My friend’s mom really needs to learn how to take care of their turtles and I need help helping them so the turtles don’t suffer any longer. Here’s their “tank” specs:
-2 turtles: 1 red eared slider that I think is female based on size 1 other turtle that I don’t recognize the species but possibly male since it’s a bit smaller than the other but could just be a smaller species
-2 half cinder block pieces that are basically fully submerged one was on an angle with maybe 2 sq in of dry space, not a lot
-Tub set up, no shame in tubs I think they are great however this is a very small tub maybe 2.5-3x1.5x1 or so feet (LxWxH) It was maybe 1/2 filled with water so about 2 turtles deep, my guess is that there is way less than 5 gallons of water here maybe only 2.5. No screen top just low water level to keep the turtles from climbing out.
-No heat lamp, dry dock, UVB, filter, heater, or enrichment
-Looks like they are feeding frozen/freeze dried krill, this may be the only food offered
-Water is super dirty and smells bad(I don’t think the water had ever been changed or at least not frequently enough) (the smell was most likely waste in the water and the uneaten food floating on top), water looks like what I think of when I think of a murky pond and I can’t see the bottom despite it only being about 6” or less deep.
With all the above said these turtles look healthy but I wasn’t able to get a great look because I literally could only see about 1-1.5” deep. I see no shell deformities, beaks looked in good shape, clear eyes, I didn’t see any visible shell rot, and both were alert and active. This really surprised me with how bad the tank was.
I didn’t say anything immediately since I was at a party and I didn’t want to ruin my friends birthday but I plan to contact their mom (turtle owner) to see if I can offer some help. The mom was super open to my suggestions with her bearded dragon whose cage looks great now and the dragon was super healthy looking along with their other animals (cats and ferrets) I was sent a photo of their dragon and recommended that they remove the red light and they did really quickly so I have some hope that they will be willing to change their set up so their turtles live a better life. What all should I recommend to them? I want to be super specific so they don’t need to do a ton of research by themselves. I plan to recommend a 150 gallon tub from a farm store like what they give livestock water in for a tank (I think the red eared slider is about 10” and the smaller turtle that I don’t know the species is about 5”-6” so times the total length by 10 is around 150 and I think that’s how you do tank size math.) But what UVB and heat source do I recommend? I don’t think they have a ton of money lying around so I want to keep the price reasonable to start out with and maybe help them DIY some stuff to save some money that way the turtles don’t suffer longer because they are trying to save up for a $1000 set up when a 100-300 will work just as well just might not look as nice.
I will send a message to them soon and I plan to be very blunt that this is abuse and things need to be changed. Honestly the saying “surviving isn’t thriving” doesn’t apply here because they aren’t surviving they are just living. I have hope that they will change the set up and give the turtles a better life but I’ve never had turtles and I need to know where to start to help my friends moms turtles live a life worth living. If you need any more specifics just let me know, I didn’t get any photos but I don’t think I’ll ever get the image of that “tank” out of my head.
Thanks in advance :)

