique of gifts the empire has ever acquired.
Terrans weren't necessarily large and bulky. Fighters were assigned to the Slave Obniraks. Powerful creatures used to fill the fields on tougher worlds where mechanical services would be deemed to expensive. The growth of a Obnirak into full working adulthood is only a few cycles. Meaning mass producing a workforce is quite an easy feat.
Terrans instead would take vast cycles to mature from a childling to an average adult. Meaning growing a slave force would take vast quantities of resources, immense patience, and strict guidance from their owners as to not create faulty creatures. All of which increases the general standing on any house that manages to keep a vast amount of Terran slaves in the best quality.
Terrans weren't necessarily docile and obedient. That role was perhaps given to the oldest slave race the Ix ever controlled. The Iralisa. It was known that they were made remarkably docile due to generations upon generations of select breeding, and pruning off the 'aggressive traits' from the gene pool. However, that led to the adverse effect of physically weakening them to a point where such docility and lack of a frame to keep up with their workload led to a general lack of Ixian interest and were subsequently purified.
Terrans are notoriously independent and herd-minded in larger quantities. Similar to growing a very stubborn Terulian Rose Vine. Which only looks impressive when great care have been given. Terrans need to be given an illusion of being ever so slightly free. Which typically involves owning vast amounts of land and nature to let them roam and graze. Of course, the only ones that can accommodate grand work forces of Terrans are the larger houses with the appropriate territory for humans, as is studied in the Ixian art of Servitude.
One can only guess which species is the Emperor's favourite.
The following town should indeed have both, low caste Ixians, and possibly none of the Emperor's favourite slaves.
The Ixian approached the glowing town. As it reached closer it straightened its back, upright on its hindlegs in the royal fashion. And proclaimed. "It is I! La'Ix, royal courtier. Lend me aid imme-"
Something is off. Not a single shadow in the town, I can see lights but no movement, where is every-
After turning the corner to the center of the small town, the dustied and weary creature froze in its tracks when it saw it. A pit nearly as wide as an Ixian land cruiser and who knows how deep filled with a stench so powerful it watered his eyes. Despite the Ixian's lack of a proper sense of smell. It knew the foul fetor of death.
The crudely dug pit was nearly overflowing when he approached it. Large, smoking, smouldering pyres cast that eerie light that had drawn him in.
"H-how? Wha-What the..." he trailed off when a local species of Laran boar growled and squealed as it tore a dead Ixian limb from the mountain of corpses.
"Who could've..."
He stopped. The shock of seeing his own kind laid like broken dolls in a bleeding pit slowly faded, replaced by a numbness. The Ixian had just noticed they were of Ix. Only of Ix.
Not a single terran colour was visible in the black and spotted pit of bodies. Not a single slave body was visible.
I-Impossible...
His legs gave way, either from the strain of the entire nights run, the horror facing him, or the threat from behind. He just dropped.
Minutes passed, or hours. It was hard to tell. But the Ixian lay slumped. Body unwilling to move further. Battered flesh unwilling to be propelled by a shattered spirit.
Mind slowly spinning up again. Thoughts began whirring to life in its mind. Could the rumours actually have been true? It had read the sparse reports of odd activity from certain Ixian-controlled worlds on the outer arms of the empire. Small uprisings of unknown origin. Hardly anything of note. If it had no affect on the greater houses then it was of no real concern to Ix and its emperor.
Could this threat have made its way to the centre arm already? Impossible. But what else could have done this to us?
Something caught the Ixian's eyes. In the middle of the pit it stood. A large stake, wet with deep Ixian crimson, dripping ever so slowly. Towering over the pit like a battlefield flag was a head of an Ixian rammed onto the tip of the spike. But the particular detail that caught the Ixian's eyes was a symbol cut into the flesh of the large forehead.
Looking from the outward-in. Eight concentric rings, which proceeded to get smaller and smaller in size until it reached a dark mass at the centre of the symbol. The Ixian never forgot the symbol and the affect it had on it.
Eight concentric rings, and a centre mass. Eight rings, and a mass. Eight- Eight what? Eight planets? And a star? ...
A growing pool of cold dread rose in its guts that made it shiver despite the fair night. This dread reflected the sharp reality on its frigid surface.
This Ixian was well-bred, well-trained, and well-educated. Although anyone with a basic education would know of such a pattern.
Terra and her sisters. THEIR star system...
Thump, thump, thump, thump.
It's not possible!-
Knowing what that sound meant, the Ixian tried to whirl around, its body barely being able to heed its masters commands. Just when it was starting to move again it felt it.
Sudden sharp agony. Sudden sharp, raging agony. The Ixian looked at it's hind leg. A sharpened wooden stake was jutting out of it.
It loud out a tight lipped scream, as it grasped the pulsating wound as one does immediately after an injury. It barely had enough time to look up at its attacker when the Terran bolted forward, shortening the distance between hunter and prey from metres to mere paces. The Ixian barely had enough time to block the hand grasping the knife as the arm flew forward at the last minute with a crash.
What phenomenal force!
Using the momentum from that sprint plus the wind up of his arm. The Terran was able to impart a phenomal show of force for a creature its size. That's when La'Ix for the first time saw a human in its raw unchanged form. Great beads of sweat collecting dust on its brow, to prevent it from entering the eyes. The constant release of sweat from the countless pores on its soft fleshy skin. Constant cooling? Even the visible veins and capillaries visible from the fire light.
What a beast of endurance-
Suddenly the horizon fell before the Ixian only to reveal the inky black sky dotted with pigments from stars like a painters masterpiece. When did I look up? Then a crash and blunt force from the ground.
The Ixian had been toppled over by that ferocious exchange of force.
Barely able to get up due to the wind being knocked out of its single large lung, the searing pain in its hind leg, and the exhaustion from the chase. It was too late. The terran was already on top of it. Taking up the entire view of the sky as the terran stepped forward into its field of vision.
The sudden perspective change made a once small and frail looking slave look grander than life, grander than all the legends told to Ixian broodlings.
The punches rained down. Repeatedly. A constant bombardment of beating rained like the drops of rain before the first dew. The previous pain in its leg forgotten, to invite a new visitor in the form of blunt force trauma. So ferocious were the raw blows to its carapace that the Ixian felt the exoskeleton crack under the increasing pressure and strain.
Something cracked, another thing snapped. The amount of pain too much to comprehend. The neurons firing in its second brain just assumed it was everywhere. Its half-working eye glimpsed the fist as it came down for the nth time. Red and split knuckles, revealing pure white bone beneath—a reinforced weapon. The perfect natural offence. All the muscles moved to propel it downwards where something else cracked and split.
Is this where I die?
As if understanding its fate the Ixian's form slumped over. Its body barely holding onto the natural exoskeleton shielding that covered its chest and facial area. Fluids leaking from the cracks that went too deep, and who knows how many internal ribs are shattered.
Its body, knowing that that more movement will cause more injuries, and further stimuli would confuse it further. It simply shut down.
The last moments it had as it fell backwards on its side. Was a small running figure. Hand clutching wooden spears. But the truly petrifying sight was behind it. A vast shadow flickering from the light of the lit pyres from the hunter in front of it. A shadow cast so large, jagged, and menacing it appeared to swallow the town whole.
And into a hole did the Ixian fall. A vacuum with no sensation or thought. Just darkness.
How... did we never notice such a... monster... in their... shadow...
All Ixians were taught about 'violence' and 'conflict' at an early age. As a sort of rite of passage that any of them would go through as they survive their early broodling days. As Ix have no natural predators, they had begun to instil a serving of some necessary conflict to keep their generations fresh and somewhat physically strong. As a precaution, only rudimentary forms of civil sports, races, shows of strength and courage were ever really explored. But always in a controlled and calm settings, as there would never be any true need for actual conflict.
As there was always a need to maintain ones own environment. The need never arose for the development of fighting techniques and schools of training. That was one of the best parts of being an Ix that many thought. Having supreme control over the worlds you inhabit means setting gravity, atmospheric pressure, humidity, and temperatures to the perfect levels for comfort replaced any need for biological change. Why grow when you can keep everything the same way, how you like it.
They were a vast empire. An empire of statues.
-Excerpt from the history of extra-solarian species, Author unknown
It awoke to a burning radiating heat from in front. The large sun was already starting to set on the horizon when it awoke. Had a whole day passed? Or two?
Trying to block the setting sun from its eyes it couldn't. "What?...", barely made out in a whisper.
I'm tied up.
And indeed the Ixian was right. Tied up next to a small brook, with a scorching fire in front of it. The monster nowhere to be seen.
"No good... it's too tight", it grunted in an attempt to escape its bindings.
Going slack in defeat it avoided any additional movement. Not having the energy to spare to move. It was lucky to have always been lazy at shedding its carapace - a frequent nag from its broodmother - might just have become its salvation in this case.
Thank Ix.
So there it stayed.
Hours passed. The Sun fully set and the stars awake in this dark world barely lit up the wildlands. Only the prisoner in this cone of firelight existed out here.
A rustling up ahead caught the prisoner's attention disturbing the eerily still silence of the Savannah night. And ungodly horror of a squeal ruptured the air invoking a deep visceral terror within the bound prisoner. Something. Something close but just outside the firelight was eyeing it, glinting from beyond the light. Those dark predatory eyes stabbed the prisoner with a sudden coldness. All while the squealing suddenly halted. SNAP. SQUELCH.
Now it came, emerging into the light. A beast. Holding a knife in one bloodied hand, dripping on the dirt. And dragging by the leg, a massive adult Laran boar grotesquely smearing thick blood still warm from the cut in the neck on the dirt.
The prisoner watched, barely moving, barely breathing. Frozen with the horror in front of it as the bloodied carcass was skinned; fur sliced away with harsh, scraping sounds with the crude knife. Spurting remaining blood all over the site.
The pink naked flesh then washed in the brook, leaving a distinct smell of oxidised blood in the air, before being skewered and roasted over the roaring flames. Fat popping violently in the heat.
In this gruesome display, the beast revealed not just a fate for the boar, but a dark hint of what might come. The realisation struck deep—this could be more than just a demonstration; it was a terrifying preview of its own potential end.
It passed out again.
Only to be awoken by the haunting echoes of a wild, desperate squeal that once thrummed through the savannah's eerie silence. Dare it open its eyes?
After a great heavy effort -utilizing its every last drop of courage- one eye cracked open. And what it saw. Made it regret ever having done so.
Right across from it, the hunter was a grotesque silhouette against the flickering fire. Grasping a severed boar leg was a mouth viciously biting, ripping, tearing into the flesh with primal ferocity. Each bite was deliberate, each tear of sinew was a clear, calculated demonstration of supreme savagery. Its jaw muscles bulged with the force of a bite.
All the while, the eyes—deep, abyssal pits—fixed intently on the prisoner. Deepest black pits stared back at it. Watching. Observing. Calculating, with a dark intelligence. it was calculating. It was relishing the terror it inspired and the control it exerted. Or planning its next meal.
The sounds of ripping flesh filled the thick, blood-soaked air. Deep into the night. Deep into this never-ending nightmare.
Never once did the prisoner move. Not an iota. Frozen in abject horror.
The night passed quietly. After the feast the human had, or the desecration of life that the prisoner saw, whichever way you look at it. The human nodded off to sleep. Content in the success of his mission. But the tied up creature had no such rest. Sending silent pleas to the stars that it might be saved. But not daring to make a sound, less it awaken that sleeping horror. Or was it sleeping? Dear Ix, it might be watching me. Feigning sleep to keep an eye on its meal. Dear Ix I'm next...
All through the night, the demons plagued its mind. Until the warmth of the morning rose, and with it the sound of an Ixian cruiser.
Elation could not be an understatement for the tired, tied, beat, and bruised thing. Craning its neck to the direction of the sound about to bellow out an Ixian warning to the demon resting next it.
"BE CAREFUL! THERE'S ONE HERE-". It stopped speaking. That previous elation it felt at a saviour arriving to rescue it from the demons grasp, fizzled out like a drop of water in a drought.
That all so familiar cold remained. And the dryness of despair. As pairs of dark pupils shot back at it.
On the cruiser were tall adult Terrans. Clean cut, well fed, well dressed Terrans. Four, no Six, no eight of them. All hanging onto the side of cruiser while it made its way to their location. Compared to the demon waking up beside it, these creatures were organised. A savageness neatly packaged in a uniform with a symbol. The prisoners eyes grew wide in its sunken sockets. 8 rings, and a centre mass. They must be the cause of, well all this.
Accepting fate, its head fell in part defiance, in part to avoid the stinging eyes of these others. It felt their gaze burn through—cold, cruel, calculating. There is nothing I can do any longer.
"You're finally here. What took you so long?" The runner said to his approaching comrades, "Took all night to catch up to him."
"Hey Jan, great work", the tall militant woman shot back. With a playful punch to his arm. "Guess all that cardio really paid off, didn't I tell you it would!" She let out a playful guffaw.
"Thanks Chel", replied Jan.
"Ok chop chop people, we're on a schedule. We need to reach the port ASAP remember? Come on Jan, rest up all you like, you're still on the clock."
"Aye sir." Jan shot back in a mock salute, gaining a sneer from the commandant, then a sneaky smile.
"Don't forget your trash. And make sure its breathing still."
It creaked open its eyes, seeing pairs of boots moving towards it and standing in front. In silence. Then all of a sudden, felt pairs and pairs of hands pull and tug. and lift it up The thing let out a pathetic silent sob. While it was loaded in the back of the cruiser, face up. Staring at eyes, piercing black dots peering back. It could never understand what was being felt by those eyes and those faces.
Ixians wear their emotions on their carapace; spots and stripes would slowly appear in certain parts, representing emotions and feeling that their bodies felt in a general sense. But the most private thoughts were of course, still kept private.
But this. This was just too foreign. The eyes never stopped. Even in the swaying movement of the cruiser the pupils never broke contact. Those eyes. As if it was peering into it, envelops your entire mind. There was no way to hide, even hiding in his inner self would do no good. Those eyes. Those predator eyes can find me anywhere I try to escape to. Inside and out.
Some times passes.
"You know. I lost good friends to the royal caste. Especially to this one's brood clan or whatever they like to call it." One of them was looking right at it when they said it. It turned its eyes over to the source. A short one, with a slave scar on the neck said it. A scar that shot through his memories. A scar inflicted to property owned by, his brood. This one is dangerous..., it thought.
Jan, and the others didn't look but felt it. The cold darkness in that tone made it clear what it intended to do.
The female militant, Chel, I think her name was. Slowly reached to the side arm on her holster. Sensing the oncoming problem.
"You still understand me don't you? I've had to watch good people die. Damn good people." The scarred one one stood, grabbing the upper rail of the cruiser to steady themselves. "I hear that even if you get ill, you become the entertainment for the night. What was it now?" She paused for a brief second. "Oh I remember".
"Stil" Chel said slowly. "Cool it". Hand still on the butt of the sidearm.
Not hearing or not wanting to reply. Stil continued. "Torn apart by those raptor pets. Hands or feet cut off as souvenirs for those fucked-up parties and those fucked-up guests. Oh yea, and the 'toy play' or whatever they call it. Can't have Ken and Barbie fight back now, can we?"
Stil leaned closer to the now cowering, shaking thing, "I wonder which one was your favourite." The words cut through La'Ix like an icicle. This was the first time these demons actually spoke to it directly. And it didn't like it. It could sense the venom from the words.
"Stil..." Chel slowly got up, hand still at the ready. "I said cool it." The line had a steely warning to it. Chel wouldn't risk the mission. Even if it meant doing what must be done.
Agonizing seconds passed. The cowering, shaking thing seemed to grow whiter and whiter by the second, It's spots clearly showing what it felt. Staring up, Not willing to move but being unable to hide. It felt the absolute crushing weight of the present. Grinding it down to a paste.
Everyone stayed still. The two militants didn't move. The rest didn't seem to even have paid attention to the converstation, still looked away.
Longer passed.
Stil smiled, "Oh come on Chel, you know I wouldn't do anything to our friend here? You know I was just playing around." Stil laughed. Chel didn't react.
Stil immediately crouched, faced the shaking prisoner inches apart eye to eye, and in a whisper said "Right friend?"
She wants me to reply? Dear Ix I can't even think with those eyes in front of me What do I do?! What do I say?!
"Right. Friend?" Stil repeated slower and colder. Like the blade of a surgeon hovering over skin, ready to plunge.
The gears of its Ixian brain grinded to a screeching halt. In utter desperation to find a reply it simply gave up. Instead, it felt a warmth slowly spread. Slowly spread between its hind legs. It had released its bladder.
"BAHAHAHAHA LOOK AT IT" Stil roared in laughter. The sound of it rattling the prisoners brain with the sound. Disorienting its senses. "NOW THAT'S CLASSIC TIMING IF I'VE EVER SEEN IT!" She plopped back down face red and still laughing.
The Ixian didn't know what to do but tremble and sob silently on the cold surface of the cruiser surrounded by laughter. and the warmth of its piss. It tried to plug its ears. But the sound still came. Laughter. Laughter. Laughter. Dear Ix, what are these demons... where are they taking me? To hell?...
The cruiser kept cruising. Towards the port across the island. Trailing laughter behind. Or to the sobbing wreck of a thing, demonic cackling.
The scent of familiarity wafted into the senses of the prisoner as the cruiser started to slow. The smell of the salt, the chirping of familiar aviaries. Sound of the crash of sea. The port.
Braving a sentence for the first time in for what seems eternity. It let out a question "...w..w..where ... why... are... ... we ...h... here?" It managed to say shakily, eyes downcast.
As if in response, a sharp shove greeted it from the back and a hard hit on the ground was as much of an answer it was getting.
"Move it", Jan said gruffly.
They walked. the ixian still bound but free to walk in the middle of the group of humans. Towards a destination still not known. The walk twisted, and turned, and twisted again. One thing struck out to the prisoner. It was too clean, especially for what it was expecting, it's last experience being in the previous blood-soaked town laden with bodies and carrion eaters.
The port town was completely silent, free from the regular hustle and bustle it usually had even when the emperor was not present. And superbly clean. Not a single piece of dirt to be seen. Not a single Ixian either. Where did everyone go? Did they make it out somehow when these invaders came?
In the background, the surf broke relentlessly.
Piercing eyes caught the prisoners glance, as it wandered curiously around the town. Realising its mistake La'Ix tried to look away but the burning gaze gripped his own.
As if reading its soul. The human answered the hidden question bubbling up in La'Ix. "You should've seen them your royal majesty". The one called Stil said while bending in mocking courtesy.
The surf pounded the shore even more loudly now.
"They don't swim well. Especially the young ones. They dropped like stones. Turning all white by the time they stopped moving."
Louder now. The sea roared.
Nothing came. Not a thought in La'Ix's mind. Its mind struggled to comprehend the depth of what was said by Stil, the scarred human.
The waves boomed louder now. Louder than the sun, echoing louder than the screams of all the Ixians that must have perished.
It saw the lips of the standing-devil in front of it. But all the came from its blood red lips were obscured by the sound of the pounding of the waves. The echoes of drowned kin, thudding and slapping against the shore, merged with the relentless surf in La'Ix's mind.
This is for our sins.
Wave after wave, the relentless surge continued, each one a haunting reminder of the souls lost to the sea, each crash a ghostly thud of bodies hitting the shore.
Very slowly did some exhausted neuron in the Ixian's head come to a conclusion as to how these creatures in front of it can be so relentless, so cruel, and so evil. When pushed to beyond its breaking point, did their true carnivorous instincts rear their ugly head.
Oh dear Ix. What sort of environment could breed such demons?
La'Ix didn't remember what happened next. The memories feel like a distant dream now as he sits watching the port sky now.
The aching brand on his forehead of the 8 ringed system, pulsed in pain—a departing gift from his newly made friends, stung from the salty sea air.
He barely recalls the staggered walk from the empty inter-arm transmission office and the inputting of his biometric royal seal. He barely even remembers the message that was sent under his name and signature
And even less does he remember what he heard what will happen next.
All alone now, he stares at the sky of the empty port town. As he watches more royal ships enter the atmosphere.
He gazes upward, thoughtlessly, statue-like Knowing fate will come for them all. Fate in the form of piercing black eyes and a monster so large it can fit in a shadow.
A single thought, carried its way from above the despair to the surface. Slowly. Like a bubble in a pool of tar.
What was I meant to tell the emperor again?