I first started noticing that something was wrong around 3 months ago. At the time, I was working from home and would usually light a scented candle while I worked, which usually helped me relax and stay focused on my work. I would usually burn through a candle a week, but over time, the candles started to take less time to fully burn up. At first, I thought that this was because of a change in ingredients the company that made the candles used, but the problem persisted after I switched candle brands, which I once again blamed on the candle manufacturers.
I kept this belief for another week until the first incident. While getting up from my computer desk, which faces away from the candle, to take a quick bathroom break, I caught a glimpse of the lit candle. A two-inch layer of molten wax rested on another three-inch layer of solid wax, the wicks rising out at first and being somewhat visible through the molten layer, finally breaking the surface and being slowly burned away. The flames flickered as I swung the door open and walked out of the room. When I returned 10 minutes later, the molten layer was gone, and the wicks had been shortened so that the flames rested right above the solid layer of the wax. At first, I thought that the glass jar that contained the candle was leaking, but after a short inspection, I was only able to find two small drops of candle wax that had solidified right next to the candle on the bedside table. I still had 2 hours of work left to do, but I was too lost in thought and was unable to do any work for the rest of the day.
Every night before I go to sleep, I like to read for at least 30 minutes, and while reading, I usually light a candle. Around 4 days later, I had mostly forgotten about the incident and went back to using candles. Due to my naivety, it returned.
I fell asleep while reading with a candle lit on my bedside table. I woke up to loud slurping noises. As I opened my eyes, the brightness of the light I had not turned off almost blinded me. As my eyes tried to readjust to the light and focus on what was in front of me, I saw a somewhat humanoid dark gray to light blue blur that contrasted with the white paint on the walls behind it. Another gray line stretched from the shape's head to the candle on my bedside table. I could feel my heart skip five consecutive beats. I opened my mouth and tried to force out a scream for help, but the pressure I applied to my throat was way beyond what it was able to handle, leading me to only produce a light wheezing sound. I tried to sit up or to at least prop myself up, but my muscles failed me. Trying to push myself up with my arms felt impossible. As I stared at the figure that had suddenly appeared in my room, my eyes finally managed to focus, making it possible for me to see the intruder who was now staring at me. The figure was a man at least 7 feet tall, fully naked; he looked bloated; his eyes were bloodshot and looked like they would pop out of their sockets; at any point, his skin was a grayish light blue.
HIS LIPS
His lips extended from his mouth like an elephant's trunk, which had been split in half. The lips extended from the man's face to the candle; the flames had been put out. He was using his lips as a makeshift straw, slowly sucking up all the molten wax from the candle, which had fully liquified while I was asleep. I laid in bed, unable to move, unable to scream for help, staring until he emptied the jar. His lips retracted back to his face, the molten wax solidifying on their tips and cracking, flakes of wax falling off the man's lips and falling to the floor. The man grinned, staring at me. The ridges and gaps between the teeth were filled in with wax, making it impossible to make out where one tooth ended and the next one began. The man opened the door he was standing next to, but instead of walking out of the room, he stepped behind it. His face peered at me from above the door, and then once again, like he had done to drink the wax, the man puckered his lips, which stretched from his mouth and floated to me. I shook and tried to roll over away from him. I wanted to get up and run, but my fear had taken over my body. Tears flowed from my eyes. He kissed me on the cheek, leaving flakes of wax and light moisture. He retracted his lips and lowered his head behind the door.
I don't remember falling asleep, but when I woke up, I saw the empty glass jar, which at one point contained the candle. Even though I had hoped that what had happened was a dream, it wasn't. I still had flakes of wax on my cheek, and on my bedroom floor, the wax in the jar had disappeared. I called the police, but they were unable to find anyone in my apartment; they also could not find any evidence of a break-in.
After the break-in, I started looking for a new apartment to move to, thinking that the man was tied to the building I was in, but even though I had thrown out all of my candles, I could not stomach spending another hour in my apartment, constantly looking over my shoulder or walking around with my back pressed up against the wall to not allow it to creep up on me. Thankfully, my friend Emma was able to let me stay over at her apartment while I looked for a new one for myself.
Me and Emma have been friends since we were 8, and we've been there to support each other when times get rough. This isn’t the first time I've had to stay over at her house for an extended amount of time; in fact, I have had to stay over at Emma’s as many times as she has had to stay over at my apartment, whether it was because of evictions after losing a job, breakups, or a candle wax drinking squatter. I didn't even know if it was human. I mean, sure, it looked like one, but human lips are not supposed to do what his did, and somehow it didn't have a reaction to molten wax being poured down its esophagus. I didn't tell Emma about what happened—the details at least—I just told her that a man had broken into my house and was watching me sleep. The only people I told the truth to were my therapist and the cops, and all of them disregarded what I told them as my mind making things up after a traumatic event.
For a while, I believed what they said—I mean, why wouldn’t I?—but then I started seeing him again. For a few days, I thought it was my mind playing tricks on me again like it had done during the night of the incident. For split seconds out of the corner of my eye, I would see the outline of a tall, bloated figure. At first, they were hours apart, but after a while, it became constant. He was standing in each room I passed, in every single dark corner I glanced past, and then he spoke.
“FeeD MeEeee”
It stood in the kitchen, peering over from a small gap between the fridge and the sink, where the trash can that had been knocked over onto its side usually stood. His voice was raspy, and every word that came out of his mouth was distorted as if he were gargling water, but still, I could somehow clearly make out each word he said from over 15 feet away.
“Please just leave me alone I… why are you following me?”
I shouted at the figure, the same fear that had taken over my body during the night I saw him for the first time paralyzing me, making it impossible for me to move anything other than my eyes, eyelids, and mouth.
“i’M sTarviNg, I nEEd You To FeEd ME”
It replied again. Now, stepping out from behind the fridge, he stepped directly onto a rotten banana. Its mushy brown content’s seeping out of the peel under the pressure of his decomposing foot, which was covered in scabs, and took up the same grayish light blue color as the rest of his body. He mostly looked the same; his bloodshot eyes bulged from their sockets, but now his tongue was swollen. It peeked out from between his bloated, cracked gray lips; it stared at me, waiting for an answer.
“Ok, I’ll.. I’ll feed you, but please just... leave me alone.”
I replied, the tone of my voice shifting into high-pitched squeals with every quick breath I took. He looked satisfied by my response. He somehow squeezed his bloated body back into the gap that was at least four times smaller than him. After peering over at me from above the fridge, he bent over backwards, his spine releasing a series of sickening cracks until he was fully obscured by the fridge, and then he vanished.
Still barely in control of my body, I limped over to the couch tucked away in the back corner of the living room, it took me at least 10 minutes to steady my breathing and 20 more to fully regain control of my body again but as soon as I did I ran out the house and to the nearest store, during the 15-minute walk he stared at me through dark windows and the backs of cars, peered out at me from gaps between leaves in the trees and bushes, he even followed me into the store staring at me from the middle of deserted isles before disappearing right before my eyes were able to fully catch him, once I finally got the candles I randomly picked four off of the shelves and rushed to the self checkout.
When I arrived home, I had 2 hours before Emma got off work. I didn't want to feed it while she was home, and I didn't want her to see it. I pulled out two of the candles from the black plastic bag and placed them on the kitchen table, the first a light blue candle named “Garden Rain” and the second a red candle named “Juicy Watermelon." I pulled out a lighter from one of the drawers Emma used after her stove stopped lighting on its own and lit each of the 6 wicks on the candles. As soon as I started seeing the wax melt under the heat of the burning wicks, I dropped the lighter onto the table next to the candles and ran out of the room. I could not stomach seeing that thing again; even just thinking about it made me shudder and hyperventilate. The paralyzing fear that seeing him caused me made me want to vomit.
At least 30 minutes later I started to hear it drink even though the living room and kitchen were separated by a wall, even though I had closed the door I could still hear what at first started as slurping sounds which were followed up by loud gulps, then it stopped, and once again 30 minutes later it started drinking, as the slurping started once again I heard the door to the apartment crack open, it was Emma, as she stepped through the door I saw her carrying two large brown paper bags of groceries in her hands, she was headed to the kitchen.
“Hey let me grab those for you”
I said running over to her, my voice shaking.
“Oh, thanks. Are you… okay, you look scared?”
My eyes shot wide open in a mixture of fear and surprise. I said the first thing that came to mind.
“Yeah just umm… I didn't expect you to come home so early and I got a bit spooked”
“shit sorry, I know I should have called you, work let me off early today,”
I started to turn away from her walking to the kitchen.
Trying to keep her away from the kitchen I told her to wait for me in the living room because I wanted to talk to her about something. I didn't know what I would talk to her about but that was a problem for future me to resolve, somehow it worked.
“What's that sound?”
She called out to me while walking towards the living room couch. It took me a few seconds to come up with an excuse.
“I think it’s the sink, or the pipes at least”
I opened the door to the kitchen with my eyes closed at first hesitant to look knowing what would be greeting me. slowly prying my eyes open I started to see its outline, my muscles started to lose strength as the details of the man came into my view, I felt the grocery bags start to slip from my arms, my knees buckled, face first I fell onto the kitchen floor scattering the groceries all over the floor, I mixture of a light scream and a yelp escaped from my mouth as my body made contact with the floor, Emma concerned for my safety ran into the kitchen, she didn't scream, using all of the strength and mobility I had left in my muscles I rolled over expecting to see her face drenched in terror, her body frozen still unable to move just like my body had done the first time that I saw him, but Emma looked concerned, the man was gone, she crouched down beside me.
“Oh my god are you ok? What happened?”
I looked around observing my surroundings.
“I um… I… I tripped on the little thing at the bottom of the doorframe”
I finally managed to blurt out another excuse, not being able to remember what the name of a door sill was. I started to sit up using a part of the energy that had returned to my body, pain pulsed through my chest and arms, Emma looked at me with a concerned face.
“You've been acting really weird since I got home, are you sure you're ok?”
“Yeah… I think I’m just having one of those days you know”
The confusion on Emma’s face said that she didn’t know and to be honest I didn't either, I guess my luck of pulling random excuses out of my ass ran out, Emma thought that she triggered some sort of PTSD response after barging into the house unannounced at first apologizing then trying to change the subject to stop my trembling which I was still unsuccessfully trying to hide from her.
“Did you buy candles?”
Emma asked picking the groceries apart from the garbage that spilled out the can that the man had knocked over, placing them on the table next to the now half-empty glass jars, the flames flickered above the inch or so of molten wax the man was unable to finish drinking.
“Yeah I’ve been struggling with work lately, they usually help me focus”
“Huh Interesting combination you’ve got going on here”
She looked at me and smiled slightly, I smiled back and chuckled to seem normal.
“Yeah even I don't know what I was trying to accomplish here, to be honest”
I tried to help Emma clean up the spilled groceries but she did not let me, she told me that I needed to recover like I had been in a car crash instead of having taken a little tumble. After a few seconds of silence, Emma spoke again.
“Anyway, what did you want to talk to me about earlier?”
A quick jolt of stress shot through my body, in a jumbled mess of lies and fear I had forgotten what I had told Emma, I sat there in silence for a few seconds unable to come up with an excuse
“I…umm… I don’t remember, it wasn't anything serious though”
“Damn did you hit your head too?”
She said once again proudly smiling at her joke.
At this point Emma picked up the last bag of potato chips from the floor and placed it on the table, then she opened the fridge and started loading the groceries into it.
“Anyway I gotta go get back to work’’
I blurted out after a few more seconds of awkward silence.
“Alright well good luck”
I walked over into the living room and sat down in front of my workstation, which now consisted of a laptop sitting on a small foldable TV tray that had just barely enough room left on it to fit a small USB mouse.
The last thing I remember, before I fell asleep, was me mindlessly scrolling through apartment listings while Emma watched a random 90’s horror movie I’m positive only had a budget of $500.
I woke up with a light stinging pain shooting through my dry throat, and a dim hissing sound caused by thousands of water drops striking the ground outside filled the room. I pressed the spacebar on my laptop, the brightness of the screen blinding me temporarily, after taking a few seconds to let my eyes readjust I managed to make out the time, 3:45 AM. A strong smell I was unable to make out the origin of assaulted my nostrils. Lavender.
The smell hitting my nose had the same effect on me that I would expect smelling salts would have on a weightlifter right before they set a world record. Before I knew it my legs were moving on their own at an almost uncontrollable pace, fighting back against my mind which was telling them to slow down after years of being used to navigating both mine and Emma’s apartment as steadily as possible to not bother the neighbors.
Finally, after what felt like an eternity I stood before Emma’s bedroom door, a faint, yellow, pulsating light radiated from a lamp and snuck out of a small gap between the door and the doorframe, reluctantly I pushed my left hand up against the door, my right hand grasping onto the door frame for a sense of stability, once the door was fully agape I scanned the inside of the room my heart skipping a beat for every humanoid shadow cast up onto the wall by the lights from the wicks which were set ablaze and were being slowly burnt away.
I walked into Emma’s room and made my way over to her bedside table to put out the candle, as I stepped closer towards her, her face became more defined, I could finally make out her features, she was awake, but no she could not have been, even though her eyes were wide open they never blinked, she didn't even move slightly, as I moved closer I finally managed to fully make out the expression of pure terror on her face, her mouth wide agape as if she was about to release a deafening screach, but she could not have, a single drop of solidified wax dribbled out of the corner of her mouth and clung to her cheek, my eyes traced the cream colored path back towards her mouth, first up her cheek then between the corner of her mouth and finally behind her teeth, there instead of her tongue or the roof of her mouth I saw a wall of wax which had filled in the entirety of her mouth.
I fell to my knees and hunched forward supporting my body weight with my arms, I was too late, I resisted the urge to vomit and got back up onto my feet, a mixture of tears and snot slid down my face and onto my lips, shaking now I slowly started limping over towards my phone which I had left on the couch next to where I had awoken just minutes before, just minutes before my life was destroyed because of my lies if I had just told Emma what I had gone through, if I had just told her what had happened on the night of the incident which now seemed trivial, even if she thought that I was crazy, I know that she would have complied just to make me feel comfortable.
It took me at least 30 seconds of repeated attempts to stabilize my hands enough to properly dial 911. “Someone broke into my apartment and hurt my friend” was the only reasonable explanation I could come up with that would not get the operator to hang up on me thinking that this was a prank call.
I sat there in the living room for an agonizing 10 minutes, crying, my sadness slowly transformed into anger towards myself, and my mind raced thinking of all the lies I’d told, I kept thinking that if I had just told her the truth she would not have been laying there in her bed, her body bloated, “every single orifice has signs of forced penetration and has been filled with what seems to be candle wax” is what was written on her autopsy report.
For a few days I was the main suspect in Emma’s murder, but due to the almost unstoppable crying and the unresponsive state that I was in when the police arrived, mixed with the lack of evidence of me having a way to produce 30 pounds of candle wax led to me being released out of police custody, but because I was the main suspect I was not told any details about what had fully happened to Emma, for days all I had to work off of was the image of her face frozen in terror, and a short glance I caught of her bloated body as she was being carted out on a stretcher.
I recounted every single word of our last conversations over and over again until they became permanently etched into my brain.
Emma’s parents originally wanted to cremate her, as that is what she had somewhat jokingly asked for whenever the topic of funerals came up, well she had joked about wanting to have had unpopped popcorn shoved down her throat before she was sent off to “scare the shit out of the guy cremating me” but due to all the wax which would have been impossible to get out of her body they were forced to bury her.
A few days before Emma’s funeral her body disappeared.
After Emma’s death, her parents took me into their home, after reading the autopsy reports and seeing her corpse they had thrown out every single candle they owned which made their home the safest choice I had, still, this did not stop me from buying a machete and keeping it under my bed, just in case.
I was laying on the bed in their guest bedroom The day that the police informed Emma’s parents about her disappearance, the bedroom is right above the front porch of the house, at first I heard them ring the doorbell which was followed up by 3 powerful knocks on the door, for about a minute I laid there on the bed listening to muffled voices exchanging distorted words I was barely able to make out which slowly transformed into distorted weeps, curious I lifted myself up from the bed, made my way over to the window and carefully lifted the bottom panel making Shure to not make too much noise, the distorted muffled sounds started forming into coherent words “We checked the security footage but the only strange thing we could see was a 5 second time jump” one of the officers spoke in a serious and almost monotone voice “which meant that the security guard who was the only person in the building had to climb down 2 flights of stairs walk through a 40 foot long hallway and then drag her body back up stairs and out of the building in 5 seconds” Emma’s mom let out yelp “ but don’t worry ma'am that’s actually good news because we know that her corpse is still somewhere within the building and was probably brought to the wrong floor by an intern, we’ve already warned all of the staff at the hospital to keep an eye out, and we also sent 5 officers to search the hospital”
I could not believe what I was hearing, my breathing quickened, but this time instead of fear I felt anger, that fucker stole her corpse and was probably in the weird separate plane of existence he always went back to after terrorizing me, cutting off chunks of her body, melting her, and drinking her.
I closed the window Emma’s mom's cries once again turned into a muffled rumble which was only possible to make out if you knew what to look for, I took a few steps back away from the window planning to lay back down, not wanting to bother Emma’s parents. I bumped into something, not something, someone, its fleshy towering form as solid as a wall sent me tumbling forward, I knew it was him, he had returned to take me too, to stretch his swollen cracked lips, push them down my esophagus, fill my lungs and stomach with wax. But despite all of that this time I was not scared, I was angry, and I was not going to stand there in terror like I had the last time I saw him.
I fell forward onto my knees my face missing the window sill just by mere inches, I put my hands onto the floor, lifted one of my knees, and rotated 180 degrees now facing the monster, to the right of him pushed up against the wall was the bed, light from the sun reflected off of the metallic button which kept my machete in it’s sheathe, the man started to stretch his lips, they were moving towards me, waving a wiggling through the air like a snake slithering towards me.
I dove towards the bed one of my feet pushing off of the floor and the other pushing against the wall which creaked under the pressure applied to it, I flew for a few moments before slamming down onto the carpet and sliding forward, the heat generated by my skin brushing against the carpet released a sharp stinging pain throughout my body, my outstretched arm landed just a few inches short of the machete, I quickly bent my arms, pushing my body up and crawled towards the machete. my fingers wrapped around the handle I spun around, my back pushed up against the bedside table, once again facing the man, he was still facing the window but his lips faced me and were just a few feet away from me, for what felt like minutes but was most likely no longer than a second, I struggled to hook my finger under the strap securing the machete into its sheath, as the lips inched towards me the man started producing gurgling noises, he was regurgitation wax.
I finally pulled the machete out of its sheath, I swung the blade at the man's lips, the blade was not met with any resistance as it sliced through the man’s lips which landed on the carpeted floor with an audible thud, the man did not have a physical reaction to my counter-attack, his lips kept creeping towards me, once again I slashed at the lips, still no reaction, I repeated this at least 3 more times.
I wanted to kill him, I wanted to take revenge for what he had done to Emma, but fighting back was pointless. I realized that no matter how much I tried to hurt it, I could not kill him, I could not get rid of him.
My rage dissipated and a mixture of fear and sadness crept in, and soon took over my body, I screamed for help, I screamed in fear, in agony, tears streamed down my face as the man's lips finally reached my face, he wasn’t met with any resistance as his lips snuck between mine, pried my jaw open and finally started to slide down my esophagus.
I heard the cops run up the stairs, they started banging on the door asking if I was okay only to have been met with muffled screams, hot wax started to pour down inside of me, the stinging pain of the heat made me want to plunge the machete which I had dropped onto the ground next to me into my stomach to create a gaping wound that the wax would hopefully funnel out of, the texture of the man's slippery, oily lips matched with the poison like flavor of the wax caused me to start gagging, I felt my insides bulging like at any moment my intestines would have been filled to the point where they would pop, I wanted to vomit, the drain myself of the filth I was filled with, but his lips had plugged my throat not allowing anything to get out.
Hearing my muffled screams the cops started kicking the door down, the man retracted his lips, the suction aided my attempts at cleansing my insides, I got onto my hands and knees streams of molten wax pouring out of me, solidifying on the the carpet, with another loud thud the door swung open slamming into the wall, the man was gone.
That’s the last thing I remember before I passed out, but according to one of the doctors who was in the ambulance that brought me to the hospital, I was still semi-responsive during the first 10 minutes of the ride to the hospital.
Approximately 13.4 pounds of wax were removed from my body, the doctors said that I was in a critical condition and some of them did not expect me to make it.
One of the officers who was there the day the man attacked me took a report of what had happened to me, due to the unmistakable evidence of what had happened to both me and Emma, and the fact that this was the 3rd instance of me reporting something like this the police finally started investigating who this man might have been.
Around a month later I was discharged from the hospital and once again have been staying in the living room of Emma’s parent's house.
I’ve been seeing the man again, candles were not allowed in the hospital I stayed at, which means that he’s probably very hungry, he’s close to attacking me again, I know it, he wants to finish what he started and I don't know if I have the power to fight back, I’m not sure if defeating him is even possible, I’m tired.
I’ve been seeing Emma too, her bloated, reanimated corpse often appears to be standing next to the man. If I let him take me will I get to join them? I’ve tried asking but they don’t answer, they just stare, I can’t keep living in constant fear, always looking over my shoulder, I miss Emma.

My friend’s mom really needs to learn how to take care of their turtles and I need help helping them so the turtles don’t suffer any longer. Here’s their “tank” specs:
-2 turtles: 1 red eared slider that I think is female based on size 1 other turtle that I don’t recognize the species but possibly male since it’s a bit smaller than the other but could just be a smaller species
-2 half cinder block pieces that are basically fully submerged one was on an angle with maybe 2 sq in of dry space, not a lot
-Tub set up, no shame in tubs I think they are great however this is a very small tub maybe 2.5-3x1.5x1 or so feet (LxWxH) It was maybe 1/2 filled with water so about 2 turtles deep, my guess is that there is way less than 5 gallons of water here maybe only 2.5. No screen top just low water level to keep the turtles from climbing out.
-No heat lamp, dry dock, UVB, filter, heater, or enrichment
-Looks like they are feeding frozen/freeze dried krill, this may be the only food offered
-Water is super dirty and smells bad(I don’t think the water had ever been changed or at least not frequently enough) (the smell was most likely waste in the water and the uneaten food floating on top), water looks like what I think of when I think of a murky pond and I can’t see the bottom despite it only being about 6” or less deep.
With all the above said these turtles look healthy but I wasn’t able to get a great look because I literally could only see about 1-1.5” deep. I see no shell deformities, beaks looked in good shape, clear eyes, I didn’t see any visible shell rot, and both were alert and active. This really surprised me with how bad the tank was.
I didn’t say anything immediately since I was at a party and I didn’t want to ruin my friends birthday but I plan to contact their mom (turtle owner) to see if I can offer some help. The mom was super open to my suggestions with her bearded dragon whose cage looks great now and the dragon was super healthy looking along with their other animals (cats and ferrets) I was sent a photo of their dragon and recommended that they remove the red light and they did really quickly so I have some hope that they will be willing to change their set up so their turtles live a better life. What all should I recommend to them? I want to be super specific so they don’t need to do a ton of research by themselves. I plan to recommend a 150 gallon tub from a farm store like what they give livestock water in for a tank (I think the red eared slider is about 10” and the smaller turtle that I don’t know the species is about 5”-6” so times the total length by 10 is around 150 and I think that’s how you do tank size math.) But what UVB and heat source do I recommend? I don’t think they have a ton of money lying around so I want to keep the price reasonable to start out with and maybe help them DIY some stuff to save some money that way the turtles don’t suffer longer because they are trying to save up for a $1000 set up when a 100-300 will work just as well just might not look as nice.
I will send a message to them soon and I plan to be very blunt that this is abuse and things need to be changed. Honestly the saying “surviving isn’t thriving” doesn’t apply here because they aren’t surviving they are just living. I have hope that they will change the set up and give the turtles a better life but I’ve never had turtles and I need to know where to start to help my friends moms turtles live a life worth living. If you need any more specifics just let me know, I didn’t get any photos but I don’t think I’ll ever get the image of that “tank” out of my head.
Thanks in advance :)