11/20/2017
Log book of Det. Ryan Snow
Case #2798: The Appalachian Murders
The past couple of days are events I pray no one else ever has to go through what Kate and I had. I had her and Mr. Raines cleared of all charges, having found the proof we all needed to end this case and find the true killer. Kate no longer has to go into witness protection and I had given the police a good enough lie to keep myself from looking insane in the eyes of my co-workers. I know no one will ever know the true story or believe it, but I’m writing it out here. It at least needs to be known written somewhere. Even if my and Kate’s eyes are the only ones that will ever read it written out and forever imprinted in our memories.
The morning Kate had run off to the mountains on her own, I had made my way to the Blackwell home where I was immediately met with Mr. Blackwell charging at me and wrapping his large hands around my neck. He was shaking me and blaming me for getting his daughter killed and not doing more to keep her safe. The police who had been called to examine the scene and read Kate’s letter had to sedate Mr. Blackwell to get him off of me, lying him down on the couch, his head resting on Mrs. Blackwell’s legs. Though the woman was distraught and begging the police to bring her daughter back, she still took the time to shoot that cold, death glare my way. The ice in my chest growing. I couldn’t tell these people that this thing had come after me to get to Kate. I knew it wouldn’t change anything. If anything they’d hate me even more for keeping it to myself.
The sheriff was there and he pulled me away from eye sight of the Blackwells, trying to tell me that this wasn’t my fault. But I couldn’t help but blame myself. I should have done everything I could to keep Kate as far from those mountains as possible.
There were no signs of a struggle in Kate’s room and the letter was definitely written in her hand writing. Her father’s rifle missing from the study, a backpack and some food and supplies gone as well. She had only grabbed one set of clothes from her drawers, showing she did indeed have plans on returning after only one night in the mountains to confront whoever or whatever the killer was.
I told the sheriff to keep any police from going up to the mountains without first allowing me to go up there first to find Kate. He of course argued, telling me that he couldn’t break protocol based on any hunches I may have had. However, I told him that I could get Kate back without her putting up much of a fight, whereas she may struggle with a group of cops who didn’t understand the situation she was in. I was close enough to this case to have built a trust with her after all. I was mentioned in her letter about ending this case for me.
It took a good hour to get the sheriff to eye the Blackwells, Mr. Blackwell beginning to stir from his sleep, and allow me to go to the mountains to find Kate. He didn’t bother to call off the search to the police that had already begun making their way to the mountains, but did radio to tell them to not try getting Kate home without first allowing me to speak to her. He then gave me twenty-four hours to find her to which I told him I’d only need at most ten.
Without telling him about the disturbing scratches on my car, I sped to the mountains, taking the same path Kate had that day she took her friends on their trip. The route, as the sun began to rise was scenic. A drive that may have been a sign of a bright future ahead with a beautiful week in the mountains of nothing but nature, was now a reddening sky of horror. I couldn’t understand how Kate felt, going down the same roads that led to her only friends’ fates to avenge them, but the feeling of guilt did weigh heavy on my chest as I saw the signs of the Appalachian Mountain trails grow bigger on the horizon. Guilt for not doing more to prove Kate was innocent, for allowing Mrs. Mayfield for getting killed right before my very eyes, and for Liam for not being lucky enough to save him.
When I finally arrived to the cabin, there didn’t seem to be any change since the first day I was called to the crime scene, the only thing out of place being Mr. Blackwell’s truck parked precariously near the cabin. The police tape was still up, the cars of Kate and Mr. Woolfe still left where they were, the tires still slashed, the door wide open from when Kate, Ms. Greymoore, and Mr. Woolfe ran out of the cabin upon Mr. Billings was killed by an unknown force. All the bodies had been found and were now being prepared by their families to be buried or cremated. Only one body of the five still roaming around to avenge each and every one of their deaths.
I called out for Kate as I made my way into the cabin. The Ouija board was still on the coffee table, the white line of where Mr. Billings had been found lying face first on the floor with his head bashed open remained on the spot. The planchette was still missing. I kept calling out for Kate as I made my way up to the attic, the door left unlocked, using my flashlight to shine down on the white outline where Mr. Steele had been found completely torn apart. To think Kate had done such a thing, I now realize made me look like a complete dumb ass for believing it.
When I couldn’t find Kate in the cabin, I made my way out the cabin, still calling for her. I called out to her, promising that she just needed to come back home with me and we could solve the murders together. I knew it was a lie and that the sheriff would immediately have her take away to some secluded place where the killer couldn’t find her, but it was all I could think of to try luring her out to meet me. Still, she never appeared.
The sun was soon beginning to set as I tried retracing the very steps Kate and Ms. Greymoore had taken to outrun the killer. I had passed the small shrine of flowers and the pictures of Mr. Woolfe where the boy had been found, his face permanently remaining nineteen forever in the photos of him with Kate and their friends. I kept going, trying my best to follow the same path to the cliff where Ms. Greymoore was found, calling for Kate along the way.
It wasn’t until I found the place Kate had buried her best friend that I found Kate. She was on her knees before the rock where she left her bloody handprint, sniffing as her head was lowered, her dad’s rifle in her hands.
“Ms. Blackwell-“ I began as I took a step toward her. I was immediately cut off as Kate jumped to her feet, raising her father’s rifle at my head. I jolted back, raising my hands up to show her I meant no harm to her. “Ms. Blackwell, it’s me, Det. Snow!”
“Detective…?” She gasped, slightly lowering the rifle, but keeping it on me. “P-Prove it!”
“I’m sorry?” I asked, raising an eyebrow.
“I… I thought I saw Sonja…” Kate breathed between tears, the rifle shaking in her hands, “it… It was wearing her face… It had her voice… How… H-How do I know you’re really Det. Snow?”
“You… Saw Sonja?” I asked as gently as I could with a terrified woman pointing a gun my way. “She spoke to you?”
“Prove you’re Det. Snow!” Kate demanded as she stilled her arms, readying the rifle as she pointed straight between my eyes.
“Alright! Alright!” I kept my hands up, backing up slightly as I tried thinking of how I could prove to her I was really me. “I… I, ah… I have… Had a brother… We went to get ice cream together once and… I dropped a dime and went to grab it… I was five… I followed it out to the road and despite how trafficked it was, I didn’t get hit. I grabbed the dime just as a truck was speeding my way and it swerved just before hitting me… Seeing how close I was to death, I dropped the dime and it rolled into the sewer. My brother called me Lucky Dime since then… Saying the dime was lost to me because it did its job in protecting me… I haven’t seen my brother since I was seven and I haven’t spoken to my parents in…” I looked at my watch. “Five years… No one else calls me Lucky Dime… Not even the people at the station know that was my nickname.”
With this, Kate lowered the rifle, her eyes softening from her furious fear to a more melancholy terror. She looked to Ms. Greymoore’s grave marker, her hand print just barely visible In the approaching darkness.
“It… It looked just… Like her…” She sniffed, “it had her voice… Why did it have her voice… Why did it look like her…?”
“Ms. Blackwell,” I soothed, relaxing now that there was no weapon in my face, “we need to head back, your parents are worried about you and the police are looking for-“
“I can’t go back yet!” She snapped at me as she spun to look at me, tears in her eyes. “That thing is still out there and will kill again unless I end it!” She held up her dad’s rifle as if to show me how she meant to “end it.” “I’m not leaving until I end that… Thing that had the balls to wear Sonja’s face and have her voice!”
“Ms. Blackwell, we will catch the killer, I promise, but right now, we need to get you home before your dad ends up killing a police officer for keeping him from looking for you.”
“I told him in my letter I’d be back tomorrow! I’m twenty-years-old, he can’t force me back home if I don’t want to! I just want to stop this thing before it-“
A howling in the distance cut Kate off. Coyote from what I could hear. If I couldn’t get Kate home, I’d have to get her somewhere safe. I turned to begin talking her down and taking her to one of the other two cabins for shelter. However, when I looked back at her, her face had turned to a bone chilling terror I’d never seen on a person before. She looked like hunted prey that had been found by its predator. She gripped her dad’s rifle to her chest tightly, her hand reaching for the trigger.
“Ms. Blackwell, it’s just a pack of coyote,” I tried telling her calmly, “let’s get to one of the other cabins and-“
“No, no, no,” She stopped me as she stepped back, looking around for where the howling was coming from, “I… Heard that same howling just before I saw Sonja! I thought it was far away, but she… She was right in front of me… She… Something was off, but it looked just like her!”
“Ms. Blackwell, you didn’t see Sonja,” I assured her, “I don’t know what you think you saw, but it wasn’t-“
“Lucky… Dime…”
I froze. My blood turned to ice. The fear on Kate’s face grew as she began backing away, her back hitting the grave marker. I spun around to see a figure in the darkness limp toward us, a scratched and garbled familiar voice coming from it.
“Lucky… Dime…” It wheezed, “You brought her… Back… Give her… To me…”
I whipped out my gun, pointing it at this thing that had his voice. I stepped back to stand directly between this thing and Kate.
“Stay back!” I demanded. “Don’t come any closer!”
“Lucky… Di-“
“Shut up! Stop calling me that! Who are you? Not another step or I’ll shoot!”
The thing stopped limping toward us, its body shuddering in place as it stared us down. I took the safety off of my Glock, ready to blow this thing’s head off if it got any closer or even dared using that voice on me again.
“Kate…” It turned its attention to Kate, a completely different voice coming from it, another male’s voice. “Kate… I’m cold…”
“J-Jasper…” Kate began to sob, “Please, stop using their voices… Please stop!”
“Kate… Kate why did… Did you leave me…?” Another male voice asked. “I… I was in so much… Pain…”
“Shut up!” Kate cried out.
“I thought we… Were friends… Kate…” A female voice. “You said you… Loved me… Why won’t… You let me have… Your warmth…?”
“I said shut up!” Kate screamed as she pointed her rifle and shooting at the creature. She had missed, but the thing still let out an ear piercing shriek as it dodged out of the way of the bullets Kate was shooting. It ran off into the darkness, but Kate kept pulling the trigger of her rifle.
“Stop!” I shouted as I snatched the barrel of her rifle, shoving it to the ground before us. “It’s gone, you scared it off, get to the cabins, I’m right here with you!”
I began shoving Kate back toward where the cabins were, the sounds of that thing screaming out in a symphony of different voices ringing out throughout the woods. I shoved Kate into the first cabin we had arrived to, Cabin #1 I could only assume as I slammed the door shut behind us. It smelled God awful, like the smell of the corpse I found on my first murder case, and it was getting darker as the sun began to sink behind the trees outside.
“Detective, it smell terrible in here!” Kate cried out, covering her mouth and nose, but the tears still falling from her eyes were still visible as they rolled down her cheeks.
I pulled her close and kept her behind me as I took my gun and flashlight out. “Stay close to me,” I ordered, leading the way through the cabin, “do not run off or use that rifle without may say so, understood?”
Kate didn’t answer, but I could feel the heat from her body following after me as I made my toward the smell. It was getting worse as we inched closer to a closet door in a hallway that connected the living room to the kitchen. The door was locked, but after a couple of kicks I was able to get the door to swing open, the smell blasting us in our faces making us gag and nearly throw up on the floor. I fumbled around the sides inside the room to find a light switch that I was able to find to the side of the entryway. A yellow light flickered on, revealing the door led to a staircase. I led the way down the creaking steps, Kate close by as she kept her mouth covered with her shirt.