My friend’s mom really needs to learn how to take care of their turtles and I need help helping them so the turtles don’t suffer any longer. Here’s their “tank” specs:
-2 turtles: 1 red eared slider that I think is female based on size 1 other turtle that I don’t recognize the species but possibly male since it’s a bit smaller than the other but could just be a smaller species
-2 half cinder block pieces that are basically fully submerged one was on an angle with maybe 2 sq in of dry space, not a lot
-Tub set up, no shame in tubs I think they are great however this is a very small tub maybe 2.5-3x1.5x1 or so feet (LxWxH) It was maybe 1/2 filled with water so about 2 turtles deep, my guess is that there is way less than 5 gallons of water here maybe only 2.5. No screen top just low water level to keep the turtles from climbing out.
-No heat lamp, dry dock, UVB, filter, heater, or enrichment
-Looks like they are feeding frozen/freeze dried krill, this may be the only food offered
-Water is super dirty and smells bad(I don’t think the water had ever been changed or at least not frequently enough) (the smell was most likely waste in the water and the uneaten food floating on top), water looks like what I think of when I think of a murky pond and I can’t see the bottom despite it only being about 6” or less deep.
With all the above said these turtles look healthy but I wasn’t able to get a great look because I literally could only see about 1-1.5” deep. I see no shell deformities, beaks looked in good shape, clear eyes, I didn’t see any visible shell rot, and both were alert and active. This really surprised me with how bad the tank was.
I didn’t say anything immediately since I was at a party and I didn’t want to ruin my friends birthday but I plan to contact their mom (turtle owner) to see if I can offer some help. The mom was super open to my suggestions with her bearded dragon whose cage looks great now and the dragon was super healthy looking along with their other animals (cats and ferrets) I was sent a photo of their dragon and recommended that they remove the red light and they did really quickly so I have some hope that they will be willing to change their set up so their turtles live a better life. What all should I recommend to them? I want to be super specific so they don’t need to do a ton of research by themselves. I plan to recommend a 150 gallon tub from a farm store like what they give livestock water in for a tank (I think the red eared slider is about 10” and the smaller turtle that I don’t know the species is about 5”-6” so times the total length by 10 is around 150 and I think that’s how you do tank size math.) But what UVB and heat source do I recommend? I don’t think they have a ton of money lying around so I want to keep the price reasonable to start out with and maybe help them DIY some stuff to save some money that way the turtles don’t suffer longer because they are trying to save up for a $1000 set up when a 100-300 will work just as well just might not look as nice.
I will send a message to them soon and I plan to be very blunt that this is abuse and things need to be changed. Honestly the saying “surviving isn’t thriving” doesn’t apply here because they aren’t surviving they are just living. I have hope that they will change the set up and give the turtles a better life but I’ve never had turtles and I need to know where to start to help my friends moms turtles live a life worth living. If you need any more specifics just let me know, I didn’t get any photos but I don’t think I’ll ever get the image of that “tank” out of my head.
Thanks in advance :) P.S. Sorry if this isn’t allowed

My friend’s mom really needs to learn how to take care of their turtles and I need help helping them so the turtles don’t suffer any longer. Here’s their “tank” specs:
-2 turtles: 1 red eared slider that I think is female based on size 1 other turtle that I don’t recognize the species but possibly male since it’s a bit smaller than the other but could just be a smaller species
-2 half cinder block pieces that are basically fully submerged one was on an angle with maybe 2 sq in of dry space, not a lot
-Tub set up, no shame in tubs I think they are great however this is a very small tub maybe 2.5-3x1.5x1 or so feet (LxWxH) It was maybe 1/2 filled with water so about 2 turtles deep, my guess is that there is way less than 5 gallons of water here maybe only 2.5. No screen top just low water level to keep the turtles from climbing out.
-No heat lamp, dry dock, UVB, filter, heater, or enrichment
-Looks like they are feeding frozen/freeze dried krill, this may be the only food offered
-Water is super dirty and smells bad(I don’t think the water had ever been changed or at least not frequently enough) (the smell was most likely waste in the water and the uneaten food floating on top), water looks like what I think of when I think of a murky pond and I can’t see the bottom despite it only being about 6” or less deep.
With all the above said these turtles look healthy but I wasn’t able to get a great look because I literally could only see about 1-1.5” deep. I see no shell deformities, beaks looked in good shape, clear eyes, I didn’t see any visible shell rot, and both were alert and active. This really surprised me with how bad the tank was.
I didn’t say anything immediately since I was at a party and I didn’t want to ruin my friends birthday but I plan to contact their mom (turtle owner) to see if I can offer some help. The mom was super open to my suggestions with her bearded dragon whose cage looks great now and the dragon was super healthy looking along with their other animals (cats and ferrets) I was sent a photo of their dragon and recommended that they remove the red light and they did really quickly so I have some hope that they will be willing to change their set up so their turtles live a better life. What all should I recommend to them? I want to be super specific so they don’t need to do a ton of research by themselves. I plan to recommend a 150 gallon tub from a farm store like what they give livestock water in for a tank (I think the red eared slider is about 10” and the smaller turtle that I don’t know the species is about 5”-6” so times the total length by 10 is around 150 and I think that’s how you do tank size math.) But what UVB and heat source do I recommend? I don’t think they have a ton of money lying around so I want to keep the price reasonable to start out with and maybe help them DIY some stuff to save some money that way the turtles don’t suffer longer because they are trying to save up for a $1000 set up when a 100-300 will work just as well just might not look as nice.
I will send a message to them soon and I plan to be very blunt that this is abuse and things need to be changed. Honestly the saying “surviving isn’t thriving” doesn’t apply here because they aren’t surviving they are just living. I have hope that they will change the set up and give the turtles a better life but I’ve never had turtles and I need to know where to start to help my friends moms turtles live a life worth living. If you need any more specifics just let me know, I didn’t get any photos but I don’t think I’ll ever get the image of that “tank” out of my head.
Thanks in advance :)

My friend’s mom really needs to learn how to take care of their turtles and I need help helping them so the turtles don’t suffer any longer. Here’s their “tank” specs:
-2 turtles: 1 red eared slider that I think is female based on size 1 other turtle that I don’t recognize the species but possibly male since it’s a bit smaller than the other but could just be a smaller species
-2 half cinder block pieces that are basically fully submerged one was on an angle with maybe 2 sq in of dry space, not a lot
-Tub set up, no shame in tubs I think they are great however this is a very small tub maybe 2.5-3x1.5x1 or so feet (LxWxH) It was maybe 1/2 filled with water so about 2 turtles deep, my guess is that there is way less than 5 gallons of water here maybe only 2.5. No screen top just low water level to keep the turtles from climbing out.
-No heat lamp, dry dock, UVB, filter, heater, or enrichment
-Looks like they are feeding frozen/freeze dried krill, this may be the only food offered
-Water is super dirty and smells bad(I don’t think the water had ever been changed or at least not frequently enough) (the smell was most likely waste in the water and the uneaten food floating on top), water looks like what I think of when I think of a murky pond and I can’t see the bottom despite it only being about 6” or less deep.
With all the above said these turtles look healthy but I wasn’t able to get a great look because I literally could only see about 1-1.5” deep. I see no shell deformities, beaks looked in good shape, clear eyes, I didn’t see any visible shell rot, and both were alert and active. This really surprised me with how bad the tank was.
I didn’t say anything immediately since I was at a party and I didn’t want to ruin my friends birthday but I plan to contact their mom (turtle owner) to see if I can offer some help. The mom was super open to my suggestions with her bearded dragon whose cage looks great now and the dragon was super healthy looking along with their other animals (cats and ferrets) I was sent a photo of their dragon and recommended that they remove the red light and they did really quickly so I have some hope that they will be willing to change their set up so their turtles live a better life. What all should I recommend to them? I want to be super specific so they don’t need to do a ton of research by themselves. I plan to recommend a 150 gallon tub from a farm store like what they give livestock water in for a tank (I think the red eared slider is about 10” and the smaller turtle that I don’t know the species is about 5”-6” so times the total length by 10 is around 150 and I think that’s how you do tank size math.) But what UVB and heat source do I recommend? I don’t think they have a ton of money lying around so I want to keep the price reasonable to start out with and maybe help them DIY some stuff to save some money that way the turtles don’t suffer longer because they are trying to save up for a $1000 set up when a 100-300 will work just as well just might not look as nice.
I will send a message to them soon and I plan to be very blunt that this is abuse and things need to be changed. Honestly the saying “surviving isn’t thriving” doesn’t apply here because they aren’t surviving they are just living. I have hope that they will change the set up and give the turtles a better life but I’ve never had turtles and I need to know where to start to help my friends moms turtles live a life worth living. If you need any more specifics just let me know, I didn’t get any photos but I don’t think I’ll ever get the image of that “tank” out of my head.
Thanks in advance :)

Location: Defense Line Husky, Datsot-3

POV: Motsotaer, Malgeir Federation Planetary Defense Force (Rank: Pack Member)
The shrieking whistle of incoming artillery shell was among the most terrifying noises known to living beings.
Sheeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeew. Boom. Boom. Boom.
But it meant you were still alive.
Pack Member Motsotaer wondered if the poor pups in the forward trenches heard them coming as the enemy high explosive pounded into their lines.
Boom. Boom. Boom.
One of their anti-aircraft concrete bunkers took a direct hit; its roof collapsed on itself with a loud crumble.
Grass Eater artillery was voluminous, destructive, but scariest of all, it was incredibly precise. Their intelligence assets in orbit knew all, saw all. Their kill chains were short. Once they saw you, they would call it in, and the remainder of your life was measured in minutes and seconds.
There was nothing vegetarian about the efficient and bloodthirsty way the long-eared Grass Eaters fought, and the numerous intelligent predator species they’d exterminated on their way to Datsot… some of those tales gave even Motsotaer nightmares.
The defenders of Datsot had no choice. No choice but to defend their homes against the psychotic enemies pounding their lines to bits. And the ones who remained had learned the hard lessons of war, either through experience earned by blood or via the process of not-so-natural selection.
Motsotaer clutched his rifle against his chest as he laid in his own shallow hole, eyes closed. If the end was going to come for him, there was nothing else he could do but huddle in his freshly-dug grave.
Boom. Boom. Boom.
The blasts continued walking across the defense lines, undoubtedly killing scores of his comrades. But he accompanied each shockwave with a sigh of relief; they let him know that he was still alive. Still breathing.
One final rumble. And then there was silence across the battlefield.
Motsotaer waited a minute before he peeked out — another lesson that smart defenders of Datsot had discovered the hard way. A couple brave medics were already on the move, their shouts left and right, pulling bodies and the groaning injured alike out of the rubble aftermath of the shelling.
With a grunt, he pulled himself out of his hole, rushing towards the neighboring anti-air bunker. The concrete roof had collapsed, but he could still hear cries from the dark. He squeezed through the cluttered entrance.
It was a mess on the inside. The lights were all gone. Scattered sandbags. It smelled like blood and death, and he pushed aside the still body of a Head Pack Leader he only knew of, only to find the corpse of yet another Pack Member, her limbs sprawled in an unnatural position.
“Anyone still alive in here?” he asked in the dark as his eyes adjusted. “Hello?”
There were a series of loud coughs. “I’m here. I’m here.”
“Pack Leader Nidvid!” he shouted as he recognized the familiar shrill voice. “Keep talking! Where are you?”
“Here. I’m here. Help me up.”
As she continued to cough, he had the sense to fish a flashlight out of his pocket, fumbling around until he found the on button. As the light activated, he could see Nidvid half-buried in the dirt, her lower limbs trapped beneath some sand from the broken sandbags.
“Pack Leader!” He got onto his front paws and started digging. “Are you injured?”
“I don’t think so,” she shook her head in the dim lighting as she experimentally wriggled her legs. “Here, I think I’m loose. Help me up.”
Motsotaer grasped her under her arms, and with a heavy grunt, pulled her out of the dirt.
“Whew,” she said, checking her body again for wounds. Nidvid looked around at the other bodies splayed in the bunker. “Oh no… Head Pack Leader…”
“That was a close one. I can’t believe you lived through that!”
“Yeah, me neither… Wait a second,” Nidvid said as she began rummaging through a pile of rubble near the Head Pack Leader’s body. “The radio…”
“What are you looking for?” he asked as he aimed his flashlight towards where she was looking.
“Oh no, no, no…” her voice trailed off as she picked up the device she’d been looking for. “Our hardline communicator…” It was clearly broken from the strike, its shell perforated with a hundred holes and its connection to the landline severed. In disgust, Nidvid threw it back to the ground.
“What uh— what did you need that for?” Motsotaer asked. “Were we supposed to tell them we were being attacked?”
“No… It was— before the strike, we got a high priority order.”
“A high priority order?”
Nidvid recalled, “There’s a special platoon in our salient… We were supposed to get an important message to them!”
“Special platoon?” Motsotaer asked. “Are you okay, Nidvid?”
“Yes, yes,” the Pack leader replied, visibly distraught. “They only had a physical line to us because they’re supposed to be keeping in the dark. Emissions control or something like that so they can activate the flying machine swarm in time. They said this was life and death and our whole defense line hinges on it!”
“Emissions control? Flying machines? Pack Leader, we should get you to a medic,” he said skeptically.
“No! Motsotaer, this is important. We need to get the message to them now. They’re only a couple kilometers south from our position. If we run over to their position now, it might not yet be—”
He looked up at her face in alarm. “Run to another position? Outside the trench line?”
“Yes! We have to go!” she said, as she peeked out of the concrete bunker towards the barren zone ahead of the trenches. “Now! Before they start their offensive.”
Motsotaer began to protest, “But that’s no creature’s land. If we get spotted by their troops, we’ll be hunted down by the Grass Eaters ships in orbit…”
She was insistent, “Pack Member Motsotaer, get it together. We still have a job to do. Are you with me or are you going to sit here and die like a coward to the long-ears?”
“Yes, ma’am,” he said, straightening up. Death or not, he was no coward. “I mean… I’m with you.”
“Good. Then let’s go.”
With a grunt, she leapt out of the trenches and jogged south, keeping to the defensive side of it for the modicum of cover it provided, and Motsotaer quickly followed. As they sprinted away from the tattered defenses, they ran into a thick tree line that hopefully provided them with some concealment from the Grass Eater ships above.
After a couple more minutes of running in the forest, Motsotaer started to tire and pant. He weighed his burning lung and how embarrassed he’d be if he complained. Luckily for his ego, Nidvid gestured for them to stop after another minute and tossed him her canteen. “Take a break before we get going.”
He chugged as much water as he could in a single swig, and returned the canteen to Nidvid. He gasped out, “How much further, Pack Leader?”
“About one more kilometer south,” she said, aiming her snout up at the treetops. “I recognize the smell of this area.”
“What’s this even about? The message… what was it?”
Nidvid exercised her limbs. “That Grass Eater artillery strike… it was to prepare for their offensive on our lines. They’ve gathered an armored division on the other side of that,” she pointed out into the barren fields beyond the trees. “We have an hour at most before they roll over us.”
“An armored division?!” Motsotaer squeaked. The enemy’s Longclaws — their armored vehicles — were legendary. They could kill from kilometers away. And their thick shells protected them against all but the most powerful artillery in the Federation’s arsenal. He’d never seen one of them personally. If he had, he suspected he wouldn’t be alive to tell anyone about it. “What can we do against a Grass Eater armored division?”
“That’s why we have to get to the special platoon,” Nidvid replied. She pointed in the southern direction, “You ready? Let’s go.”
They galloped for a few more minutes. Motsotaer’s limbs tired and his breaths shallowed as his lung burnt. As he was contemplating whether to ask for another break, Nidvid pointed at a shape in the distance. “There, that’s their position!”
He squinted at it. It was not easy to see, but buried in the tree line was what looked like a bunch of out-of-place branches and leaves over a small vehicle. Buoyed by the anticipation of the end of the marathon, he managed to keep up with Nidvid’s pace.
As they approached, there was a loud shout.
“Hi-yah! Stop!”
They halted their steps and looked for the source of the voice.
“Not one more paw step, deserter! This is a restricted area! Turn around or you’ll be shot!”
Motsotaer looked up at the voice hidden up in the branches. After a moment, with some help from his nose, he found the yeller. It was a short, stout middle-aged male with strange-looking green and brown paint smeared all over his fur and face. He had a rifle aimed squarely at the duo.
“Don’t shoot!” Nidvid yelled back. “We’re runners. We’ve got an important message! For your platoon commander.”
The male in the tree looked suspiciously at them as he leapt down. He lowered his rifle, but didn’t seem any less on guard. “A message?”
“Yes, we’ve got an urgent message for Special Platoon Commander Graunsa. Take us to him right now!”
He sized the two of them up. After a moment, he said slowly, “I am Graunsa. Why are you here, and what is the message?”
Nidvid recovered some of her breath and explained, “The Grass Eaters hit us hard with an artillery strike. Our Head Pack Leader is dead. Our landline is gone. We ran all the way over from our lines north of you.”
Graunsa nodded and gestured for her to continue.
“The Grass Eater armored offensive is about to start. They’re moving into position and ready to go, and there’s a special message embedded—”
“Wait a second,” Graunsa interrupted. “Give me the special message exactly, without omission or your own interpretations.”
“Yes, Platoon Commander,” Nidvid nodded. “The message is: bunny water carriers are in play, red-five-zero-eight; come out of the dark and introduce yourself. Authorization is three-three-greyhound.”
Graunsa looked thoughtful for a moment as he pondered it.
“What does the message mean?” Motsotaer whispered at Nidvid.
“I have no idea,” she shrugged, whispering back. “The Head Pack Leader just told me to memorize it.”
The platoon commander seemed to have made up his mind. “Alright, that seems legitimate. Thanks for the message.” He turned around to leave.
Motsotaer shouted behind him, “Wait, what are we supposed to do now?”
Graunsa turned around. “I don’t know. I’m not your commanding officer.” He paused for a moment. “I wouldn’t recommend going back to your lines though. Might not be there when you get back…”
“What?!”
“You can’t just leave us! Where else are we supposed to go?” Nidvid asked.
Graunsa seemed to contemplate the question for a few heartbeats and sighed, “You said you’re from the position up north?”
“Yup,” they replied in unison.
“And you’re a spotter, Pack Member?” he asked, looking at the rank and position patch on Motsotaer’s chest.
“Yes.”
Graunsa relented. “Fine. We might find a use for you. Get into the bunker… before the Grass Eaters in orbit see us dawdling out here.”
“What? Where?”
The officer pointed at a patch of dark green leaves on the forest floor. As they approached it, he grasped a latch and lifted it to reveal a ladder. The three of them descended into the darkness and Graunsa secured it behind them. With a quiet swoosh, a lamp mounted on the wall lit up to reveal a small hallway leading to a heavy-looking door.
Graunsa knocked on it twice. He turned around and looked at Motsotaer and Nidvid. “What you’re about to see in here is of the highest secrecy level of the Malgeir Federation. If you tell anyone what you see in here, you will be executed for treason. Do you understand?”
“Yes, Platoon Commander.”
“Swear it, on your honor.”
“We swear,” they replied in unison, their voices infused with growing excitement.
“Good enough for me.”
The heavy steel door swung open, showing a room that was vastly different from what its primitive exterior suggested. It resembled a command center far more than a field base, and Motsotaer felt a blast of cold air conditioning in his face as he passed the door threshold.
At the front, a main screen showed a map of the defensive lines in the sector. Facing it, two rows of sleek, new computer screens lit up the dark. Their operators worked busily at their controls, and only a couple faces looked their way in mild interest as they entered.
“What is this—” Motsotaer started to ask. Nidvid grasped his shoulder and shushed him.
Graunsa cleared his throat. Several faces looked towards him in anticipation. “Platoon, we just got the message. Activate the FTL handshake and authenticate us in the network.”
“Yes, sir.” A young-looking communication officer near the front operated a few controls on her console. “I’ve got the advisors on the line.”
Motsotaer read his nametag: Gassin. She was a Gamma Leader, much higher ranked than he, but she looked not a day over twenty. He noted that many of the people in the room sported high-ranking insignias despite their apparent youth.
“On screen,” Graunsa ordered.
A communication window appeared on the main screen, streaming video of someone in a jet-black EVA suit.
Motsotaer stiffened. It was obvious that the subject was alien; at around 1.7 or 1.8 meters, it was far too tall for being a Malgeir. Too small for a Granti. And from the side profile of the suit, it didn’t bulge nearly enough for the tails that the Malgeir’s Schpriss neighbors were known for. A strange new species of aliens.
From the blackened visor, it was obvious that whoever that was… it was the reason for all this tight secrecy.
“Special Platoon Commander Graunsa,” it transmitted in perfect Malgeirish. The alien was either a trained-from-birth Federation Channel One newscaster with a perfectly inoffensive accent, or its translator was far better than anything the Malgeir themselves had invented. “This call is encrypted, but the enemy Znosians in orbit are trying to find your location from the signals, so we’ll have to make it as quick as we can. Have your defensive lines completed your preparations?”
Graunsa stepped up to address the screen directly, “Yes, advisor. Our fire support platoon is ready for tasking.”
“Excellent. Transmitting the first batch of targets in your sector now.”
A series of symbols scrolled onto the screen, showing a number of coordinates.
“We’re getting the enemy positions now,” Gassin exclaimed.
Graunsa turned to her and nodded his appreciation, “Sixteen armored targets. Weapons free.”
“Yes, sir. Programming the sequence.”
A camera on the main screen activated, remotely showing a small hole with some machinery in it dug a few hundred meters away just at the edge of the tree line.
“Launching flying machine swarm!”
As Motsotaer watched, a thicket of metal erupted from the hole in a blur, roaring into the sky.
The main screen was replaced by a four-by-four of windows of black and white images. It took him a couple seconds to realize that he was looking at the battlefield from above. The Malgeir had rotary wing, airplanes, and jet — some were even armed, but they were usually much bigger. And their air assets had been grounded since the early days of the battle for Datsot when the enemy took the orbits.
Not these tiny devices though.
He focused on one of the sixteen windows.
The ground sped past below the camera’s vision, tree line after tree line, the flying machine seemed to know where it was going by itself: Motsotaer looked at the other occupants in the room. None of them seemed to be directly controlling it.
He stiffened.
Is this controlled by a thinking machine?
“We’re getting in range of the target coordinates, Platoon Commander,” Gassin updated the room a few minutes later.
As if on cue, the flying machines flew higher, and the trees on the ground grew smaller, as if further away. Until…
“Targets identified!” Gassin reported with excitement in her voice.
As an infantry spotter, Motsotaer had been trained — barely — to identify enemy armored vehicles. As in, he’d been given a cheatsheet containing the silhouettes of the different types of vehicles the enemy drove. But even he couldn’t tell at this distance what the white-hot smudges on the screen were.
The machine had no such issues though.
Several red boxes materialized on the screen, clearly marking several enemy vehicles in the thermal imagery and adorning them with detailed information.
The one Motsotaer was watching said:
Hostile vehicle, Longclaw MK4 (top armor: ~25mm), 4.2 km.
No hostile EW detected.
Without additional prompting, the flying machines raced in towards their targets, each recognizing a different one as its final destination. Afraid to blink, Motsotaer stared intently at one of the video streams.
A new line of text appeared at the top of the screen:
ETA 20 seconds.
It counted down the seconds, number by number.
The enemy Longclaw got larger and larger until… the screen went black, replaced by static. As he looked around, the other windows were similarly replaced with static one-by-one.
Motsotaer frowned, wondering where the videos had gone.