Once we had made our way to the bottom, Kate dropped her dad’s rifle and let out a scream as we stared at what was waiting for us at the bottom of the steps. In a large pile at the corner of this basement room were nothing but skin and bones of humans and animals covered in maggots and flies. Some of the human bodies being small and child-like in size. The missing people who were never found after vanishing when they came to Cabin #2.
I grabbed Kate’s rifle off the floor and began pushing her back up the stairs, her screaming and sobbing all the way back up to the cabin. I slammed the door shut behind us and pushed Kate to the front door.
“We need to leave,” I had told her, trying to calm her down as we made it outside, “we need to get you home and away from here as soon as possible.”
“N-No… No!” She began fighting me, trying to escape my grasp on her. “No! That… That thing is still out there! You saw it! You can’t say you don’t believe me now! It even called you Lucky Dime! It said you brought me back!”
“I’m not saying I don’t believe you!” I shot back. “I do, I saw exactly what you saw, but it’s way too dangerous for you to be out here while you’re the one it’s after!”
“I escaped it once, I can do it again!” Kate pointed out as she struggled against me while I tried getting her into my car. “I’m not running away this time, I want to kill it!”
“God damn it, Blackwell, we’ll let the police handle it! Just because you have a weapon doesn’t make you safe or ready to handle something like… Like that… That thing!”
“It killed my friends! It wants me! I’m going straight to it so I can blow its head off! It’ll come right for me!”
“I came here to bring you back home, not let you accomplish some stupid ass revenge plot! Get in the fucking car, unless you want to end up like those bodies down that-“
“D… De… Detect… Detective…”
A scratched and moaning voice cut me off. Kate and I both froze at the sound of something approaching. I turned to see a police officer stagger toward us from the tree line. I could barely tell who he was or who he used to be, his head held low and blue uniform covered in blood.
“H… Hel… Hel… Help… Help me…" It croaked as it stumbled closer.
I held up Kate's rifle. "Stay back!" I barked. "Not another step!"
The thing that stood before us wearing the cop like a full-bodied suit stopped in place. It swayed where it stood, blood water falling from its head and down to its chest.
"It… It… It's inside… Inside me…" It breathed painfully. "I… I can't… Help… Me…" Its voice then changed to that familiar voice that made my skin crawl. "Lucky… Dime… I… I'm so… Hungry… Give her… To… Me…"
I pulled the trigger of the rifle, hitting the creature in the head, the rest of it staggering backward from the blow. Still though, it remained on its feet, turning itself to look toward us once again.
"Give… Her… To… Me…" It wheeze, blood and brain pouring from where I had shot it, it beginning to stumble toward us once again. I continued shooting, hitting it in the shoulder, the arm, the leg, the head again, but it just kept coming toward us faster, demanding I give Kate to it.
I was about ready to ram it with the rifle, having run out of bullets, when a voice off in the distance made the creature freeze just an inch before us.
"I'm here! I'm here!" It called out in an almost sing-songy way, using the voice of a little girl. "I'm here! I'm here!"
"I'm… Here…" The creature repeated as it jerked its body to look to where the voice was coming from. "I'm here… I'm here… I'm here! I'm here! I'm here!" It began shrieking in a high pitch wail. It sounded like a mixture of different voices ranging from child, to woman, to man. Keeping flat on its feet, its upper body fell forward onto its hands before speedily crawling off like a spider.
We stood in shaking silence for a moment, Kate digging her fingers into my arm while I was too numb from shock to care about the pain she was unknowingly inflicting. It wasn’t until the radio from my car buzzed to life that jolted us back to whatever reality was at this point. I scrambled to the driver’s side, swinging the door open as I fell inside to grab the intercom to respond to the voice yelling for me over the receiver.
“Det. Snow, what the hell is going on up there?” The sheriff’s scratched voice called out over the receiver when I could barely get my name out of my mouth.
“Sh-Sh-Sheriff…?” Was all I could respond with, still trying to wrap my head around what I had just seen.
“Y-Y-Yeah,” he responded in mock shudder, “what the hell is going on up there? I’ve tried radioing every man I’ve got up there and am constantly being left on red! Do I need to send back-up?”
“No!” Immediately, I returned to full reality, finally understanding the severity of the moment and putting that knowledge into my tone. “Landon, do not send any more men up here, call everyone back immediately! I don’t know what this thing is, but it’s too dangerous! Call everyone back, we’re heading back to the Blackwell house now!”
“We?” The sheriff questioned, skepticism in his voice.
“I found Ms. Blackwell, she’s here with me.”
I was met with statice before the voice of Mr. Blackwell blasted over the intercom.
“Bring my daughter home, right now, you son of a bitch!” Mr. Blackwell demanded. “You bring her home this instant before I decide to kick your teeth in!”
I opened my mouth to respond, but the radio was snatched from my hand from Kate. “I’m not coming home until I kill this thing!” She snapped into the radio. “I don’t know what it is, but I at least know I’m not crazy and that it needs to die before it kills anyone else!”
I grabbed the radio from Kate’s hand, beginning to tell her off when a agonized scream erupted from the intercom. I dropped the radio to cover my ears as Kate did, the scream piercing from my car to throughout the forest around us. The voice screaming and crying for help sounded male and it seemed to echo all around us.
“GIVE HER TO ME, YOU SON OF A BITCH!” A mix of the screaming voice and Mr. Blackwell’s hissed out after a good five minutes of screaming before the radio short-circuited and puffs of smoke flowed out.
After allowing my ears to adjust to the sudden silence, I grabbed the radio once again and tried calling for the sheriff, for the cops with us in the mountains, for anyone. When I was met with more silence, I slammed the radio back down on the holder and cursed loudly, hitting the wheel as if it were the source of all my problems.
After a moment to take some deep breaths, I told Kate to get in the car as I placed her rifle in the back seat.
“Didn’t you hear me?” she shot back. “I’m not-“
“Damn it, Blackwell, we have no idea what we’re dealing with, it can mimic peoples’ voices, and it just ran off like a fucking black widow!” I snapped, stepping out of the driver’s seat to glare down at her. “The last thing I’m doing to leaving you here alone and I’m not staying here another second until I can wrap my head around what the fuck I just saw! So, you either get yourself killed out here while I try talking you down this hero complex high, or you’re going to do what I say and get in the damn car!”
We stood in heated silence, glaring each other down before Kate huffed and stormed over to the passenger side of my car and slamming the door shut as she climbed in. I jumped in after her and began driving away from this nutty nightmare I had found myself in.
We drove down the trail back to civilization in silence, Kate staring out the window and trying to keep her tearful sniffs quiet. I had finally begun calming down and was starting to feel bad for snapping at her. She had only gone there to avenge her friends by killing that thing that had most likely killed a whole bunch of cops to find her. However, I still couldn’t just let her stay to hunt it and I didn’t want to stay out in those mountains with some kind of creature that could take the form and voice of someone I knew. I still couldn’t understand what is was I had even seen.
“Wendigo,” Kate whispered, breaking the silence in the car first. She had said it as if she had just remembered something important.
“What?”
“A Wendigo,” She repeated, turning to look to me with wide scared eyes, “that’s what that thing is! It’s a Wendigo!”
“Slow down, what’s a Wendigo?”
“It’s… Oh, just forget it! You wouldn’t believe me anyway.”
“Ms. Blackwell, I just saw a cop being used as a puppet and then run off at inhuman speed on all fours; I doubt I’m not going to believe a single word that comes out of your mouth now. What’s a Wendigo?”
Kate eyed me for a moment before releasing some of the tension from her face as she took a deep breath and began explaining to me. “They’re a Native American myth; it’s believed they’re the spirits of people who would lose themselves in the woods and would end up eating other people to satiate their hunger. I think that’s what that thing is. They can mimic the voices of people who died and use it to lure people to them, they can take the form of that person too.”
“Why does it want female hearts?” I asked, not realizing I had yet told her what my mysterious caller kept asking for when they called me.
“It… It wants my heart?” she asked shakily.
I cursed to myself before letting out a frustrated sigh. “I think this thing wants hearts, but it only wants female hearts. Why? I don’t know yet. But the only other person to be found after killing someone in those cabins was found with his partner’s heart missing to which he was blamed for taking out of her. Recently, I’ve been getting calls from some… Thing wanting me to bring you back here so it could take something from you. It would have taken Ms. Greymoore’s, but you hid her well enough that only the police could find her in time. Now, I’ve been getting calls asking for you and to get something from you.”
Kate looked to me in shock before a wave of guilt twisted her face in pain. “I… I’m so, so… So sorry, Detective!” She cried out. “I… I had… I had no idea you were being… Harassed by it! Had I known it wanted me back and was demanding you brought me here, I never… I didn’t… That’s why it said you brought me back! Oh, I’m such an idiot!” She pressed her hands to her face, grabbing at her hair between her fingers and tightening them around her eyes.
“No, no, no, stop, stop that!” I ordered, screeching the car to a halt, having to bring it to a crooked stop so I could stop her from hurting herself. I snatched her arms from her head and pinned them to her lap, tears flooding her face. “It’s my fault for not telling you sooner! I was too focused on trying to solve this case with the most efficient evidence I could, but that just kept me looking to you as a suspect. I should have stopped thinking you were the killer the moment I got that first call. There’s no way any of us could have seen… This coming… Except people who probably already believe in that kind of stuff or don’t stop to assume a more rational explanation like a cult… I’m… I’m sorry. But, I won’t let it take anything from you, not anymore. I’m going to get you home and then I’ll deal with this with the rest of the police department. You don’t have to deal with this thing anymore, it’ll be my burden from now on. You need time to finally get some rest and mourn your friends with your and their families. It’s already fucked your life up enough, I won’t let it go on making it worse.”
I stopped her before she could argue with me with a wave of my hand. “Your friends’ deaths shouldn’t be your burden to handle. I know you want to be the one who kills that thing and do right by them, but that’s not what they would want. They’d want you to remember them and continue living. They know you didn’t do it, so stop blaming yourself and stop acting like you’re the one who has to make it up to them. I will put an end to this die trying, but you need to go home and be with people who are happy you still get to live.”
Kate looked down at her hands that I kept down on her lap before nodding weakly and letting out a broken “okay.”
“Good, now let’s get you home before-“
My words were cut off when the honk of a car barreling toward us echoed through the woods. The headlights were fast approaching and I barely had time to grab the gear shift to put us back in drive as the other vehicle hit us, forcing us back and forth in one violent motion. It took me a moment to check myself to be sure I hadn’t hit my head on anything or got whiplash from the crash before I immediately returned my full attention to Kate who was kneeling over holding her head. I gently grabbed her shoulder and pulled her up to examine her head. It didn’t appear to have been busted and bleeding, but she was holding the front side of her forehead.
“Are you okay?” I asked her, prying her hand away from the spot on her forehead, seeing that it was beginning to bruise. “Can you hear me? Blink twice if you can understand me!”
“I… I’m f-fine…” she mumbled as she looked to her hand to check if there was blood on her palm, “I… I think I just… Hit… Hit the w-window…” She then blinked twice in my direction before looking to the car that had rammed us.
I turned my attention as well to the car to see it was a police van, it’s front crushed into the left of my front. I quickly jumped out my vehicle and stormed to the van, yelling at who ever was driving the van to come out and explain what the hell they were doing.
The driver’s side of the van swung open once I was near enough and a man in an orange jumpsuit climbed out, staring familiar daggers at me. The moment realization set in, my mixed emotions of confusion, frustration, and fear turned to fury.
It was Leighton Raines.
“Jesus, you really are a shitty detective.” Was all he said to me before reaching into the can and retrieving a rifle out from the passenger seat.
[END OF PART 1]
Part 6