Then, it hit him. The flying machines were on one-way trips.
The sixteen windows disappeared, and another one appeared, showing the enemy assembly area from a much higher perspective. And instead of the vehicles he expected, he counted sixteen burning wrecks, the black smoke from their flames reaching up into the sky in columns.
“Targets destroyed, Commander,” Gassin said. Several of the officers in the room looked at each other excitedly, but their celebration was muted.
Graunsa nodded. “Call our advisors again.”
The alien appeared on the screen again. “Excellent work, Platoon Commander. We’re assessing the lines and getting the second batch of targets to you now.”
“Understood.”
As the new target coordinates scrolled onto the main screen, Gassin didn’t need additional prompting, “Launching flying machines!”
Another sixteen of them flashed out from the pre-dug position. Another sixteen windows appeared on the screen, replacing the odd-looking aliens’ video.
“Wait a minute,” the aliens’ voice cut into the quiet hum of the control room’s operation. “Switch back to the high-altitude drone. Something’s happening.”
The main screen’s image was replaced by the previous camera looking down at enemy lines. There was a flurry of activity in the enemy base area. Numerous dots representing the ground troops moved to-and-fro. And worryingly, the red squares that surrounded enemy armor began appearing en masse as enemy Longclaws drove out of their covered positions into the open.
Dozens of them.
Then, hundreds. And more appeared every second.
“What’s going on?” Graunsa asked, his voice reflecting Motsotaer’s worry.
The alien took a minute to get back to him, its black helmeted face filling up the screen again. “They’re attacking. They don’t know what hit them in the last strike. But they must have realized that they’re not safe in their assembly area, and they’re doing the only thing they can… We estimate they’ll get to your first lines in thirty minutes.”
“Can we stop them?” Graunsa asked. “We can—”
The alien looked directly into the video. “Not sixteen drones at a time. And if you launch the whole swarm at once, it’ll reflect enough signal for them to sniff out where you are with their counter-battery radars and take you out from orbit.”
Graunsa swallowed. “That’s— that’s— The machines can fly themselves without us, right?”
The alien didn’t say anything for a few heartbeats. “Theoretically, yes. But even if you evacuate your position now, your people won’t get out of range from the orbital strike they’ll call in.”
“I understand. Feed us the enemy targets.”
“Delta Leader, we can’t ask you to—”
“I said, feed us the enemy targets,” Graunsa insisted.
Quietly, hundreds of coordinate pairs filed onto the main screen. Graunsa looked at the faces of the young officers under his command. Dozens of them. He turned around to look at his two guests. “I’m sorry,” he said.
“It’s the right choice,” Nidvid replied, shrugging.
Motsotaer nodded at him.
“I know,” Graunsa said, turning back to the main screen. “Just doesn’t make it any easier.”
“Sir, we’re ready to launch,” Gassin reported.
“Weapons free. Release everything.”
“Yes, sir.”
The ground shook and rumbled, hundreds of flying machines leaving their canisters for the sky. They were close enough to hear the outgoing buzzing as the munitions launched. This time, more and more windows filled up the screen with the visuals of the outgoing flying machines — hundreds of them, and Motsotaer was surprised that the computers could even handle it all.
The visage of the alien returned to their screen. It said calmly, “Enemy orbital launch spotted. Multiple launches. High yield. Missiles incoming to your location, ETA twelve minutes.”
“Understood, advisor.”
POV: Slurskoch, Znosian Dominion Marines (Rank: Five Whiskers)
“Scramble! Scramble! Scramble!”
Riiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiing.
“What’s going on?” Longclaw Commander Slurskoch sat up in his turret cupola as the sirens rang loud through the hull.
“We’re under artillery attack!” his Controller yelled back at him through the roaring startup sequence of the turbine anti-grav engines. “The Lesser Predators… they’ve got some kind of new weapon! Took out a whole battalion’s worth of Longclaws in the 194!”
“But we’re not ready!” his Driver complained. “Our artillery is supposed to pound them for another hour before we—”
Slurskoch shook his head as he checked the friendly force tracker on his screen. “Doesn’t matter! If they’ve got some new weapon, we can’t sit still while we get pounded to bits by whatever they have. We gotta get out there. Hurry it up!”
It took them another two minutes to fully warm up the engines, and with a roar, the Longclaw burst out of its camouflaged emplacement, kicking up a curtain of dirt in front of it.
“Let’s go! Go! Go!” Slurskoch yelled as his lagging Longclaw joined the armored formation already on the move.
The Controller spoke with one of her ears in the radio, “Their artillery just launched… something at us. We’ve pinpointed their location, and orbital support is on its way.”
His Gunner whooped twice, and Slurskoch nodded silently in agreement. That’d flatten those carnivorous abominations where they stood. He drew a few symbols and circles on the digital battlemap as the Longclaws drove toward the enemy lines. “Gunner, watch those potential trench lines in front of us,” he instructed. “Their anti-armor may not look scary on paper, but their infantry can always get a lucky hit in.”
Slurskoch was taught in training that it was better to overestimate the enemy than underestimate them. Luckily, the predators usually fell below expectations, which was why the Dominion controlled the orbits of Datsot now and not them.
His Controller frowned at something in her radio, “They’re saying something about the enemy artillery… The engineers at the base assessed the strike aftermath. There’s something strange in the rubble. The attack was more precise than anything we’d ever seen.”
“What does that mean?” Slurskoch asked in confusion.
“The sensor officer in charge of the assembly area has taken full responsibility. They didn’t see the incoming at all. Higher ups are speculating that the Lesser Predators have a new weapon in their arsenal.”
“The predators made new weapons?” Slurskoch snorted. “Useful ones? That’ll be a first. Well, whatever it is, maybe our Design Bureau will get a good look at it when we finally cleanse this planet of their filth. Make our next battle a little easier when we have to take their home planet.”
His Gunner agreed, “And then, the Prophecy shall be fulfilled.”
A few kilometers into the charge across the open, the Gunner remarked with one eye on her targeting computer, “Looks like even the local winged predators know that there’s about to be a slaughter here.”
The Driver, in his open hatch, looked up at the cloud of them flying over the enemy lines. “Looks like it. A nice juicy feast for them in the coming battle. The irony of the barbaric carnivores being eaten by themselves.”
A few thousand years ago, winged predators would have curdled the blood of any natural-born Znosian. On the original plains of Znos, they were one of the most dangerous threats a lone Znosian faced. Now, that fear had been completely bred out of the gene pool, replaced with contempt for predatory primitivism, the courage to face them in battle, and the drive to exterminate them all.
Curious, Slurskoch stared up into the cloud of winged predators with his Longclaw commander optics. He frowned.
One of them shimmered.
Shimmered.
He zoomed in.
Then, he saw a metallic glint. His whiskers tightened.
“That’s— those aren’t winged predators,” he barely made out in shock. “Incoming!”
“Huh?” his Driver asked, craning his head up to look at the dark shapes in the distance.
“Get inside! Secure the hatch!” Slurskoch shouted at him.
His Driver was not very good at thinking on his own, but he had been bred to follow direct orders without question. He ducked into his seat, quickly securing the hatch above him close with trained claws.
He barely secured the Longclaw as other commanders began yelling out similar instructions on their radios.
“Incoming!” his Controller advised, about ten seconds later than necessary. “Enemy… artillery?!”
“Gunner!” Slurskoch gestured in the general direction of the sky.
“I can’t get a shot on them. They’re too high up!” she screamed back at him.
A trio of air defense vehicles next to him opened up with their six barrels towards the sky, lines of bright tracers stabbing out at the dark swarm. He saw one of the… flying machines hit and fall out of the sky. Then another.
It wasn’t enough.
As Slurskoch’s optics tracked the incoming, he saw them dive. They were fast, and they flew erratic patterns, almost organically, like actual winged beasts. If he hadn’t had that specific fear bred out of his bloodline hundreds of years ago, he would have been frozen in shock. Instead, he yelled out, “Brace! Brace!”
Boom. Boom. Boom.
The world exploded around his Longclaw.
Through his friendly force tracker, Slurskoch watched an entire battalion disappear off the map on his right flank, and two Longclaws in his line of sight brewed up in massive fireballs, throwing their turrets into the sky as their plasma ammunition detonated. One of the anti-air vehicles brewed up next to his, splattering its parts against his hull.
His Driver drove for all he was worth, ducking and weaving in the open field. So did the other Longclaws. Some deployed curtains of smoke in front of them in desperation.
None of it seemed to help.
The shockwaves hit his Longclaw in quick succession, knocking him around the armored cabin and rattling his teeth.
Boom. Boom.
More Longclaws exploded. Many more. They were disappearing off his screen faster than the software could update the signals. He closed his eyes waiting for the end.
It didn’t come.
It was hard for Slurskoch to tell when the last Longclaw near them was hit. His hearing organs must have been damaged some time during the attack. His auditory senses ringed as they returned to normal, recovering when his Controller shook him with a paw on his shoulder. “—Five Whiskers! Five Whiskers!”
“What is it?” he snapped, keeping the quivering out of his voice.
“We’re alone in our company, and I can’t contact the six whiskers! And I’ve been trying to reach battalion without success!”
“Try the regiment commander!” he yelled out against the noise of the anti-grav engine.
“Can’t reach them either!”
“What about division headquarters?!”
“I think division’s gone, sir!”
“What?!”
“Nobody there has been responding. All I’ve got is a seven whiskers in the reserve infantry division behind us! They’re saying they see black smoke in the direction of our division field command!”
“What in the Prophecy? How is that possible?!”
“What do we do, Five Whiskers?”
Slurskoch had been trained for a wide variety of combat scenarios and contingencies, including losing his immediate superiors, losing most of his unit, and losing his communication link to command. But he’d never been trained for all of those combined at once. That was just not something predators were supposed to be able to do to you.
He fell back to the next best thing.
“What’s the combat computer say?” he asked.
His Controller operated the controls on her console, and after half a minute of querying, she replied, reading off the instructions, “Absent orders, continue the attack. Maybe we can push through.”
“What? Did it take our losses into account?” he protested as he checked the battlemap. Of the nearly five hundred Longclaws that had pushed out of the assembly area, only a quarter remained. At most. Some of the signals on the map were flagging themselves as mobility or mission killed.
She shrugged, “It did. That’s what it says.”
He squinted at her screen. That was indeed what it said.
Slurskoch thought for a moment, sighed, and bowed in prayer, “Our lives were forfeited the day we left our hatchling pools.”
The other crew members all did the same, lowering their heads to mutter the familiar mantra.
That ritual out of the way, he drew up to his full height of 1 meter and mustered all the confidence he could into his voice, “Attack! Attack! Attack!”
POV: Graunsa, Malgeir Federation Planetary Defense Force (Rank: Delta Leader)
The command center watched glumly as the hundred or so surviving Grass Eater Longclaws emerged from the wrecks of their comrades and slowly resumed their charge across the open toward the defense lines.
The flying machines had gotten a lot of them. Quite a few disabled too. And they were disorganized from the loss of their command. Yet they still charged. Diminished as their numbers were, they rolled towards the battered defensive lines with psychotic determination.
We’ve failed.
Graunsa sat down heavily into his chair. He brought up his communication console, connecting it to the advisor network.
The alien appeared on the screen, and though he couldn’t see its face, he could hear the sympathy in its translated voice, “You’ve done all you can, Special Platoon Commander.”
“It wasn’t enough,” he said, shaking his ears sadly. “They’re going to break through our line. Our infantry can’t stop them.”
It tilted its head. “I wouldn’t count them out completely, Delta Leader. They might. They might not. But your next defensive line certainly will hold them. The city behind you will be held.”
“Tracking enemy orbit-to-ground. ETA three minutes,” Gassin reported quietly from next to him.
Graunsa sighed. He looked at the alien, “I think I understand your people now, advisor.”
“You… do?”
“Yeah, at first, when we were picked for this mission, I wondered why your people were doing this.”
“Doing this?” the alien asked, seeming confused.
“Helping us. The weapons. The equipment. The training. The targeting. It was all in secret, but you didn’t have to do it. The other species around us didn’t do it. The Schpriss…” Graunsa snorted, “The long-tails can’t even find it in their spines to send us field rations. I thought your species… your people were just generous. Or perhaps you simply enjoyed the craft of war, being so adept at it.”
“Are we… not?”
“Those reasons may be part of it,” he conceded. “But more importantly, I think your people understand one thing the other species don’t… that we might stop the enemy here. Or we might not.”
“We didn’t set you up to fail, if that’s what you think—”
“But the next defensive line certainly will hold them,” Graunsa said, staring the alien in the eye. “You will hold them. Isn’t that right?”
It sighed. “I would be lying if that wasn’t part of the strategic equation. Our star systems are indeed next in line — sometime in the next decade or two, probably — if these bloodthirsty Buns conquered your Federation. That harsh astropolitical realism. But there’s something else too.”
“Is there?”
“Yes,” it nodded its head firmly in a familiar manner. “Yes, there is. We aren’t a particularly long-sighted species, Graunsa. We can plan, yes, but wars are fought by true believers. People don’t sign up to put their lives on the line for a hypothetical, potential invasion of our Republic twenty years in the future. They— we signed up for this because we truly believe what’s happening to your people… it shouldn’t happen to anyone, ever.”
Graunsa looked at the helmeted head for a while, then nodded. “I believe you, advisor.”
“I’m sorry this didn’t pan out, Graunsa. If I could, I’d be down there with you. We’d have made them pay for this.”
Graunsa smiled. “I believe you about that too. Thank you, advisor, whatever your name is.”
“You may call me Kara,” it said simply. A deft snap of its paws — he hadn’t noticed how soft its claws were before — and it released a latch on its helmet with a hiss. Lifting it from its head, it revealed a soft, smooth face without much fur except a bundle of long, brown strands on its scalp tied up in a neat spherical shape. Its hazel forward-facing eyes stared at him with the empathy that only other predators were capable of, filling him with mild relief. “Don’t tell anyone though,” it joked lightly, mirroring his smile back at him.
You’re not as ugly as I thought you’d be. Not nearly.
Graunsa’s grin widened at the thought. He put it out of his mind. “Ah. One last thing, advisor— Kara.”
“Yes?”
His mind drifted to his cubs at home. Perhaps they were still alive. He chose to believe that. “Our people’s clans and packs…”
“We’ll let them know,” she interrupted him softly. “And when the information quarantine is lifted, we’ll let your clans and packs know what you did here — everything.”
“Good. Thank you.”
Gassin sat down next to him, “Delta Leader, enemy missiles incoming. ETA thirty seconds, they’re entering—” She stopped her report and stared at the unmasked alien on his screen with equal parts wonder and sadness.
“Take a closer look, Gassin,” he ordered softly. “That… that is who will avenge us.”
On screen, the alien put its gloved paw up to its temple, forming a stiff triangle with its arm in a recognizable salute. “It was an honor, Graunsa.”
Graunsa returned it crisply, letting a primitive fire shine through his face. “Happy hunting, Kara.”

Location: Atlas Naval Command, Luna

POV: “Kara”, Terran Reconnaissance Office
Kara watched solemnly as the green signal blinked off the battlemap. She closed her eyes for a moment in silent prayer for the fallen.
Beep. Beep.
Another light on her console blinked urgently for her attention. Four thousand kilometers from the previous one. The war raged on — day and night — across four continents on the besieged planet. Fifty light years from the Republic, its defenders’ sweat, tears, and blood lined the fields and valleys of the beautiful blue sphere not so different from her own. Tens of millions of them: many who she knew would not see the end of this war.
They didn’t all know it, and some might not have cared, but fifty light years away, someone recorded their names, and someone felt a pang of loss for their sacrifice. In the cold, dark forest of the galaxy, somebody heard their trees fall.
Kara collected her thoughts, adjusted the bun in her hair, and lowered the tinted EVA helmet over her face once more.
She cleared her throat as she glanced at the screen and activated the microphone in her helmet, “Special Platoon Commander Treiriu. This call is encrypted, but the enemy Znosians in orbit are trying to find your location from the signals, so we’ll have to make it as quick as we can. Have your defensive lines completed your preparations?”

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Jacob Boehme (or as some say Behmen) was a German mystic and spiritualist who began to write in the 17th century. In his works he inserted a picture of an angel blowing a trumpet, from which issued these words: "To all Christians, Jews, Turks and Heathens, to all the nations of the earth this Trumpet sounds for the last time." In truth it was a curious emblem, but he, the author, was a mystic, and as all experience shows, the path of the mystic is a strange one. It is, as Job says, a path which the "vulture knoweth not." Even as a bird cleaves the eternal ether, so the mystic advances on a path nor ordinarily manifest, a way which must be followed with care, because like the Great Light, which flashes forth and leaves only traces when it returns again to its centre, only indications are left for those who come after seeking the same spiritual wisdom. Yet by these "traces," for such they are called in the Kabbala, the way can be discerned, and the truth discovered.
Boehme was poor, of common birth, and totally devoid of ordinary education. He was only a shoemaker. Yet from the mind and out of the mouth of this unlettered man came mighty truths.
It would be idle to inquire into the complications of Karma which condemned him to such a life as his appeared to be. It must have been extremely curious, because though he had grasped the truth and was able to appreciate it, yet at the same time he could not give it out in its perfect form. But he performed his work, and there can be no manner of doubt about his succeeding incarnation. As Krishna says in the Bhagavad-Gita, he has been already or will shortly be "born into a family of wise devotees"; and thence "he will attain the highest walk."
His life and writings furnish another proof that the great wisdom-religion―the Secret Doctrine―has never been left without a witness. Born a Christian, he nevertheless saw the esoteric truth lying under the moss and crust of centuries, and from the Christian Bible extracted for his purblind fellows those pearls which they refused to accept. But he did not get his knowledge from the Christian Scriptures only. Before his internal eye the panorama of real knowledge passed. His interior vision being open he could see the things he had learned in a former life, and at first not knowing what they were was stimulated by them to construe his only spiritual books in the esoteric fashion. His brain took cognizance of the Book before him, but his spirit aided by his past, and perchance by the living guardians of the shining lamp of truth, could not but read them aright.
His work was called "The Dawning of the Eternal Day." In this he endeavors to outline the great philosophy. He narrates the circumstances and reasons for the angelic creation, the fall of its chief three hierarchies, and the awful effects which thereupon fell upon Eternal Nature. Mark this, not upon man―for he was not yet―but upon the eternal Nature, that is BRAHM. Then he says that these effects came about by reason of the unbalancing of the seven equipoised powers of forces of the Eternal Nature or Brahm. That is to say, that so long as the seven principles of Brahm were in perfect poise, there was no corporeal or manifested universe. So in the Bhagavad-Gita we find that Krishna tells Arjuna that "after the lapse of a thousand ages (or Night of Brahm) all objects of developed matter come forth from the non-developed principle. At the approach of that day they emanate spontaneously." (Bhagavad-Gita, Chap. 8. ) Such is the teaching of the Secret Doctrine.
And again Boehme shows the duality of the Supreme Soul. For he says in his work "Psychologia Vera cum Supplemento" that these two eternal principles of positive and negative, the yea and the nay of the outspeaking Supreme One, together constitute eternal nature,―not the dark world alone; which is termed the "root of nature,―" the two being as it were combined in perfect indissoluble union.
This is nothing else but Purush and Prakriti, or taken together, what is referred to in the Bhagavad-Gita where it is said: "But there is another invisible, eternal existence, superior to this visible one, which does not perish when all things perish. It is called invisible and indivisible. This is my Supreme Abode."
Clearly the Supreme Abode could never be in Purush alone, nor in Prakriti alone, but in both when indissolubly united.
This scheme is adhered to all through this great philosopher's works, no matter whether he is speaking of the great Universe or macrocosm, or of its antitype in man or microcosm. In "De Tribus Principiis" he treats of the three principles or worlds of Nature, describing its eternal birth, its seven properties, and the two co-eternal principles; and furthermore in "De Triplici Vita Hominis" he gives the three-fold life of man from which the seven is again deduced.
In "De Electione Gratia" he goes into a subject that often proves a stumbling block to many, and that is the inevitableness of evil as well as of good. From this it is easy to pass to a contemplation of one of the difficult points in occultism as shown in the Secret Doctrine, that nothing is evil, and that even if we admit evil or wickedness in man, it is of the nature of the quality or guna, which in the Bhagavad-Gita is denominated raja―foulness or bad action. Even this is better than the indifferent action that only leads to death. Even from wickedness may and does come forth spiritual life, but from indifferent action comes only darkness, and finally death.
Krishna says in Bhagavad-Gita, Chap. IV: "There are three kinds of action: first, that which is of the nature of Satyam, or true action; second, that which is of the nature of Raja, or bad action; third, that which is of the nature of Tamas, or indifferent action." He then says: "Although thou wert the greatest of all offenders, thou shalt be able to cross the gulf of sin in the bark of spiritual wisdom"; and a little farther on "The ignorant and man without faith, whose spirit is full of doubt, is lost and cannot enjoy either world." And in another chapter in describing Himself, he says that he is not only the Buddha, but also is the most evil of mankind or the Asura.
This is one of the most mystical parts of the whole secret doctrine. While Boehme has touched on it sufficiently to show that he had a memory of it, he did not go into the most occult details. It has to be remembered that the Bhagavad-Gita, and many other books treating on the Secret Doctrine, must be regarded from seven points of view; and that imperfect man is not able to look at it from the centre, which would give the whole seven points at once.
Boehme wrote about thirty different treatise, all of them devoted to great subjects, portions of the Secret Doctrine.
Curiously enough the first treated of the "Dawn of the Eternal Day," and the second was devoted to an elucidation of "The Three Principles of Man." In the latter is really to be found a sevenfold classification similar to that which Mr. Sinnett propounded in "Esoteric Buddhism."
He held that the greatest obstacle in the path of man is the astral or elementary power, which engenders and sustain this world.
Then he talks of "tinctures," which we may call principles. According to him there are two principles ones, the watery, and the igneous. These ought to be united in Man; and they ardently seek each other continually, in order to be identified with Sophia or Divine Wisdom. Many Theosophists will see in this a clue not only to the two principles―or tinctures―which ought to be united man, but also to a law which obtains in many of the phenomena of magic. But even if I were able, I should not speak on this more clearly.
For many inquirers the greatest interest in these works will be found in his hypothesis as to the birth of the material Universe. On the evolution of man from spirit into matter he has much more than I could hope to glance at. In nearly all of it he was outlining and illustrating the Secret Doctrine. The books indicated are well worthy of study not only by Western but also by Eastern metaphysicians.
Let us add a few sentences to support this hypothesis from Count Saint Martin, who was a devoted student of these works.
"Jacob Boehme took for granted the existence of an Universal Principle; he was persuaded that everything is connected in the immense chain of truths, and that the Eternal Nature reposed on seven principles or bases, which he sometimes calls powers, forms, spiritual wheels, sources, and fountains, and that those seven bases exist also in this disordered material nature, under constraint. His nomenclature, adopted for these fundamental relations, ran thus: The first astringency, the second gall or bitterness, the third anguish, the fourth fire, the fifth light, the sixth sound, and the seventh he called BEING or the thing itself."
The reader may have begun to think the author did not rightly comprehend the first six but his definition of the seventh shows he was right throughout, and we may conclude the real meanings are concealed under these names.
"The third principle, anguish, attenuates the astringent one, turns it into water, and allows a passage to fire, which was shut up in the astringent principle."
There are in this many suggestions and a pursuit of them will repay the student.
"Now the Divine Sophia caused a new order to take birth in the centre of our system, and there burned our sun; from that do come forth all kinds of qualities, forms and powers. This centre is the Separator." It is well known that from the sun was taken by the ancients all kinds of power; and if we mistake not, the Hindus claim that when the Fathers enter into Para-Nirvana, their accumulated goodness pours itself out on the world through the "Door of the Sun."
The Bhagavad-Gita says, that the Lord of all dwells in the region of the heart, and again that this Lord is also the Sun of the world.
"The earth is a condensation of the seven primordial principles, and by the withdrawal of eternal light this became a dark valley." It is taught in the East, that this world is a valley and that we are in it, our bodies reaching to the moon, being condensed to hardness at the point where we are on the earth thus becoming visible to the eye of man. There is a mystery in this statement, but not such an one as cannot be unravelled.
Boehme proceeds: "When the light mastered the fire at the place of the sun, the terrible shock of the battle engendered an igneous eruption by which there shot forth from the sun a stormy and frightful flash of fire―Mars. Taken captive by light it assumed a place, and there it struggles furiously, a pricking goad, whose office is to agitate all nature, producing reaction. It is the gall of nature. The gracious, amiable Light, having enchained unerupted Mars, proceeded by its own power to the bottom or end of the rigidity of Nature, when unable to proceed further it stopped, and became corporeal; remaining there it warms that place, and although a valet in Nature, it is the source of sweetness and the moderator of Mars.
"Saturn does not originate from the sun, but was produced from the severe astringent anguish of the whole body of this Universe. Above Jupiter the sun could not mitigate the horror, and out of that arose Saturn, who is the opposite of meekness, and who produces whatever of rigidity there is in creatures, including bones, and what in moral nature corresponds thereto." (This is all the highest astrology, from one who had no knowledge of it.) "As in the Sun is the heart of life, so by Saturn commenceth all corporeal nature. Thus in these two resides the power of the whole universal body, and without their power there could be no creation nor any corporification.
"Venus originates in effluvia from the Sun. She lights the unctuosity of the water of the Universe, penetrates hardness, and enkindles love."
"Mercury is the chief worker in the planetary wheel; he is sound, and wakes up the germs in everything. His origin, the triumph of Light over Astringency (in which sound was shut up silent), set free the sound by the attenuation of the astringent power."
It is certain that if this peculiar statement regarding Mercury is understood, the student will have gained a high point of knowledge. A seductive bait is here held out to those striving disciples who so earnestly desire to hold converse with the elemental world. But there is no danger, for all the avenues are very secret and only the pure can prevail in the preliminary steps.
Boehme says again: "The Mercury is impregnated and fed continually by the solar substance; that in it is found the knowledge of what was in the order above, before Light had penetrated to the solar centre."
As to the Moon, it is curious to note that he says, "she was produced from the sun itself, at the time of his becoming material, and that the moon is his spouse." Students of the story of Adam being made to sleep after his creation and before coats of skin were given, when Eve was produced from his side, will find in this a strong hint.
The above is not by any means a complete statement of Boehme's system. In order to do justice to it, a full analysis of all his works should be undertaken. However, it is sufficient if thoughtful minds who have not read Boehme, shall turn to him after reading this, or if but one earnest reader of his works, or seeker after wisdom, shall receive even a hint that may lead to a clearing up of doubts, or to the acquisition of one new idea. Count Saint Martin continually read him; and the merest glance at the "Theosophic Correspondence" or, "Man―His Nature, &.," of Saint Martin will show that from that study he learned much. How much more then will the Western mind be aided by the light shed on both by the lamp of Theosophical teachings.
"Let the desire of the pious be fulfilled."
WILLIAM Q. JUDGE
Theosophist, April, 1886.