I was curious if anyone one else trains any form of Martial Arts, and if so, where have you found the best placement to be located for you? I'm using the back of my upper arm, almost to my armpit, and usually on the inside right between the muscle cut. This works fairly well, until we are working on more of the closer combat/throwing situations. I was curious if anyone had found a better placement.
For reference, I am 6 foot tall, about 140lbs, and have a bmi around 16%. I don't have a lot of good ideas on placement, namely because I know where my body will take impact. The abdomen has been a no go in my brain because body conditioning has us taking impact from the solar plexus, to the short ribs, to the lower abdomen. The back has me hesitate because of the mobility and the stretching of the skin from movement, as well as getting thrown. I'm unsure if I have more options.
THANK YOU🥰

I know, I know.
"But, people have a right to look for some kind of guarantee their key will be on time, they have a right to choose good players for their group"
Of course they have the right to do so. I would NEVER complain about a group lead filtering out low rio-rank players for higher keys, as they are unbeatable without people that know their stuff and how to do damage. My issue is everyone around the key levels I am with my alt atm, talking about +4 to +7. Keep me in the queue until you find someone better than a 504gs shadow with 1,2k rio, fine. But declining me the second I apply for the group (and weirdly mostly it's the ones with lower rio than me) is just ridiculous as these stats are WAY more than enough to expect gameplay that guarantees making it in time.
"But" you might say "But you can always open up your own group with your own key". Alright, next problem: No one fuckin' queues (and this is regardless of the dungeon, daytime or level). They simply see an ocean full of 1-3 dps groups w/o heals or tanks and simply ignore. With the shrinking amount of tanks and heals this issue is just going to be bigger and bigger in the future. Everybody and their dogs are clinching to the few groups that already show a shield and/or plus in the queue overview and disregard the other keys completely.
"Why don't you join a guild?" See, I know I sound like someone that disregards every option that is given to him, but I simply do not have the time nor the means to get involved with a guild again. Did this 4 times since WotLK and I just loathe guild commitment in this game by now.
My case is that there should be a possibility for players like me (and there are plenty, I talked to A LOT of unsatisfied other players via /w in the last few weeks) to still have a fulfilling gaming experience. This game caters so heavily to the casual player nowadays that I'd love to see a way to stop this upper class/lower class divide in DPS in WoW.
Deleting raider io is something that I thought of in anger last time I wasted 40 minutes looking for a group, queueing for ANY of them and being declined all the time. No one gets to see who is good or bad, everyone has to live with the consequences of keys not being finished and groups wiping sometimes. But I know that a lot of people (a lot of people that do not have the same problems as many guildless dps like me) do not like that idea, naturally.
But the issue is that raider io has become a player-base divisor on a ridiculous level imho, everybody nowadays is just searching that 3k+ rio dps for their +6 as if they were junkies. No one (especially those with a low-to-mid-rio themselves) knows what a good-enough rio-stat is anymore. I know there are thousands of dps and dozens of them queueing in said groups, but declining players with a decent enough rio stat for the addiction to high rio players is an unbelievably annoying issue (talked to a rogue last night, who had 2k rio with over 15 +5-+9 runs that was constantly declined in +6-groups).
I don't know if I am shouting into a void, but I needed to vent in this particular case, because being declined for literally ridiculous key levels is sucking all of the fun out of WoW for me atm. At one point it will be like in RL, no middle class, only low level noobs looking for a group full of high level players and no one has a chance to learn let alone raise their own rio-level anymore.
I am open to any opinion, would love to discuss this topic with you. (I still love this game and will play it ofc)

Preface: I'm not a doctor, I'm not a speech therapist, and this is not medical advice. This is just what I've done to overcome my MTD and my opinions.
MTD is a name given to a large number of conditions. The architecture of our vocal instrument is very complex though, and "muscle tension" is not only a very uninformative diagnosis, but even a misdirecting one. I say this because:

• Most people don't actually know how muscles work, and will create an incorrect mental model of what's going on, which adds tension to tension.
• It encourages a view of our muscles and vocal instrument as an "external object" that is "misbehaving" and that "we need to correct and control", which, needless to say, adds more tension to tension.

I got my MTD after a single singing session in which I screamed in complete disregard of the vocal hygiene principles that I learned over two years of studies. The day after I had all the typical MTD symptoms, but I thought it was just a temporary loss of voice, like it happened before. Then one week went by. Then another. Then I tried with absolute silence, then I tried with lozenges, herbs, ibuprofen. Then I went to and ENT doctor and got a laryngoscopy, which came out clean, and got referred to a speech therapist.
The speech therapist gave me exercises and tips, she told me to talk with a confidential voice, she instructed me to keep a correct posture, she instructed me to always use abdominal breathing. She was meaning well, but all this had the effect of adding tension to my tension.
Months went by with no progress. I could speak, but not more than one day at a time. If I spoke one day, my voice would feel destroyed the day after. Speaking would become painful and effortful. Several days of silence would get my voice back almost to a normal state, but a single day of speaking would ruin all the work I'd done.
I was fortunate enough however, that all this happened after I left my job to focus on music (the irony), and so at some point I decided to find a way myself, focus entirely on my voice and get rid of this problem once for all.
My MTD lasted about 6 months. After I practiced what I'm describing in this post it subsided over the span of about 3 weeks.
I want to share my findings with you, but keep in mind that

1. I am not a doctor, I'm only sharing my experience. What you do with this is only your responsibility. If you have any doubts please consult with your doctor first.

2. MTD is actually many things, what worked for me doesn't necessarily work for you, and it may even be deetrimental.
First, some general principles I followed 1. Don't interfere with your voice outside of your exercises. Don't try to speak the right way. Leave that voice alone. 2. Only unintentional progress is real progress. I don't care about progress that is actually a result of breaking the first rule. So you can finally stop worrying about your voice when you are not exercising. 3. Progress comes after sleep, not while you practice
When you practice things will get frustrating. Your brain registers that frustration and builds new connections while you sleep. Frustration and lack of progress while you practice are a good thing, it means that you are successfully building the input that will be processed while you sleep. Give it two nights of sleep, and results will come.
Ok, so here's what I've done. It's a simple three phases plan where we keep adding stuff:
1. Fix your breathing:
This is the basis. You've heard that before, but if I ask you to do abdominal breathing I'd be asking you to do something intentionally, which breaks principle 1. The other component of the basis is a relaxed attitude, which is a difficult thing to have when you feel betrayed by your body. We need to kill these two birds with a single massive stone.
What follows is a slightly modified version of the zazen meditation technique. I'm aware it can sound boring, but this is really important and I think it's necessary to practice this every day until recovery, without exceptions. Really.
Set a timer for 25 minutes, sit comfortably, close your eyes, and let your body breathe. While you breathe, identify the point at the centre of your body, about 4 inches below your navel. I want you to notice the sensation of breathing in that point. Don't try to change your breath, just notice any sensations there. If there aren't any, just stay vigilant, 'cause there will be.
Keep paying attention to that point, and start counting the breaths 1 to 10. When you get to 10 restart from one. If you lose the count, just restart from one. If you start thinking about dinner and lose contact with the centre of your body, just bring it back into your attention field. Every time you lose attention and bring it back, your mind relaxes a bit. The more you do it, the more your attention naturally settles on the sensation of breathing at the centre of your body.
Don't try to force your attention to stay there. Let it be and bring it back only if you notice it wanders. Also, don't focus super hard, that wouldn't be relaxing at all! Chill and let your attention rest there.
Thoughts will occur. That's ok, in fact, thoughts are part of the process. Let them happen, but keep the sensations at the centre of your body in your field of attention. When you notice that you lost attention, the thought stream will naturally interrupt and your attention will go back to your centre. There is no need for you to forcefully interrupt your thought stream. It'll happen by itself when you remember about your centre.
You may feel deeply relaxed, which is great, just try not to fall asleep.
If you do this consistently, you'll be breathing diaphragmatically without even noticing, which we agreed counts as real progress.
2. Rewiring
After about one week practicing the previous step (which you must keep doing), I started humming whenever I felt tension building up around my neck, which was normally just after I spoke two sentences. I know it's counterintuitive, but it made sense for me. What we are trying to do here is breaking the association voice emission -> tension, and create a new one voice emission -> relaxation. After all, we all know that our vocal chords are perfectly fine, and those sweet vibrations have a relaxing effect on our muscles. They have it even if you experience MTD, we just don't notice it because the tension created by our condition is greater than that relaxing stimulus.
So now when you feel that tension building up do the following:

• Check your upper chest: if it's contracted, let it relax
• Bring your attention to the point below the navel, just like you've practiced every day.
• Hum at a very low volume, in a similar fashion as humming in yoga practice. Try to identify that relaxation stimulus in your body. Pay attention to the positive sensations. Hum slowly, feel your body relaxing and your breath naturally centering itself lower in your body.
• Bonus: play with the resonance of that hum and check if your pleasant sensations change.

If some relaxation comes, great, if it doesn't, that's still fine! Don't get frustrated, remember that progress comes after sleep anyway.
3. Trigger relaxation. After about a week practicing the previous step (which you must keep doing) I started working actively on muscle relaxation. The basic idea here is to trigger a chain reaction. All our muscles are connected. As we all learned, unfortunately, one muscle becoming tense leads to all the muscles around becoming tense too. Well, the opposite is also true.
Because we can interact with our tongue much more easily than with other internal muscles, we'll use that to trigger the chain reaction. Follow the instructions on this video: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=OorqNloxITM do it al least twice a day (in the morning and before you go to sleep) and every time you feel you need it. Pay especial attention to step where you let the tongue relax while pulling it.
From now on, stop trying to control your voice or to speak confidentially, or whatever you are doing in fear of hurting yourself. Now it's the time to let all the work express some results, so don't interfere. Do whatever comes naturally. If you naturally want to speak softly do that, if not, don't.
Keep practicing all the three steps for a few weeks and only then check whether this is working for you or not. Unless you feel you are getting hurt by this, abstain from judgement until then, otherwise you'll pay too much attention to your voice and interfere with the process.
I really hope this works for you as well as it did for me. Once again, I'm nobody, I'm not a doctor, I'm not a speech therapist, I just wanted to share this in case it's helpful to somebody, but what you do with your voice is your responsibility.

Hello,
Apologies in advance for the long message.
I'm new to the gun world and recently got my first handgun, Glock 17. I am in the market to buy an AR-15 Rifle and have been told by friends to just build it instead.
I was looking at buying a Daniel Defense for around $2300 but was told I can basically build it for much less.
Right now I'm looking at picking up an Aero Precision M4E1 STRIPPED LOWER for around $140 + whatever tax/fees I need to pay.
Does the 11% added tax apply only towards ready to shot firearms, Ammo & lowers? It does not apply to parts like (uppers/triggers,handles/grips, stocks, scope's...etc). I've been told the 11% will apply to EVERYTHING listed above but I feel like that is incorrect? If that's the case, I need to buy everything now to avoid paying more.
Break
I started my 10day wait period on May 2th and picked up the glock on May 14th. Does that mean since May 12th (10day) is when my 30day ban starts & if so does that mean June 11th (30 days from end of 10-day wait), I can purchase another firearm on June 12th and wait 10-day again?
Would it have been smarter to just buy the lower on May 13th and waited the 30-days after that, assuming that's how it works?

I picked up my new MT Mazda 3 2024 a few months ago, and due to strong vibrations in the gear lever the transmission was replaced after only a few hundred miles. There was a specific TSB that covered my issue, so Mazda promptly authorized said transmission replacement. In addition to the transmission the shifter cables were replaced and adjusted, but the flywheel and clutch were not replaced.
Since then, I'm randomly experiencing a feeling of resistance/notchiness when shifting, notchiness that wasn't there before and in specific gears it's similar to a multi-tooth grinding sensation. Specifically:
1st gear: slight notch (1 shift out of 3-4)  
2nd gear: multi-teeth grinding sensation (1 shift out of 2-3)  
3rd gear: strong notch (1 shift out of 6-7)  
4th gear: slight grinding sensation (1 shift out of 2-3)  
5th gear: slight notch (1 shift out of 3-4, like 1st gear)
I've prepared a diagram that summarizes the different 'crunches', available at https://ibb.co/3YGWJX8 .
These grinding sensations appear randomly, both when the engine is hot and cold, with no apparent factors that consistently allows to reproduce them. Shifting to a lower or upper gear doesn't make any difference. I cannot hear any noise, vibration or any kind of abnormal feedback when shifting. When there isn't any notchiness, the 'normal' shifts are extremely fluid and pleasant. Again, it's totally random.
The mechanic has tried replacing and readjusting the shifter cables according to a procedure described in a specific TSB, as well as replacing the gearbox oil, but it didn't help at all - it subjectively worsened the 1st gear notchiness and the sawtooth feeling when shifting to 2nd.
My mechanic is at my wits end, Mazda doesn't seem to be interested in pursuing the case further, and at this point the dealer is willing to buy back the car. Has anyone else encountered a similar problem, even with other cars, and managed to solve it or at least pin-point its root cause?