While many if not most people would consider windowless apartments wrong, it may be possible that high enough percentage of people would be willing to be without windows if that saves them money or for some other advantage. Remember that people can have stranger acceptances than that. It should be a personal choice. North of arctic circle in winter, windows have little use anyway, even if most houses have them and people value them to some extent. If somebody spends 10 hours a day outdoors, there is not much urge to look outdoors from indoors too, through glass, but the building could be such that windows are on common space corridors where one could easily walk in indoor clothing and corridors have benches.
If the building is five or ten apartments thick, there is less circumference & 3d-surface area per volume, which means less heat dissipation in heating seasons and more energy-efficiency.
Construction per volume is cheaper.
It needs less land per volume and per inhabitant compared to the normal 2 apartment thick buildings. One related upside is that nature around the building can be in bigger contiguous pieces rather than small pieces of green between buildings.
It needs multiple technological solutions to make it more palatable. Here are some:
Need lots of air pipes, so better have 1 meter of extra height with ceiling and extra-wide corridors. The pipes would be in corridors, so higher ceiling in rooms would somewhat compensate for lack of windows. Some air pipes go to sides, some to roof.
Wide and numerous corridors and other common space helps community building and relations. Every floor could have one corridor that is designed for running, by having high-friction strip and other things.
Every room with many lights all over the ceiling, and many light switches, some with color adjustment knobs with one physical wheel for every 3 color channels( red, green, blue ) Need to be able to switch on only those lamps that are not within field of view. Maybe static hologram displays that show scenery with apparent parallax in the horizon distance.
Every apartment could have door to 2 different corridors on opposite sides, 2 doors. This is better for fire safety than a window. The 2 corridors should be air-separated, so smoke would usually be only in one of them. And maybe at most 20 or 40 meters distance to the nearest air-separated stairway, in a corridor that is extra wide and tall (for multiple reasons). Many buildings are so tall that escape via window is not possible anyway in the upper floors. Multiple stairways, some of them outdoors, and possibly even a set of slides for going down or letting objects go down. Smoke removal hatches, which can open both manually or automatically and some of which lead to shafts that go to the roof and which can be used for normal ventilation during summer. Smoke alarm can automatically open some windows in the common corridors.
Equivalent to opening window for ventilation inside apartment would be putting air pipe fans on extra speed. Direction of airflow could be decided based on wind direction outside, maybe automatically, so air flows inside along the air flow outside (but usually slower).
Backup batteries for 2 days of normal use. Maybe sodium-ion batteries.
Other technical solutions may be needed besides those mentioned here.
Roof is like a big plaza with railings and air pipe ends in 4 meter height all over, for everyone.
Maybe sun-tracking solar panels so residents can stand in their shadows. Extra-tall supports part of the building.
Roof could also have common observation dome with large windows for watching clouds and stars. Shape is some platonic solid like icosahedron, so some windows would be horizontal.
One version could be that some large apartments are really long and have window in only one room.
Windows are less important for hotel rooms, so hotels first. Maybe have building that has apartments with windows on the outer edge while hotel rooms are in the core. Also for refugee housing.
Upside of no external wall or window is avoiding noise from cars, dogs, planes and thunder.
Upside of common space windows is 360 degree visibility on all heights, from inside the building as a whole, and especially if the building is octagon-shaped.
Everyone likes room windows, but others give it a different weight relative to other considerations. In some areas, there might be a choice between having 1000 people living in streets, 1000 people living in windowless apartments or 500 people living in windowed apartments+500 people living in streets.
Making something worse to make something else better is a tricky type of idea to argue for.
Any atrium, courtyard or lighting well inevitably increases heat flow to outside, even if covered with glass. Firstly, it is more surface area for the building. Secondly, warm air rises up and heat conducts through the roof glass much faster than through rock wool+concrete. Glass is thinner and has higher thermal conductivity than concrete or some insulation material.
In a big building, atrium is basically a dark alley, not providing enough illumination for most things, so on that alone it is questionable expense to pay for the extra walls, atrium windows, room windows etc.
Atrium or courtyard is needlessly large for ventilation. Stairwells and elevator shafts can take some of that too.
If the atmospheric air is behind a window, it means heat dissipation and the apartment is on the edge at least partially. If there is some sort of shaft / square and wide pipe / atrium vertically inside building, that means space not used as living space, regardless if it is for light and air or just for light(window covered shaft). That shaft and the windows also cost money. Also noise of planes and thunder come from there. But it is good option somewhere for some people, just like windowless apartments are good option for others.
For example, the Pentagon building with it's multiple rings does not count as donut-shaped solid, unlike the Apple building.
Atrium means choosing more construction expense, more heat transfer to outside, more noise and more walking distance to some apartments. Sometimes those are ok choices for the whole, but in my opinion, world has enough atriums already ( and overly large windows ) and energy saving should be much higher priority instead.

Hello all. I am currently writing a lab report for uni where a red laser was shot through a double slit, creating a diffraction pattern on the sensor in the back. We captured the data in the following graph (we had a lot of different data for different slits and distances, but its all the same concept).
https://imgur.com/a/c8YjBFY
Now I am trying to find the wavelength of the light based on this graph using the following formula:
𝑚𝑠𝑖𝑛θ = 𝑛λ
where m is the distance between the slits, θ is the angle of diffraction, n is the order of diffraction and λ is the wavelength.
m is given as 0.5mm or 0.5*10^-3m
θ was found by taking the arctan of the distance between the center and the 1st order of diffraction (two red lines in second picture), divided by the distance of the double slit to the sensor. This gives us arctan(θ)=0.0447m/0.85m. Which in turn gives θ=3.0103°.
As per the second picture, we are dealing with the first order of diffraction which means n=1
This means, that if we plug everthing into this equation we get:
0.5x10^-3 sin(3.0103)=1λ. This gives us a final answer for the wavelength of λ=2.626*10^-5 meters
This answer makes no sense cause thats two orders of magnitude away from visible light. What am I doing wrong? This formula was given by the lab directions, btw. My lab partner is also lost. Did we make a stupid mistake somewhere? The order of diffraction should be right.
Any help would be appreciated.

Hello, I hope you have a good day.
These days, I have been turning over an idea in my mind, which I have been thinking about a lot and which has ended up giving rise to this idea of a magic system, which I have named Tulmaterium. I like to know our opinions about this idea :D
Mechanisc
The idea of this magic system is that some people that they born with the ability of access to this magic, called Thulmatists, have the power to create, with their energy magic(called Essence), a material that dont exist in the nature. Because they are materials that should not exist, they disintegrate over time (the speed of the process depends on how much mass of this substance has been created), unless they are supplied with essence in a good quantity or continuously.
This materials are unnatural because they have stranges properties to their phisical state or dont obey the natural laws of the element that they are associating(Every imaginary material have asocciate a natural element, like air, dust, water, among others.) In addition, each material can generate a different magic effect, that only manifests if the user add some magic energy to the material with the intention to use this power(not in all cases, but it applies in most of the materials.
Furthermore, all users of said magic are recognizable by certain traits in their being that can be associated with the element to which they were born associated. For example, those who can create the material of air may have hair that moves as if there is always wind blowing it or their way of walking is as if they are light as the wind.
Powers
In this systems, exists only 8 elements, with one imaginary material associates. This elements are:
Air: This element allows their users to create a gas similar to a dense mist, pink in color with orange touches like the sunset. It behaves the same as fog but, if exposed to a source of ultraviolet rays, such as direct sunlight, it undergoes an almost instantaneous and very violent expansion (in open areas it is harmless except for the change in pressure, but in closed places can be as strong as an explosion).
the magical power allows the user to alter the light that passes through the fog, creating visual illusions, making whoever enters invisible or altering the shape of the gas so that it acts as a lens that concentrates or disperses the light (in the first case creating a similar but more powerful effect of the reflection of light in the mirror)
Dust:
The material of this element are a type of dark sand, like the one present on volcanic beaches, but with a strange metallic shine when it spreads or forms sheets.
Its only strange property is that, with enough magic and time, it can be used to create black crystals that do not disappear over time, but lose their ability to use their magic power. Of course, when reacting with magic, they emit an iridescent and flowing glow, like the shine of tar, but more powerful and long-lasting.
The magical power are the ability to manipulate the sand to alter its consistency, making it denser or more fluid, or act as a filter or insulator for one element or another through the structures that you can use to manipulate it.
Water:
The substance is similar to water in aspect, except for it have a intense light blue color and more viscosity. The strange property that It has is that it is a very reactive substance, even being capable of damaging glass and slightly some metals that support chemical reactions, such as platinum. Of course, other imaginary materials and living beings, due to their essence, are more resistant to this effect, although not immune.
The magic power that it grants is the ability, by mixing the appropriate components inside, the user can use the liquid to alter said components, obtaining the molecule or alloy that the user desires from them. Of course, the process completely consumes the imaginary substance.
Oil:
The substance is a type of biofuel in aspect and properties, but with a remarkable purple color. And, like the fuels, are very flammable(similar to gasoline) and produce, in contact with the aire, a strange slag layer made of solidified air components (like O2, CO2, water vapor, among others) as a gelatinous mass.
the magic power is the ability to increase the power of the magic powers of other users that they are sprinkled with that oil and the user of the oil has applied his power to them.
Rock:
This material can be created in form of small balls of gold rocks with cracks through which a reddish glow is emitted, like a broken and lit coal in a fireplace. Despite their appearance, the heat they emit is only a couple of degrees higher than that of the human body.
The magic power of this material only activate when someone eat one of this balls, causing, upon reaching his stomach, the material to begin to emit controlled heat and cause a temporary alteration of his body in the user, who develops small rocky patterns on his skin and his eyes become intense as fathoms. This transformation consumes the essence that the living being possesses by virtue of being a living being and multiplies it, turning it into an improvement in its physical and mental capabilities.
Of course, consuming more spheres does not give you more power, but rather it lengthens the time that the ability remains active (although the effects later are worse when they are exhausted, since more than three or four continuous spheres can leave someone on the brink of death. a normal human)
Metal:
This material is a liquid metal, like the mercury, but less poisonous, more cohesive and a deep red color, like intense fire. The magic power are the ability to generate magnetic fields, both inside the metal (to alter its shape at will) and outside the metal (used to push other nearby metals or levitate the metallic substance).
Vegetable material:
This material is a strange green substance, contained in a wooden shell of white, brown and red colors, as well as covered with several spikes.
Its magical power allows, through an infinitely replicable process, to store and extract essence from the greenish substance, which acts as a portable warehouse for it. The curious thing is that, if the essence reserve is left full, but nothing is extracted for several days, the material will consume said energy to grow in size and change to resemble a growing tree.
If this process is repeated several times, in a few years you can have trees of this substance almost ten meters high and several meters long. In this state, touching the leaves of said plant allows energy to be transferred or extracted, its storage now being equivalent to that of the magical energy of tens of thousands of people or thousands of users.
Animal material:
This substance is similar to a white gelatin, inside which an incredible amount of amoeba-like microorganisms is stored. These are harmless to living beings, although they require nutrients and magical energy to stay alive.
Its magical ability allows the user to generate, from the available nutrients, any biological component (biotoxins, hormones, proteins, fats and so on) that the user desires, as long as the user knows its exact chemical composition and can maintain contact and the organisms that produce it are well nourished.
These same microorganisms can also be applied to a wound or in a sterilized space to cause them to undergo a conversion, going from their original form to becoming cells of the chosen living being. With this, wounds can be sealed or even organs can be created from scratch, as long as the user knows what their structure is like and the cells that should form it and in what order they should be placed.
And this is the whole system, I'm sorry it's been so long. I hope to know what you think about this and I would like to hear any suggestions or ideas :D
I hope you have a good day

So we know the sun will become a red giant someday, probably big enough to reach the orbit of Mercury and Venus, and maybe even Earth. But think about it. From Earth, the sun looks like a speck. Compared to the sun, the Earth is barely even visible. Like, if you scaled the sun down to a golf ball, and then scaled the earth down to be accurately sized relative to that golf ball, I don't think you'd even be able to see the Earth.
And the sun doesn't gain mass often.
So my question is... Is the sun just so dense that it's cramming a BUNCH of material into its core insanely close, or are red giant stars just so not dense (is there a word for that by the way?) that they expand WAY past what the sun was before? Or is it a mix of both? Going from very dense to very not dense? I know the density depends on the part of the sun you're talking about, so just know I'm asking about the overall density of the whole object together and not the density of specific parts. An average, if you will.