Just another fun little story idea I had. I am still working on Humans are the violent ones but I like to bounce around and experiment with ideas to see what I really like. I also suck at writing more casual stories, as they give me severe writer's block as I try to map out how to make a scene feel genuine in my head, but I promise I'll update that soon. If you like this story and want to see more, then like and comment. I'll gladly continue this series as well.
Start of Personal Log
Humans don't like being told what to do. They don't like being commanded, put in their place, or snubbed. It was an inexorable, inalienable trait of humans, at least any noteable humans, to go against any authority that they believed was against their interests.
Humanity would not fit amongst the stars. Few ever did. It was a trait of most successful species to be willful, ambitious, and to desire more. But once they reached the stars the new (and simultaneously very old) pecking order either quashed any spirit such species had or simply eradicated them. Countless tomb worlds and diaspora served as painful reminders of what became of the nails that chose to stick out. The hammer of order would always strike. There could be no compromise, the very soul of the authority that held the Jurisdiction together relied on a show of unmatched power, or at least the illusion of item.
In reality, the Jurisdiction was an old, fat, and lazy beast. It filled its belly on the corpses of empires far and wide, and sated its bloodlust on the shattered dreams of hopeful cubs. It had every right to, for none could challenge it: there were no new frontiers to explore, nor were there any other enemies to conquer. The Milky Way, as humans had so strangely dubbed our cradle galaxy, as well as Andromeda, had long since been warred over and settled for millennia before humanity had arrived, bright-eyed and with familiar yet otherwise foolish dreams of cooperation and prosperity. The Jurisdiction did not cooperate, nor did it ensure prosperity. Oh, it claimed it did, but in reality it simply took. The rest was just the peace that came with not being the direct target of the biggest fish in the pond. The humans didn't like that, but they had no choice.
Slavery was a common tribute. The Jurisdiction had no use for other resources: it simply took. No, it wanted those who could facilitate that unequal exchange, those raised in a world where the only morality was the one set by your lord. The Jurisdiction was held together by expectations, obligations, and dury more than any kind of shared dream, so when you were ordered to take you did so without question. Humanity was new: they had no niche or value that set them apart, but they had a penchant for killing and taking, so the Jurisdiction gave them a taste of how the galaxy worked. They killed and they took. The humans didn't like that, but what choice did they have?
Humans were strange. They learned, but not in the way most species learned. Most species learned to adapt in a passive way, to adhere to the world around them. They flowed like water, moving past and around obstacles and confirming to the boxes they were assigned too. Humans didn't confirm, nor did they adapt: they made their circumstances fit their desires. They would not move around obstacles, but rather smash through them, and they refused to stay in one box for too long. The Jurisdiction merely saw them as a particularly loud nuisance, but those who faced their wrath knew better.
It is said that when a beast seeks to make an example, it shall humble its rival by killing it's cubs. Children were one of those universal constants that brought entire communities together: the Sok’klar saw their hatchlings as gifts, shaped by the fruitful currents of the universe in perfect harmony. The Yarrack saw each and every newborn whelp as an uncut gemstone, ready to be shaped into something magical. Humanity oftentimes referred to their offspring as angels, or spirits of unbridled good sent by the gods themselves. Children were seen by most of the galaxy as gifts.
The Jurisdiction saw them as a lever to inflict suffering. It had become quite effective at enacting psychological punishments on those that stood up and spoke out. You dare to disobey? You believe you can speak out? Your gifts shall be taken from you, and you shall be without joy.
Humans didn't like this, but the Jurisdiction would have their pound of flesh, and humankind would kneel. And they did. But humans were patient creatures: most species who retained that trait of willful spit also lacked patience.
I had long since become desensitized to the Jurisdiction’s actions: it was simply how the universe worked now, as if it were a constant akin to gravity. Cruelty was the unspoken rule of this seemingly unending age, where our lives never appeared to move forward or backwards, only lay dormant. The Jurisdiction had been the unyielding authority that ruled the galaxy for thousands of years, venerable yet feared all the same.
And for the longest time I was just another cog in its wheel. My name is Kalnuracht Sedjuur-Noumar VII, and was the scion of the noble house Sedjuur-Noumar. I was born into what most would describe as veiled apathy, living a life that could be attributed to the privileged class of feared scribes that enacted the will of those above. I was an administrator and nothing more. And now I am doomed to be far less than that in the eyes of my former constituents within the endless administration. I am the only scion, as is tradition, and without an heir I am the last of my house, our name to be scrubbed from the records, worthless, meaningless, and forgotten.
I am merely Kalnuracht, nothing else and nothing more. I have seen from their eyes, the eyes of the downtrodden, and it makes my crimes of association with the Jurisdiction feel all the more damning on my worthless soul. I am worthless to the world, and this is my story.
End Personal Log #1
Start of Neural Lace Narrative Log #1
They came from the black like carrion birds in the night, encircling our convoy as if it were a dying animal ready to be picked clean without remorse. There was no warning, no list of demands sent out as civilized peoples did, nor was there either any requirement for unconditional surrender nor chance to parlay, as was done so under letter of marque: this was an unmistakable call for violence and nothing else. They sought to reduce us to slag and scavenge the rest.
So, as one would expect, the entire bridge of the ship was nearing a panicked state. This was not the actions of those practicing civility, but rather the common behaviors of despoiling barbarians, the kind that tore their way through the dark reaches of the galaxy as if they owned it.
“Wayfinder, what do your probes see?” Shouted the ship’s sovereign. He was an older Kar’Rowmach, an amphibious cephalopod species with a venerable history within the Jurisdiction going back thousands of years. Normally one such as him would be above me if it weren't for the fact that I was under the authority of the Jurisdiction’s seal of office. He didn't like me very much, but most of his kind shared the same sentiment.
“All dark, honorable Sovereign: the sensor arrays are wailing but the feedback we're reviewing is beyond incomprehensible,” the wayfinder replied with a certain restrained temper in his voice. The Sok'klar wayfinder swayed gently, his tentacled limbs grasping different metallo-liquid braille output arrays, the liquid gallium flexing and reshaping unnaturally to allow him to to take in multiple different sources of sensory output at once, with the primary navigation computer plugged into the cybernetics surrounding his opaque, gelatinous head and plugging directly into his tube-shaped brain.
The Sovereign cursed in Loskat and pointed to his bridge crew while I simply sat in the back, near the Sovereign’s symbolic throne. “Prepare countermeasures and spool up the warp drive, we cannot allow the amanuensis to be taken! He carries sensitive information that only he can translate and transcribe!”
As the bridge crew nodded and began fiddling with their own systems, I preened my feathered hide anxiously. I wasn't a fighter: us nobles of the cloth were the educated minority above all else, not those who waged war or partook in hard labor. Special cybernetics in my brain allowed me to translate triple-encoded messages that usually took a ducal signet codekey or above to parse, but even without that I was a skilled mathematician and logician. I had terabytes worth of knowledge stored within the hardware installed in my head, all well protected of course, but if I were to die it would still be a waste. I could only imagine the damage any malcontenders could do with it if they were able to get their filthy hands on me.
Suddenly, the ship rocked, and the gallium overhead display began to form crescendos like I'd never seen before. “Sovereign, decks A-3 through C-12 are venting atmosphere and our coolant systems have been obliterated,” the Wayfinder spoke in an almost serene voice, as if he was completely unconcerned by current events. I knew they were simply incapable of tonal displays, but it was unnerving nonetheless. “Once we jump, we will not be able to risk another until the vacuum of the void can reduce temperatures to acceptable levels within the plasma capacitors.”
“Damn them,” the armored nautiloid hissed, his barbed feelers coiling in frustration, “May the currents take them. What are our options? what can we see? This fleet cannot fall to the void today, not with such vital cargo.” My hackles rose lightly at the Kar’Rowmach referred to me as some object rather than an esteemed amanuensis of the Jurisdiction, but I bit my forked tongue. Now was not the time to squabble with the sovereign over who was what and what titles I deserved, not while he was so desperately attempting to keep what semblance of order within his fleet that he had left.
I could not blame the crew for being panicked either: wars were practically mythologized now, having been long since rendered obsolete with the rise of the Jurisdiction, and that felt like an eternity ago. Now, either being levied into or joining a ducal naval force was simply another career, more akin to serving as an officer of the law rather than a fully fledged soldier. Minimal training was required, most of it being the technicals of one's duty rather than any kind of combat conditioning, so expecting a fleet to actually be prepared for a combat scenario in a universe where peace was the norm was laughable.
“We are practically blind, Sovereign,” stated the Sok'klar Wayfinder, “our probes are offline, and shipboard graviton displacement sensory arrays have been rendered unreliable at best.”
“What about the particle emission array? Has there been a spike in radioactivity where we were hit?”
The Wayfinder seemed to think for a second, his gelatinous form flexing and morphing a bit before answering. “Affirmative, a jump from negligible to forty billion becquerels along decks A through E-5 on our starboard side.”
“Torpedoes…” the Sovereign hissed, stroking his barbed feelers, “Human Torpedoes. Only those primitives would rely on crude nuclear warheads.” He then turned to his militant leaders on the ship. “Noddos, Rel’ads: organize your phalanxes and prepare to repel boarders. We are bound to be assailed by those rancorous primates, and I want their skulls piled at my feet if they dare set foot on our ship.”
“Your wish is our command, Sovereign,” the two militant commanders spoke as one. Noddos, a large bipedal with multiple sets of curved spines running down his back, a pair of graceful horns sprouting from his head, and multiple rows of sharp teeth in his snout, bowed first, followed by Rel’ads, a marsupial with long saberteeth and thick fur. They both must have been fierce warriors in their own right to each lead a phalanx. They wore thick, semi-powered armor and held dueling polearms alongside their usual plasma casters, and seemed completely unfazed by the situation we were in. As they stomped out of the brightly lit bridge, I let out a quiet squawk of discontentment. “Sovereign, why haven't we jumped again? We are wasting precious time.”
“I am working on it, you spineless beaurocrat!” He warbled back, his feelers tensing in anger, “besides, it's not as if you're the one who will be spilling blood today, amanuensis, so flatten your wretched beak or I shall weld it shut with a plasma torch.
I was about to reply with something indignant, but the ship rocked again, this time causing the lights to flicker and the air to become… thick. The skin under my feathers began to blister, and I became lightheaded and confused. “Seal the damnable vents, initiate radiation scrubbers, and activate secondary life support!” Shouted the Sovereign, “Their nuclear weapons are rendering the ship inhospitable!”
I coughed up magenta blood accidentally, and I could feel more seeping from under my eyes. Some of the crew was in a similar position, but others were more resistant to radiation than I. The Sok'klar seemed completely at ease as he ran his tentacles across his morphic braille arrays before calmly announcing the ship’s status. “I've regained some control over our probes: ten, twelve, and seventeen are active and fully functional, the rest are either still malfunctioning or permanently inoperable. A rapid rise in localized radiation is also interfering with the detection of graviton displacement; we can't sense photon redirection, thus readings will remain inconclusive.
“Wayfinder, damn you, get me some kind of out here! We're easy prey until we can respond in kind!”
“Negative, something has gone awry with our processing hub, I am attempting to troubleshoot-”
And with that, the Wayfinder’s bulbous head exploded in a cascade of opaque lavender blood, covering the front half of the deck crew like a morbid art piece. Some of the crew screamed and shouted in terror before removing their cranial adaptors and choosing to interact with their displays manually. Others died just as quickly, unable to unplug in time as their brain stems fried or their blood boiled. It was a horrible way to go, having your insides neutralized by your own cybernetics, so I was glad I wasn't connected to the system.
“Cybernetic warfare! All systems are to be considered compromised, switch to manual settings or you'll be killed!”
The lights in the bridge flickered again, and the displays went haywire. The bridge crew, which obviously weren't acquainted with working without being hard-linked into the mainframe, moved at a much slower pace.
“Launch missile pods A through F and set to self-target after five hundred kilometers, then rely on their ballistic coordinates to begin firing broadsides! If we can't see the humans due to their meddling, we'll just have to feel them.” Shouted the Sovereign, “and got me a detailed report on the ship’s diagnostics readings. I need to know if this flagship is still capable of escaping or if we'll have to scuttle it and retreat on another.”
“Acknowledged, Sovereign, launching now,” affirmed another deck officer as he swiped across his own gallium output array. I could hear the dull thunk, thunk, thunk of missiles pushing out of their pods before racing off to their intended targets, then the mechanical whirring as the pods rotated to be reloaded by slaves in the lower decks. I was regaining my bearings as the many horrible sensations of being overwhelmed by radiation poisoning were beginning to subside, but I still felt as if I had been microwaved. The air was stale, the crew was horribly sick as well, and even the sovereign himself seemed to be on his last leg. I was beginning to believe that I might die here.
“Sovereign, a message from the lower decks,” shouted a communications officer, his chitin scraping against itself as he turned quickly, “they're requesting reinforcements, something about being overrun.”
“Impossible,” the Sovereign hissed out in a vain attempt to exude confidence, “We must outnumber the humans, they always go for bigger targets out of arrogance.”
“I've received reports that it's not just humans: the primates seem to make up only a third or so of the assailing force, along with some Phaeldaer and Vrex.”
The commander slammed his clawed hands down on his own output array in a fit of rage, obviously overwhelmed by the circumstances, “Then this wasn't just a typical assault, but something more sinister!” The nautiloid warbled, blood seeping from his shell as the full effects of the radiation took hold, “Get Rel’ads on the line, have him divert all spare lances to the lower decks or else we'll lose the only offensive capabilities we can use.”
“Rel'ads has gone dark, Sovereign, his vitals are critical.”
“Then either get me Rel'ads tail-leader or get me Noddos!” He screamed in rage, “don't give me this nonsense! If we don't pick it up we're all going to die, is that what you want?”
“No, Sovereign, I'm simply overwhelmed-”
“We're all overwhelmed! By the tides, I'm dying of radiation poisoning you nincompoop! Get me something I can work with!”
The officer didn't even acknowledge the Sovereign after that, simply turning back to his display. Eventually, the Sovereign was able to get Noddos on the line.
“Sovereign, two thirds of my phalanxes have been decimated by combat with the primitives and the radiation, the rest are in shambles. We must retreat and fortify elsewhere!”
“Then the ship is compromised! Rel'ads is unresponsive and the lower decks are swarming with intruders. We must evacuate the amanuensis to another ship.”
Just as the Sovereign spoke, I heard several gentle thumps rattle against the bridge’s door, and it made me uneasy. Some of the bridge crew seemed to feel the same, as they looked incredibly nervous and some even drew their sidearms. Just as the sovereign turned to give further orders, the door blew inward with a deafening explosion, followed by shouting and gunfire. Several of the bridge officers were dispatched quickly, brain matter and blood splattering against the delicate electronics. Others were shot in the legs, the torso, or in any other exotic yet non-vital body parts. The humans poured in, brandishing primitive ballistic firearms and jury-rigged energy weapons while wearing scavenged, legion-grade powered armor.
The Sovereign was the next to go, but he wasn't afforded an honorable death. He was shot along the arm with a particularly potent plasma caster, burning off his clawed hand and cauterizing the wound, the acrid smell of roasting chitin filling the already hot and cramped bridge. He fell back against his output array, the gallium reaching new highs and lows as more diagnostics and casualty reports were delivered, and he clutched his stump angrily. “I'll burn every last one of you in the foundries! I'll tie you to stakes, cover you in wax and set you alight! Your screams will be broadcasted all over the galaxy!”
One human warrior stomped up and slammed the butt of his rifle into the sovereign’s face, shattering his facial plates and causing blue blood to splatter across his section of the bridge. “Shut the fuck up, you mutant lobster,” the human said before dragging him by both antennae towards the center of the bridge and receiving a stained breeching axe from one of his comrades. “Emmanuel, start recording. We need proof.”
The other human nodded and pressed a button on his armor before lifting up his gun again. The rest of the humans fanned out, holding everyone else at gunpoint. I tried to get up and sneak out, but a human grabbed me by my neck and nearly wrung it out as he forced me to my knees and pointed a sidearm to my skull. “Get down, you piece of shit, before I blow your brains out too.”
“Damnable primate,” I hissed, but he bashed me in my skull with the base of his sidearm’s grip and sent me sprawling, making my already pounding headache worse. Another human shouted at him in a language I didn't recognize, but he sounded furious. The first brought me back up to my knees again, and I complies with a hiss and a groan, blood still leaking from my eyes and mouth and my world was spinning.
The Sovereign struggled, but he was weak from the radiation poisoning and he couldn't exactly resist on account of his lost arm. The human with the breaching ax kicked the Sovereign down and forced him to kneel before lifting up the breeching ax and splitting his chitinous head down the middle with one powerful swing, sending more blood and brains across the floor. “Execution confirmed, take his antennae just in case and we've got ourselves a bounty. Now all we need is that ugly cat’s teeth and the fat hedgehog-thing’s grimy spines and we'll be in business. Although, they do have skulls… we might as well just take their heads.”
The real horror of the situation dawned on me at that moment: they were going to kill us all, or maybe worse. They mentioned a bounty for the commanders, and multiple of the higher ranking ship officers were already dead, their brains splattered against the walls or their bodies torn apart by gunfire. I wasn't dead yet, but that didn't mean much since I wasn't an immediate threat.
“Alright, round them up and bring all the grunts to the hanger bay, then kill the rest,” the leader of the humans said in such a lackadaisical manner that his complete disregard for life almost made me sick… almost. I had seen worse from the Jurisdiction before, but usually that was from me delivering some kind of ordered judgment on a world that had sinned against order. I might have simply been the messenger, but I had seen many of the outcomes. “And make sure to collect whatever proof of bounties you can, we'll need to deliver them to the office to get cashed out. Don't let this be a repeat of last time where Juarez fucking forgot to take a few heads and it ended up cutting our profits in half, the fucking retard.”
Some of the humans chuckled at that as they dragged more of the senior officers away, out of the room and into the hall,where I heard gunshots. The rest of the bridge crew froze in place, different fear instincts kicking in. The remaining Sok'klar corralled together into what seemed to be a singular, semi-congealed mass as if to try and trick the humans into believing that they were much bigger and much more threatening than they actually were. The one Thei’chi on the bridge, an ensign who had clearly thought this would be a simple mission, bore her curved fangs at the humans and growled as they approached, her hackles completely vertical and her eyes dilated. They quickly muzzled and bound her before beating her over the head with a gun stock, sending her sprawling onto the ground. Many others simply cooperated, eyes wide and yet simultaneously empty, as if they couldn't quite process that the ship had been taken and the commanding officers were being executed as the rest were escorted to the hangar.
“Get the damn messenger down to the hanger as well, we need whatever data's in his ugly lizard head, then we can decide on what to do with him.”
I spat at him in spite, as if to try and seem brave, but it was clearly an empty gesture. “You won't get anything, primate! You couldn't possibly crack the encryption!”
The human holding me seemed to wind up for another swing, but the commanding officer simply held up his hand to stop my tormentor before strolling over to me. He knelt down and removed his helmet, revealing a beige-colored face covered in scars, wiry black hair cut down to the scalp, and multiple tattoos. “You're really fucking mouthy for a hostage,” he said before punching me across my beak faster than I could register. I heard a sharp crack as his fist connected, and my head spun again as the metallic taste of blood pooled into my mouth. “I'd advise you to shut up, but I'm sure you won't listen: you aristocratic types are so full of yourselves. Maybe I should have you flogged in the public square until your vocal chords give out once we rip those cybernetics from your head, huh? How's that sound?”
“It won't matter… it won't change anything… the Jurisdiction will hunt you down.”
“Maybe, but I doubt it will happen for some time: they really suck at doing anything that requires effort, even when they're mad enough. They just keep sending their rabid lapdogs to try and smoke us out, and they always end up full of holes,” the human officer said with a smirk, his yellowish-white teeth and green eyes sending shivers down my spine as he drew his knife. “They're just horrible at their job, you know? You've all gotten so lazy and incompetent after being able to just take what you want without resistance, and now that you've met people who are angry and crazy enough to fight back you act as if we're committing some grave injustice,” he placed the knife against my throat, the flat just underneath my now bent beak, “No, we just took a few pages out of your book, ‘cept we've got standards. No kids, for one…” he seemed to look off into the distance as his sneer deepened, “but it's more than that, we don't attack the defenseless in general and we still win against you all in fair fights.”
I went to say something else snarky, but he quickly grabbed my thin tongue with his fingers and yanked it out, blood from my mouth pulling to the floor as he held the blade of his knife against it. “No no, none of that. Say one more thing and I'll cut that rancid little tongue of yours out of your mouth and feed it to you,” he hissed at me, pressing the blade down just hard enough to draw blood. “Do you know what it's like to see a planet turn into a tomb?" he asked me, gritting his teeth, “Do you know what it's like to see everything you've ever known crumble to ash and glass, all the life and the green stripped away leaving nothing but bones? I do. I've seen it happen to countless worlds, and my grandfather always told me stories of how you bastards did it to Earth. He still prays in its direction five times a day, to Mecca, but he knows the Kaaba is gone now, or maybe it's still there, buried in the bones of those who sought refuge there.”
I didn't care for the human’s nonsensical beliefs, but I did care to correct him. “I've seen it before, and I'll see it again. And so will you, it's inevitable. The Jurisdiction will always have its judgment fulfilled, there is no alternative.”
“One day, I hope we can rectify that,” he said, then he sheathed his knife and slammed my head against the metal floor with enough force to nearly knock me out. As I lost consciousness, I could hear him speak. “Take him to the Chop Doc, and make sure the cybernetics don't get damaged: they're supposedly more valuable than any bounty on this ship.”
Warning: Severe radiation poisoning detected. Flush system immediately.
Warning: Neural Lace removal detected, chance of neurological damage high. Proceeded with caution.

I wait a little before taunting and he does a grab. I press back before taunt, it's a grab. It just doesn't work.
Also you can't buffer jet upper after blocking rage arts anymore? Wasn't the case in T7. What's up with that?

I will be getting custom infraorbital implants for the under eye area, I believe this will resolve the hollowness problem and occasional minor sclera show.
The upper is a more complex problem with a deep superior sulcus and a wrinkled appearance of the eyelid. I would appreciate any advice on the procedure options I’m evaluating:

1. Fillers - the most accessible option but I do not see any before and after cases going from such severe hollowness to hooded or near-hooded eyes. Maybe an excessive (impractical) amount of filler would be needed. Long term expensive to maintain.
   
2. Upper eyelid blepharoplasty. Unsure if this is needed in my case but it’s a relatively minor one-off procedure anyway.
   
3. Fat grafting, used in much the same way as fillers but theoretically permanent and without the risk of migration.
   
4. Supraorbital drop down implants, I could have these added at the same time as my infraorbital implants to minimise cost and recovery. Unsure if they would really address the problem.
   
5. I successfully used Botox in the past to lower my eyebrow position by about 2mm, not enough on its own and would cost quite a lot to maintain. However I’m at an age where I need forehead Botox regardless.
   
6. Combination of the above.
   

Is there anything on this list that either stands out as inappropriate or highly indicated? Are there other options that I have missed?

I am grateful to the Greatly Merciful and Greatly Compassionate Guan Yin Bodhisattva for offering me this precious opportunity to share my experience of practising Buddhism with you.
I am 62 years old. Today, I can eat, sleep and walk like a normal person. However, did you know that I once was a paralyzed woman who could not even get up from bed, had difficulty turning over, and could not take care of myself? Through practising Buddhism and reciting Buddhist scriptures, I have completely freed myself from the misery of hell. I want to tell you with hard facts that practising Buddhism and reciting the scriptures has not only given me a second life, but has also benefited me immensely. I want to share with you how I transformed myself from paralysis to health within four years without undergoing any surgery! May my presentation plant the seeds of bodhi in your hearts, so that more people will have faith in Guan Yin Bodhisattva who has boundless supernatural power, and recite Buddhist scriptures as soon as possible to be free from suffering and gain happiness!
1. When I was young, I opened two bars so I created bad karma, and karmic retribution is right on my heels!
I am the eldest daughter of my family and the eldest daughter-in-law of my in-laws family. Both my mother and mother-in-law are Buddhist practitioners and urged me to practise Buddhism as well. However, because of my youthful ambition and good fortune, at the age of about 36, I ran two bars and enjoyed the pleasure of earning money, not bothering to practise Buddhism at all. By then, I was young and foolish, in the bars I gained filthy money by means of woman’s charms, which invariably created a lot of bad karma. How many people lost their morals and conscience for my sake of monetary gain? How many families have been broken up behind the scenes? How many people have done many things against ethics and morality under the paralysis of alcohol? I hereby express my deepest repentance to Guan Yin Bodhisattva! Karmic retribution is inescapable. I planted the evil cause so I reap the evil effect. The bad karma I created within two years of running the bars has brought me a tragic retribution 13 years later! (So, dear fellow practitioners, please take this as a warning!)
In 2010, I was 49, my predestined 369 calamity arrived. One day in July, my karma exploded. I suddenly collapsed at home kitchen while stirring frying vegetables. In an instant, I felt that the sky was falling, and I had nowhere to turn for help. An otherwise healthy me entered a life of hell on earth from then on. Every day, I ate, drank, pooped and peed in bed, had difficulty turning over, couldn't wash my hands and face, had trouble swallowing, so it was worse than death. I was paralyzed in bed from then on. The doctor said I had a herniated disc in my lower back. All the bones in my back were misaligned. Both knee bones were necrotic and so swollen. I have visited all the local city and provincial hospitals, big and small, to seek medical care. I almost spent all the several hundreds of thousands of RMB I had gained from my bar business. However, the condition got worse and worse.
2. Since encountering the excellent Guan Yin Citta Dharma Door, I have been practicing Buddhism hard to overcome any obstacles on the way and finally achieved a new life.
Perhaps it was the blessing from my family members who had been making offerings to the Buddha and practising Buddhism for years. Thanks to the mercy of Guan Yin Bodhisattva, I finally encountered the Guan Yin Citta Dharma Door in 2012 when I was in the most desperate situation in my life. The person next door to my bar heard that I was sick and came to see me. She brought me Buddhist scripture, recitation device, Buddhism in Plain Terms, counters and many other Dharma gems. She told me the Guan Yin Citta Dharma Door was very efficacious, and asked me to try it. Although I could not move on bed, I listened all Master Lu's recordings like a thirst. I was pleasantly surprised to hear cases of patients who had been cured of cancer and serious illnesses by practising Buddhism and reciting the scriptures. The recordings of Master Lu's programs were like a bright beacon in the darkness, bringing me hope for life and giving me great encouragement. I felt I was awakened by a powerful energy, stirring up my strong desire to live. I told myself: I must survive; I must save myself! I started to practice Buddhism and recite scriptures as if I had grabbed a lifeline.
I am illiterate, so I had to lie in bed every day and learn to recite word by word with the recitation device. Due to the heavy karma, there was no virtuous and the high-minded practitioner around to teach me how to burn the Little Houses in a rational and lawful way. I foolishly took an ashtray instead of a plate to burn the Little Houses, which resulted in the ashtray blowing up. In order to eliminate karma quickly, I was foolishly reciting the Heart Sutra and Amitabha Pure Land Rebirth Mantra after ten o'clock at night, which resulted in the light bulbs breaking several times (Here, I sincerely remind my fellow practitioners: Master Lu enlightened us not to recite the Heart Sutra and Amitabha Pure Land Rebirth Mantra after ten o'clock at night. Please make sure to read the Introduction to Guan Yin Citta Dharma Door carefully in order to avoid practising Buddhism irrationally). Therefore, we must follow the instructions of Master Lu, and never do what the Master does not allow us to do. The whole process of reciting Buddhist scriptures to eliminate karma is very bumpy. It is really easy to create karma, but very hard to eliminate it! However, I firmly believed that the Bodhisattva is infinitely powerful. As long as I diligently practised Buddhism, my fate would definitely get changed. Hence, I relied on the blissful cases in Master Lu's recordings as my spiritual support. I kept persevering, not afraid of any difficulties, and recklessly recited Buddhist scriptures.
Since I ate, drank and pooped in bed, my aura was very bad. As I could not get up by myself, so I had to lie in bed to recite the sacred Buddhist scriptures. I felt guilty and torn, wondering if this was the appropriate way to recite the sacred Buddhist scriptures. Will it affect the effect of the recitation? Gratitude to Guan Yin Bodhisattva for Her compassion, and I dreamed of Master Lu that night. Master Lu who was dressed in a black suit smiled at me and kindly comforted me: “don't worry.” After I woke up, I was very grateful for Master Lu's compassion. Master Lu knew about my special situation, so this is a sympathy and a condolence to me. After I recited Buddhist scriptures 4 to 5 months late, my neck and head were able to turn significantly. Such a Dharma blissful change thrilled me. All the trials and perseverance I had gone through in the past had not been in vain. Guan Yin Bodhisattva has boundless supernatural power, which had given me a glimmer of hope for recovery! (Here, I sincerely remind my fellow practitioners: In the absence of illness, recitation of Buddhist scriptures must be respectful. A point of respect harvests a point of benefit.)
3. The unique characteristics of attending the Dharma conference and formally acknowledging Jun Hong Lu as my master allow my physical health to improve with Dharma joy
In February 2017, I befriended a fellow practitioner. She invited me to attend the Macau Dharma Convention together. I thought to myself: “can I take the bus by myself?” “Can I attend the conference?” With a strong faith from my inner heart, I attended the conference via keeping reciting the Great Compassion Mantra on the trip. Unbelievably, I arrived at the conference as I wished with the blessing and protection of Guan Yin Bodhisattva, although my bulky legs could only barely support my body in the seat. I was in tears when I listened Master Lu's wise words and saw the holy icon of Guan Yin Bodhisattva. On the night of the conference, I dreamed of Guan Yin Bodhisattva! Gratitude to Greatly Merciful and Greatly Compassionate Guan Yin Bodhisattva for saving me from suffering and giving me a new life. At the end of the Macau Dharma Convention, I instantly made two vows: to be a vegetarian for 15 days per month and liberate 10,000 fish.
Before I attended the Macau Dharma Convention, I had to take a break whenever I walked two steps, and my body was not able to move much. After returning, my legs started to become strong enough to support my body and I could walk on flat ground. Despite they were not very flexible, they were no longer the same as when I was paralyzed like a limp in bed. My whole body is getting better and better in essence, vital energy, and spirit. I was very surprised! Master Lu has enlightened that there are many Buddhas and Bodhisattvas coming to bless attendees at each Dharma conference!
In August 2017, before the Dharma Convention in Malaysia, my fellow practitioners urged me to formally acknowledge Jun Hong Lu as my master. Since I am an illiterate, compassionate fellow practitioners helped me to fill out the application form of seeking discipleship. My fellow practitioners told me that there were so many people wanted to formally acknowledge Jun Hong Lu as their master that I might not be able to reach my wish this time. Then, I had to wait for the opportunity next Dharma Convention. I told myself that whether I could reach my wish or not this time, I would actively participate in Master Lu’s Dharma Convention. Considering my age, it is a blessing for me to attend one more Dharma Convention. To my surprise, one week later, my application for seeking discipleship was approved. Gratitude to Greatly Merciful and Greatly Compassionate Guan Yin Bodhisattva!
On the day of seeking discipleship, I was very excited. During the process of seeking discipleship, I heard a voice in stereo that was very loud. When I opened my eyes, I was surprised to see Tathagata Buddha, and many other Bodhisattvas coming down from heaven. At that moment, I saw that the upper half of Master Lu's Dharmakaya appeared transparent with a huge lotus flower. I was suddenly moved to tears. I was oblivious to the fact that Master Lu had come to my side until the time of issuing the discipleship certificate. Master Lu was very compassionate and empowered me with blessing. Master Lu enlightened, "Because five people opened their eyes during the worship ceremony, they have no lotuses planted in the pure land. But it's okay, when the ceremony is over, you can go to the front and kowtow to ask the Bodhisattva (to plant a lotus)." I then rushed to the front to worship. Before I finished worshiping Bodhisattva, a young fellow practitioner came over. He asked, "How do you feel? Did you see anything?" I said, "I saw Tathagata Buddha." He asked, "How are you sure that was Tathagata Buddha?" I said, "Both my mother and mother-in-law are Buddhist disciples, and Tathagata Buddha has curly hair."
I was grateful for the compassionate blessing from Guan Yin Bodhisattva and Master Lu. When I returned home after seeking discipleship, I made two vows: to be a vegetarian for the rest of my life and never kill (animals). The power of a vow outweighs the force of karma. After I made the vows, Master Lu’s Dharmakaya came to help me heal my legs in my dreams. Once, I saw Master Lu’s Dharmakaya passing by my room while I was half-squinted. Master Lu asked me, "Which foot is uncomfortable? Where is aching?" Instantly I woke up and then I found that my feet didn't feel as heavy as they used to be and I walked more lightly. I excitedly shared the news with my old father, "Master Lu has come to bless me again!" I am grateful to Master Lu for his compassionate care for every sentient being. Every time I dreamed of Master Lu, he would always compassionately endow me with abundance of blessing, and I was always surprised by the improvement in my health.
In a short time, I could not only separate my feet and take turns to walk up and down the stairs independently. Moreover, I could bend back and forth freely with my arms crossed. The bones in my back, which were all misaligned and uneven, were now completely normal again. Previously, I couldn't raise my hands to wash my face, brush my teeth or comb my hair because the bones in my back would pull the nerves and cause severe pain when I raised my hands. In those days, whenever I sneezed or defecated, I felt like to cheat death on pain. In those hellish day I went through unimaginable pain and suffering. Now, however, I can take care of myself completely and move around freely. Sometimes I get a little tired after walking for too long, but I can recover after 10 minutes of rest in bed. Although it is still slightly bumpy while I was walking, if you don't look closely, you can't see it. My family was overwhelmed to see the dramatic change from being paralyzed and bedridden to walking independently since I practised Buddhism. My old father, who was taking care of me at the bedside, complimented me straight away: you have completely changed, becoming healthier and healthier now! I was so excited that I had tears in my eyes. Without the rescue of Greatly Compassionate Guan Yin Bodhisattva and Master Lu, I really wouldn't have the blissful transformation I have today!
In 2019, at the Dharma conferences of Indonesia and Singapore, I pleaded with my fellow practitioners to be merciful to give me the opportunity to volunteer. According to the rules of the Dharma conference, I was already overage. However, I was adamant that I must do volunteer work. Guan Yin Bodhisattva has given me a second life, so I have to serve all sentient beings physically. I am grateful for Greatly Compassionate Guan Yin Bodhisattva who helped me out. When I came back from the conferences, I found that I could bend and squat easily and freely, and I had no problem even sitting on the floor. I am grateful to Guan Yin Bodhisattva for compassionately helping me to eliminate my karma at every conference, so that I can obtain incredible blessings and improvement occur every time.
4. The incredible blessing of setting up the Buddhist altar accelerated my health recovery and created a medical miracle.
From the time I set up the Buddhist altar in 2017, I insisted on offering Bodhisattvas incenses morning and evening every day. At first, the body was still straight and could not bend and bow. For two years, in front of the Buddhist altar, I prayed for Bodhisattvas to bless me so that I could recover my health a little better so I can use my own experience as an example to convince sentient beings to gain faith on Dharma and practise Dharma. Gradually, I was able to stand to offer incense to Bodhisattvas, to bend and bow, and finally to kneel in front of the Buddhist altar to recite the scriptures. I was full of Dharma joy! Initially, my back still hurt from kneeling. With the karmic obstacles being removed, my back didn't hurt anymore. Sometimes when I went out with fellow practitioners to set up the Buddhist altar, particularly on the Buddha's Birthday, I could kneel to recite the Eighty-eight Buddhas Great Repentance for an hour and a half. My fellow practitioners couldn't keep it up, so I was the only one who kept it up until the end. I am so grateful to Guan Yin Bodhisattva for Her compassionate blessing!
At one time, the doctor at the provincial hospital told me that I had to have surgery to put two steel plates into the bone, but I refused. Because I firmly believe that with the of blessings of Guan Yin Bodhisattva and Master Lu, I am afraid of nothing. Buddha is an extraordinary doctor. The only way to recover completely is to repent sincerely and practise Buddhism. I can now move as freely as a normal person. This medical miracle achieved was completely relied on practising Buddhism, reciting scriptures, being a vegetarian, helping new practitioners to set up Buddhist altars, volunteering at Dharma conferences, and actively propagating the Dharma. To improve my family economic financial, I went out to work on construction sites as a helper, do cleaning and housekeeping!
Those patients who were once slightly paralyzed did not recover as quickly and well as I did, even with surgery.
Dear readers, when you see such a dramatic change in me, what are you hesitating for? Hurry up and pick up the Buddhist scriptures to recite! I am the living example, the ironclad evidence. Guan Yin Bodhisattva does exist, and She is Greatly Merciful and Greatly Compassionate, answers any prayers.
Thinking of the bad karma I created in the two bars when I was young, I feel grievously sinful. I have earned ill-gotten wealth, but the karma was produced, and karmic retribution is inescapable. If one hasn't been retributed, the time hasn't come yet. After I got old, all the retribution came to me. Not only did I use up all my money, but I also had to suffer from physical illness and paralysis. I advise everyone to remember Master Lu's enlightenment: Do not do anything that is evil; Do not fail to do good no matter how petty the deed; Do not engage in evil no matter how trivial the deed. Dear readers, please consider it carefully before earning any money, and don’t commit such deep sins as I did for the sake of monetary gain, or else the consequences will follow you!
Without the merciful salvation and blessings of Guan Yin Bodhisattva and Master Lu, I would not have been reborn today! I made a few great wows: honour the teacher and respect his teachings, live an ascetic life for lifetime, be a vegetarian lifetime, not kill, not eat eggs, not smoke, not drink; transcend the cycle of rebirth for good and attain enlightenment in one lifetime. In this life, I will follow Guan Yin Bodhisattva to cultivate my mind and change my behaviour and never quit. I will follow my benefactor, the Compassionate father, Master Lu, to propagate Guan Yin Citta Dharma Door and never stop! Although I am over 60 years, I will continue using my own experience as an example to convince sentient beings to gain faith on Dharma and practise Buddhism. Together with my fellow practitioners, I will get up early and go home late to help set up Buddha altars for new practitioners. No matter how far and how difficult the trip is, I will always be strict with myself. I will go wherever I am needed. Even if I am eating, as soon as I receive a mission for propagating Dharma, I will put down my chopsticks and set off without delay.
Guan Yin Citta Dharma Door is peerlessly efficacious, and Guan Yin Bodhisattva is Greatly Merciful and Greatly Compassionate, saves beings from suffering, has supernatural power, and answer all prayers. As long as we have a devout heart and we persist in reciting Buddhist scriptures and practicing Buddhism, no difficulty can defeat us! My physical changes are the most powerful evidence! May my true presentation give some inspiration to those people who are still suffering from illnesses, so that they can acquire faith to practising Buddhism, and pick up the Buddhist scriptures to recite. May more sentient beings having affinity with Buddha break free from delusion and attain enlightenment, balance egoism and altruism, and free from suffering and gain happiness.
My deepest gratitude to the Greatly Merciful and Greatly Compassionate Guan Yin Bodhisattva!
My deepest gratitude to all Buddhas and Bodhisattvas from ten directions and three periods of time!
My deepest gratitude to the Dharma protectors!
My deepest gratitude to the selfless and altruistic Master Jun Hong Lu!
If there is anything that is not rational or in line with the truth in the presentation, I’d like to seek forgiveness from the Greatly Merciful and Greatly Compassionate Guan Yin Bodhisattva, all Buddhas and Bodhisattvas, Dharma protectors, and Master Jun Hong Lu.
I’d also like to seek forgiveness from my fellow Buddhist practitioners.
I, not my fellow practitioners, will be responsible for my own karma!
Shared by: Dharma Practitioner Ganen, Gratitude and Namaste!
Translated by: Frank
Statement by Translator

1. Story was translated from Chinese into English by meaning, not word by word. If there is anything that is not rational or in line with the true meaning of the Chinese version, I’d like to seek forgiveness from the Greatly Merciful and Greatly Compassionate Guan Yin Bodhisattva, all Buddhas and Bodhisattvas, Dharma protectors and Master Jun Hong Lu.
   
2. Author Ganen was interviewed by Frank during the translation for the detailed information.
   

Propagation
It would be greatly appreciated if you would forward this presentation to all sentient beings you know, sick or healthy. You will accumulate immeasurable merits and virtues. Saving a life is more meritorious than building a seven-floor pagoda!
Would you like to change your destiny?
We will show you how to do the Five Golden Buddhist Practices of Guan Yin Citta Dharma Door: (1) making vows, (2) reciting Buddhist scriptures (sutras and mantras), (3) performing life liberation, (4) reading Buddhism in Plain Terms, and (5) repenting. You will personally witness how you and your family can achieve physical and mental stability, relief from illness and grievances, wisdom growth, academic progress, career advancement, and family happiness through Dharma. It’s free of charge.
Contact
Buddhist practitioner: Lily
Email: [sunnypurplelily@gmail.com](mailto:sunnypurplelily@gmail.com)
WeChat: HanJing20210820
原文如下:
从瘫痪卧床到行走自如做家政，心灵法门创造了医学奇迹
感恩南无大慈大悲救苦救难广大灵感观世音菩萨摩诃萨！
感恩十方三世一切诸佛菩萨！
感恩龙天护法金刚菩萨！
感恩恩师慈父卢军宏台长！
感恩师兄们！
感恩大慈大悲观世音菩萨慈悲，让我能有这个宝贵的机会与大家分享我的学佛经历。我今年62岁，现在是一个能吃、能睡、能走路的正常人了。但是，你们可曾知道，曾经，我是一个连床都起不了、翻身都困难，生活完全无法自理的瘫痪老人！如今，通过学佛念经，我把自己从地狱的苦海里完全挣脱了出来。我要用铁一般的事实告诉大家：学佛念经不仅给了我第二次生命，更让我受益无穷。我要跟大家分享，在这患病的四年里，在没有经历任何手术的情况下，如何让自己从瘫痪到健康的蜕变！愿我今天的分享给有缘人种下菩提种子，让更多的人相信观世音菩萨法力无边，早日学佛念经，离苦得乐！
1. 年轻时开酒吧造恶业，得现世报！
我是家中的长女、婆家的长媳。母亲和婆婆都是学佛人，都劝我也学佛。但是，由于年轻时好胜心强，加之财运不错，36岁左右，我经营两家酒吧，享受挣钱的快乐，根本无心学佛。年轻愚痴的我经营酒吧时靠女色来赚取黑钱，赚的都是不正之财，无形中造了很多恶业。在这种灯红酒绿中生活，我为了金钱利益，让多少人丧失了自己的道德与良知？背后又造成多少个家庭的破裂？又有多少人在酒精的麻痹下做出多少违背伦理道德的事情？弟子在此向观世音菩萨深深忏悔！因果报应丝毫不爽，种恶因得恶果。开酒吧这两年中我所造下的恶业，在十几年后让我得到悲惨的现世报！所以，请大家引以为戒！
2010年我49岁，正逢“三六九”关劫。7月的一天，我的业障大爆发，在家炒菜时突然间倒下。瞬间，我感觉天塌下来，叫天天不应，叫地地不灵。一个原本健康的我从此进入人间地狱般的生活。每天，我吃喝拉撒都在床上，翻身都很困难，没法自己洗手洗脸，吞咽困难，简直生不如死。我从此瘫痪在床。医生说我是腰椎间盘突出。后背的所有骨头都错位。两个膝盖骨头坏死，肿得很大。当地市里、省里大大小小的医院我都看过了。我几乎把我做酒吧生意所赚到的几十万块钱都花光了。然而，病情越来越严重。
2. 得遇殊胜法门，坎坷学佛路中坚持不懈地修行换来重生
也许是家人一直供佛学佛的福德。承蒙观世音菩萨慈悲，在我人生绝境之时，我终于在2012年得遇心灵法门。以前我开店隔壁的人听说我病倒了，就来看我。她给我送来了经书、念佛机、《白话佛法》、计数器等很多法宝。她告诉我心灵法门很灵验，让我试试。我躺在床上虽然无法动弹，却如饥似渴地把师父的录音听了个遍。听到人们通过学佛念经把癌症、重症都治愈的案例，我惊喜万分。师父的节目录音就像黑暗中的一盏明灯，让我看到了生活的希望，给了我很大的鼓舞。在这个过程中我像被一股强大的能量加持唤醒，激起了求生的强烈欲望。我告诉自己：我一定要活过来；我一定要自己救自己！我像抓住了救命稻草似地开始拼命学佛念经。
我不识字，只能每天躺在床上跟着念佛机一字一句地学着念。由于业力牵引，身边没有遇到善知识教我如理如法地烧送小房子。愚痴的我曾拿个烟灰缸代替盘子烧送经文组合小房子，结果烟灰缸炸掉了。为了抓紧时间消业，我晚上十点后还在念《心经》和《往生咒》，结果家里的灯坏了好几次（趁此机会我诚心提醒师兄们：师父开示，晚上十点后不要念诵《心经》和《往生咒》，请师兄们一定要好好看《心灵法门入门手册》，避免操作不如理不如法）。所以，我们一定要听师父的话，师父不让做的就不做。念经消业的整个过程非常坎坷。真是造业容易，消业难啊！但是，我坚信菩萨法力无边，只要精进努力，一定会得到改变的。于是，我依靠师父录音中的法喜案例作为精神支撑。我一直坚持不懈，不怕万难，拼命念经。
由于吃喝拉撒都在床上，气场非常不好，自己又无法起身，只能躺在床上念经。我内心愧疚又纠结，不知道这样念经是否如理如法？会不会影响念经效果？感恩菩萨慈悲，当晚我就梦见师父了。师父身穿着黑西装，一边慈祥地笑着一边安慰我：不要担心。醒来后，我非常感恩师父的慈悲。师父知道我的特殊情况，这是对我的宽容和安慰啊。后来，大概念经差不多4～5个月后，我的脖子和头也能明显地转动了。这样法喜的变化，让我激动万分。我过去所经历的磨难与坚持都没有白费。观世音菩萨法力无边，让我看到了康复的一丝希望！（作者提醒：师兄们，在没有病痛的情况下，念经一定要体态恭敬，一分恭敬一分受益。）
3. 参加法会与拜师的殊胜，让我的身体不断法喜蜕变
2017年2月份，我结识了一位师兄。她邀请我一起去参加澳门法会。我心想：我能自己坐车吗？能去法会吗？凭着内心坚定的信念，路途中我一直念《大悲咒》。虽然我笨重的双腿只能勉强支撑着身体坐在座位上，但在观世音菩萨一路加持护佑下，我竟然能够如愿到了法会现场。现场听到师父开示、看到观世音菩萨的圣像，我泪如雨下。大法会当天晚上，我就梦到了观世音菩萨！感恩大慈大悲救苦救难观世音菩萨救我于苦海，给了我新的生命和生活。澳门法会结束，我当即发愿：一个月吃素15天，放生一万条鱼。参加澳门法会前，只要走两步路我就要歇一歇，而且我的身体没办法大幅度活动。
澳门法会回来后，我的双腿开始变得有力，可以支撑起身子在平地上走路了。虽然还不是很灵活，但是比起原来像软泥一样瘫痪在床的状态，已经不可同年而语了。我整个人精、气、神也越来越好。我非常惊喜！师父开示过，每场法会有很多佛菩萨来加持大家！
2017年8月，马来西亚法会前，师兄们让我拜师，但我不识字。慈悲的师兄们帮助我代笔填写拜师申请表。师兄们告诉我，这次拜师的人太多，有可能排不上队，得等到下一场法会才有机会。我告诉自己，无论这次能不能拜师，我都一定积极参加师父的法会。我这么大年纪了，能参加多一场法会都是我的福报啊。让我惊喜的是，一个星期后，我的拜师申请通过了。感恩观世音菩萨慈悲！
拜师当天，我激动万分。在拜师过程中，我听到一个非常立体、非常响亮的声音。我睁开眼睛时，我竟然看到了如来佛祖，还有好多菩萨都从天上下来了。这时，我看到师父上半身的法身呈现透明状，有一朵大大的莲花。我顿时感动得泪如雨下。直到颁发弟子证的时候，我浑然不觉师父已经走到我的身边。师父非常慈悲，给我灌顶加持。师父说:“因为拜师过程中有5个人睁开了眼睛，所以莲花没有种上去。不过没关系，等拜师仪式结束后，可以到前面去磕头求菩萨。”我就赶紧跑到前面去拜。我还没拜完，就过来了一个年轻师兄。他问我：“您感觉怎么样？有没有看到什么？” 我告诉他：“我看到如来佛祖了。” 他说：“您怎么确定那是如来佛祖呢？”我说：”我家母和家婆是学佛人，如来佛祖头发卷卷的。”
感恩观世音菩萨与师父的慈悲加持。拜师结束回家我就发愿: 终生吃全素，不杀生。真是愿力大于业力，发愿后，师父又来梦里帮我治疗双腿。有一次，我半眯着眼睛看到师父从我的房间经过。师父问我：“还有哪只脚不舒服？还有哪个地方疼痛的？” 瞬间我就醒了，醒来我发现我的双脚没有了原来的沉重感，走起路来更加轻盈了。我激动地跟老父亲分享：“师父又来加持我啦！”感恩师父慈悲关怀着每一位众生。每次梦见师父，师父都慈悲给予加持，我的身体总会有惊喜的好转。
没过多久，我不仅可以分开双脚，轮流迈开步伐独立上下楼梯。而且，我双手叉腰，可以前后自如地弯腰。后背的骨头原本因为全部错位并高低不平，如今完全恢复正常了。原本我没办法把手举起来洗脸、刷牙和梳头，因为手一抬，后背的骨头扯神经会导致剧烈的疼痛。每次打喷嚏或排泄的时候，都有种痛不欲生的感觉，就像死里逃生一样。这种地狱般的日子让我历经常人难以想象的苦痛折磨。然而现在，我的生活可以完全自理并且行动自如。有时候走太久会有一点点累，但是卧床休息十几分钟就可以恢复过来。虽然走路还有一点点高低现象，但如果不仔细看，是看不出来的。看到我学佛念经以来，从瘫痪卧床到独立行走的巨大变化，我的家人无比震惊。当年在床头边照顾我的老父亲直夸我：现在整个人完全变了，变得越来越健康了！我激动得泪眼婆娑。没有观世音菩萨与师父的大慈大悲救苦救难，真的不会有我今天的法喜蜕变！
2019年印尼法会和新加坡法会上，我恳请师兄们慈悲给我做义工的机会。按照法会规定，我已经超龄了。但是，我坚决一定要做义工。观世音菩萨给了我第二次生命，我就要身体力行地为众生服务。感恩观世音菩萨的慈悲，让我能如愿以偿。从法会做完义工回来，我发现我可以轻松自如地弯腰和下蹲，就连坐在地板上也没有问题了。感恩菩萨每次法会上都慈悲帮我消业，让我每次都能有不可思议的加持，变化。
4. 设佛台的不可思议加持，加速我身体恢复健康，创造医学奇迹
从2017年设佛台起，我每天坚持上早晚香。起初，身体还是直直的，不能弯腰鞠躬。两年里，我每天在佛台前上香求菩萨加持，让我身体能恢复得更好一些，能为众生表法。慢慢地，我从站着上香到弯腰鞠躬，到最后可以跪在佛台前念经。真是法喜充满啊！刚开始跪着后背还是很痛。随着业障的消除，我的后背也不疼痛了。有时候和师兄们出去设佛台，遇到佛诞日，我跪着念诵《礼佛大忏悔文》足足有一个半小时的时间。许多师兄都坚持不下来，唯独我坚持到结束。真是感恩菩萨慈悲加持！
曾经，省医院的医生告诉我，必须做手术把两块钢板放进骨头里，但我回绝了。因为我坚信有观世音菩萨和师父两座靠山，我什么都不怕。在因果面前，佛是大药王。唯有诚心忏悔，学佛修行才能彻底康复。我完全靠学佛念经吃素、设佛台、参加法会做义工，积极弘法度人，才创造了医学奇迹：现在和正常人一样行动自如。我甚至去工地做小工，搞卫生、做家政弥补家用！那些曾经轻微瘫痪的患者就算做手术，也没有我恢复得快，恢复到如此好的状态。
读者朋友们，你们看到我如此天翻地覆的变化，还犹豫什么呢？赶快捧起经书念经吧！我就是活生生的例子，铁一般的证据。观世音菩萨真实存在，并且大慈大悲有求必应啊！
现在回想起年轻时开酒吧所造下的恶业，真是罪孽深重。不正之财赚到了，可是，因果报应丝毫不爽，不是不报，时候未到。在我人到老年时，所有的报应一涌而来。不但钱财全部用尽，还要遭受肉体病痛的瘫痪之苦，因果不空啊！奉劝大家一定要谨记师父的教诲：诸恶莫作，众善奉行！不以善小而不为；不以恶小而为之！挣任何钱财之前都要三思，切记不可为了金钱利益而像我一样造下如此深重的罪孽，否则果报如影随形！
没有观世音菩萨和师父的慈悲救度与加持，就没有我今天的重生！弟子许愿尊师重道、一生清修、终生吃全素、不杀生、不吃鸡蛋、不抽烟、不喝酒；一世修成，永断轮回。今生跟着观世音菩萨修心修行，永不退转。跟着恩师慈父卢军宏台长弘扬心灵法门永不停息！我虽然60多岁了，但是我要身体力行地为大家表法，起早贪黑地和共修组师兄们一起去助缘设佛台。无论路程多么遥远，多么艰辛，我都严格要求自己。哪里需要我，我就走到哪里。哪怕我在吃饭，只要接到弘法任务，我一定当即放下筷子，一刻也不能耽误地出发。
心灵法门灵验无比，观世音菩萨大慈大悲，救苦救难，法力无边，有求必应。只要我们有一颗虔诚的心，只要我们坚持念经修行，没有什么困难可以打倒我们！我的身体变化就是最有力的证据！愿我的真实分享给那些还在受着病痛折磨的人们一些启发，让大家生起学佛念经的信念，捧起经书念经，愿更多的有缘众生能够早日破迷开悟，自利利他，离苦得乐！
我的分享结束了，分享中如有不如理不如法的地方，请观世音菩萨慈悲原谅！请十方三世一切诸佛菩萨和龙天护法菩萨慈悲原谅！请师父慈悲原谅！请师兄们批评指正！我自己的业障自己背，不让师兄们背！感恩合十！
分享人：感恩～全素
2022-02-28
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