Chapter One
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Prev
-Rooftop of the White Flame Factory-
Grigory smiled nervously at his men as they lounged on the rooftop patio. As the sun sank lower, he was happy to see them relax after the day's tensions. He’d wanted to give them their imps when they first arrived, or after the demonstration, but they seemed a little too skittish. Their reactions were causing him to doubt his strategy. If his most loyal supporters were repelled by them, wider acceptance was going to be a non-trivial hurdle. He’d been working on an improved version of the imps for months, but making them less threatening, or light forbid, ‘cute’, seemed deeply at odds with his plans. He hoped time might be the missing ingredient. Once they get a bit more familiar with them, they’ll come around. The imps were really nothing for them to fear.
The demonologist sat alone, observing how his men were dealing with the news. He was deep in thought, adjusting his plans and ruminating on his concerns. Was he forcing them to do things they weren’t comfortable with? The basis of his entire plan was that the whole world was to benefit from the imps, so it had to start somewhere, or he might as well give up. They seemed to be taking it as well as he could have hoped.
Catching a wisp of savoury smells, he thought it was scarcely fair to relax while Stanisk was busy in the kitchen. He rose to see if he could lend a hand with dinner. During their overland trek to the capital months ago, it was clear that Stanisk was a superlative cook, but Grigory was a dexterous helper. Much of what he knew about surgical techniques had been picked up preparing meals.
Grigory arrived at the great hall that served as the eating area. In the centre of the chamber, two long tables stretched across the room, capable of seating fifty, though only four simple chairs he had crafted a few weeks ago were present. His men had yet to grasp the potential of the imps' labour; instead of proper seating, they had improvised with crates and timbers haphazardly arranged around the tables. Near one table, a jute sack of potatoes lay abandoned on the floor, possibly mistaken for a makeshift seat. Grigory hoped they'd be eating the potatoes, not sitting on them.
Separated from the hall by a low half-wall, the kitchen bustled with activity. Stanisk sat on the thick timber counter, a casual sentinel over dinner’s preparations, while Jourgun and Klive stood nearby, deep in conversation with their commander.
Stanisk’s five imps, in their fancy clothes, dashed around the kitchen. Under his expert guidance they were preparing a grand feast. One was peeling potatoes, another stirred a great bubbling pot, while two were doing dishes.
“Sir, did you know that Stanisk’s imps have names? And fancy clothes! Can I have one like his?” Klive blurted when he saw his employer. “Uh, as it pleases milord, of course.”
“Plus mine bow when they bring us beers! They don't do that fresh out of hell!” Stanisk's toothy smile implied he might have been bowed at by imps a half dozen times already.
Grigory tilted his head and blinked for a second.
Surely a bit of clothes can’t have that much of an impact on their acceptance?
“Oh, Of course! Certainly!” he paused again. “Feel free to ask Stanisk for tips on how he made his.” Observing the bustling activity, “It looks like dinner is well in hand?” The kitchen was huge, far larger than the one at Planed Pine Peak Inn. A half dozen dishes simmered or baked, their aromas — exotic spices, rich gravies, and roasted meats filled the expansive space.
Stanisk replied without glancing away from the imps handling the tasks. “Well in hand, boss. Take ‘er easy tonight!” The imps' movements were quick and fluid, their antics distractingly comical at times. Grigory watched, smiling, as one imp hugged a yam to its chest that likely weighed more than it did, and made its way along the countertop from the vegetable sack to the cutting board. Each step was an exaggerated sway, the creature was badly top-heavy and teetering.
With effort he pulled his focus back, “Capital! I’ve a matter to attend to! Smells great already!”
Grigory went into the factory proper to whip up enough chairs for everyone. Simple wooden ones for now, but with cushions. Cushions were quick enough to make and he had a few cart loads of wool and woollen fabrics. He watched his imps work, glad he could share them with his whole team now. Obviously it made everything a bit riskier, but it was worth it. One of his concerns was that he’d been overlooking opportunities and uses. He was bound by only being able to think his own thoughts, so he was excited to see what non-demonologists would think of.
They carved and joined the pine chairs with their normal speed and accuracy, but watching them sew was its own reward. The imps wielded needles like longswords in their tiny hands, the points moving too fast to see clearly. They stacked up the plain cushions in a neat pile at the end of their low workbench.
He also didn’t have any utensils, placemats, serving spoons nor trivets either, since this was their first proper meal here. He commanded the imps to make those as well, and carry them like a row of ants from the workshop to the dining hall. The demonologist walked around the table, surveying his work. With a minor gesture of flame he lit the lamps, and frowned at the beige-grey of undyed wool of the chair cushions.
He pulled the chairs out, and one at a time enchanted the cushions to bright, cheerful colours. He was going to make them all company purple, but thought better of it. Enchanting colours was a fun spell to cast, because the act of changing its colour also unravelled enchantment as it went. Much like building and knocking over houses of cards, the end effect was a mundane unenchanted object, but in whatever colour he’d chosen. Having done the spell countless times for entire days to prepare for the midsummer tourney, he didn’t even have to check his notes for any of the hues.
Satisfied with his work, though slightly frustrated that his first and last red cushions weren’t quite the same shade, he sat down. He pulled a notebook out of his satchel and started making notes on his ideas for some improvements, mostly for his own use, but some to the things he’d be soon selling. Lost in his own world, he had no idea how much time had passed when Ros and Taritha joined him at the table.
“Good evening, milord,” Ros said deferentially.
The young herbalist elbowed him, “Come on, he had one rule! He was writing!”
“Oh! Terribly sorry, sir!” Ros stammered.
“Not at all, I was basically doodling. How’s your evening going, is everything to your liking?” Grigory closed his notebook and put it away.
“Amazing milord, These rooms are huge! They're bigger than some of the houses I was looking at!” Taritha said.
“Of course! No one wants to live in dingy cells! Glad to hear! It’s easy to make a place bigger when you are building fresh. Let me know if you find anything that needs fixing, our builders are still in town working on the harbour fortress now, but I can have them send someone if there is anything amiss!”
“I don’t reckon neither of us knew palaces this nice existed anywhere, milord!” Ros said with a shrug. “We might not be the best eyes for finding faults!”
“Heh! This is just the rustic first stage! Don’t worry about its crudeness for now, we’ll get there over time!” the demonologist promised, patting his satchel where the notebook of ideas was. His confidence was both unshakeable and unnecessary.
“Not to question your plans, but there are a lot more rooms than people. Are we expecting company? Are we hiring?” Taritha asked. Her eyebrows twitched slightly, having just questioned his plan for the first time.
“Big plans indeed! So that empty stretch east of the main building? That’s also part of our land grant. In a while we’ll be building a barracks there for our troops, while senior officers will stay in the main factory. That’s also why Stanisk will be taking a much more active role with civil defence. It’s central to our plan to secure the town, and by extension our own safety.”
“Our troops? Like us?” Jourgun asked, having joined them at the long table.
“Maybe? Probably not? We’ll see. The plan is to extensively recruit as we can afford it, since the pirate raid was just the beginning. We have something of incredible value, in the form of me, the imps and the factory itself. Many violent people feel they should possess every valuable thing, so we must be vigilant. Not to worry though! That’s just us planning for the worst. In reality, nothing like that will likely happen. Just by being well defended we’ll scare off the greedy.”
“Ah, like why it's dangerous for a beggar to wear a silk robe!” Rikad added as he joined them, along with a few others. The smells from the kitchen were intoxicatingly rich now, as Stanisk and Klive used the imps to finish and plate the meal.
“Just so, a lord can only have what he can defend, and because the first phases of my plan require a certain level of material wealth, I’ll need extensive defences,” Grigory explained as diplomatically as he could.
“The Empire itself will fear our might, milord!” Ros said excitedly.
“Nah, it won’t. That’s a dangerous thought. The Imperial army’s smallest deployable force is a legion, near enough to five thousand men. Even if we hit every hiring and training target, we’se not going to be in the business of fightin’ wars. Just enough to make us a spiky nut. The sort not worth chompin’,’” Stanisk called over from the kitchen.
“Oh,” Ros said, shrinking back into his seat.
“That’s more than all the men in the whole town!” Taritha lamented.
“Yeah, that’s why lil fishing villages don’t win wars. A legion is five thousand infantry with warships, supplies, siege cohorts, and command companies. If’n it’s a real fight, then they might deploy all ten Imperial legions. Then start raising more if’n they’re losing. We ain’t never gonna try to fight that. No nation in the world has ever picked that fight and won.”
To counter the grim tone settling over his celebratory dinner, Grigory chimed in with a reassuring smile, “We’re loyal Hyruxian subjects, and the legions protect us. We pay taxes in full, we’re on the right side of all this. We just want a bit of security against more, uh, regional actors. Besides, a large well equipped force lends our diplomacy weight we wouldn’t otherwise have.”
Now that the table was filling up and his men looked satisfied with his answers, he raised his voice to the kitchen, “How’s it going in there?”
“Good! I bought a deer from one of the hunters this morning, and it turned out just right!” Stanisk replied, personally putting the finishing touches on his creation. Aethlina moved across the kitchen to watch Stanisk work, making Grigory do a double take. He hadn’t realised she was even in the building.
“Oh! Capital! Everyone in the entire company is here now! Even better!” Grigory said, motioning Aethlina to sit by him. He was glad he’d made the full number of chairs!
Stanisk and Klive brought out plates heaped with slices of braised venison, steamed tubers and sautéed onions. Tubs of butter, bowls of gravy, and finally a heaping basket of fresh buns followed. Stanisk took his seat and, smiling with pride, “What’re you helpless kittens lookin’ at? Never seen dinner ‘afore? Dig in!”
The feast was a perfect end to a troubling day, and even though the conversation died down as they ate, Grigory observed every single one of his hirelings intently, relieved to see not a single one seemed put off by a meal made by demons. Catching Stanisk’s eye, he made an empty cup gesture.
“Imps! Bring us all some drinks! Wine, beer and water!” Stanisk shouted to his imps. With speed and efficiency, the little demons filled clay cups and brought everyone three drinks, exactly as ordered.
“Ah, dammit, I meant—It’s fine. Drink what you want and I’ll just dump the rest!” The chief of security’s good humour faded for an instant before returning twice as bright.
“No, I love having three drinks! And the water and beer are cold! In the summer! The gods themselves envy me!” Rikad declared.
“Uh oh! It looks like Mage Thippily made imps, but the imps made the real monster!” Kedril retorted, gesturing at Rikad holding three cups between his hands, rotating them to drink out of each, while spilling beer all over his own arm.
Their high spirits encouraged Grigory. He’d worried they would be morose and frightened tonight, after making them to live in what could be described as a hive of demons. Joking about the imps was beyond his expectations, so he smiled without speaking, sipping his red wine. Not his cherished Malaentian Red, but a nice varietal from the mainland he’d recently imported a few cases of. Once the plates were empty, Stanisk had the imps clear the table and start washing up while everyone remained seated at the long pine table, bellies full to bursting.
“That was spectacular Stanisk! Thank you!” Grigory offered, and everyone else chimed in a breath later.
“Nothing like a lifetime of bland ration bars for months to really spark an interest in what good food ought to be! I’m glad ya’se liked it,” the big veteran said dismissively.
“How is everyone finding their new accommodations? I know I don’t have all the furniture done just yet, but is everyone good for tonight?” Grigory asked, ever the eager host.
The men nodded and looked at each other. Complaining was frowned upon and nothing here was remotely a hardship.
“Capital! Glad to hear it, and by all means bring it to my attention if your needs are unmet!” Grigory sat still and everyone kept looking at him.
Now’s as good a time as any. It’s not even a surprise, I think I mentioned it a few times already.
“Ahem! So! I’d like to present each of you with your own imps! Some ground rules though; there may be people that aren’t ready for this style of magic, so I ask that you don’t mention anything about them anywhere outside of the factory. Or even imply there are any magical creatures, just that things get made here?”
He waited until they all at least nodded.
“Alright! Here you go, I have one for everyone! The imps are identical, so don’t worry about which ones you get. Um. Good luck?” With a shrug he reached down beside his chair and from a leather case he pulled a series of carved wooden boxes, and passed them out to everyone sitting at the table.
***
With a muted clatter, Taritha watched as the small dark boxes were distributed. She wasn’t sure if there was one for her, being fairly new to the company. She wasn’t sure how she felt; owning demons seemed like a big step, but the ancient urge to possess something nice or powerful was one she wasn’t immune to. Her heart leapt as a heavy box slid in front of her.
With trepidation, she touched it with one finger; it appeared to be regular wood, perhaps stained oak. The box was small and rectangular, quite thin, and she held it easily in one hand. It was narrow enough to fit comfortably between her thumb and fingers, its weight noticeable but not oppressive. She had expected dread, palpable evil, or something, but it just felt a bit heavy. Turning it over, she saw no visible clasps or hinges. The outside was covered in the flawless ornate carvings she was starting to grow familiar with. This time, the carvings depicted joyful industrial scenes—strong men swinging square hammers, smoke stacks, and laden ships and carts. The central image on each side was gilded with gold leaf, making it strikingly dignified.
Ignoring the excitement and increasing movement around her, she felt as if she were in her own universe. She slowly pulled on the lid, finding it opened on tiny hidden hinges, revealing three ebony totems inside. They were the size and shape of a fairytale wand, resting on a bed of lush green velvet, held in place by a broad ribbon tied in a perfect bow.
Even without considering the priceless nature of the artefacts, she was impressed, almost distracted, by the quality of the presentation. He didn’t have to go to such lengths; she’d expected them to be simply handed to her.
She slid one of the totems out without undoing the bow. It was cool and heavy but otherwise seemed normal. She could see layers of impossibly fine carving, this time gilded with silver. She could sense the potent magic in the object, but it felt strange. She’d examined other enchanted items before, and their enchantments were all transcendently beautiful in a complex and technical way. This was so dense it felt like nothing. Or perhaps everything? She wasn’t sure, but it wasn’t at all like the other objects. Stilling herself and trying to puzzle out its secrets brought her no closer to any revelation. She shook her head and resolved to investigate further in private. She returned the totem to its place in the box and gently closed it.
Only now did she notice the table was thick with imps, more than twenty darting and leaping energetically. Her colleagues had summoned theirs and were already giving orders.
“You two, throw the third imp as high as you can!”
“Merp!”
“All of you, cross the table as fast as you can, but walk on your hands!”
“Merp!”
“Duel with these forks!”
“Merp! Merp!”
The men were laughing and pointing between shouting out fresh orders. All the commands were pointless and frivolous, making Taritha powerfully uncomfortable. These were forces of nature, extraplanar beings of unimaginable power, and they were being made to sprint into empty mugs to see how far the mug would fly!?
She shot a questioning look to the master demonologist to gauge his reaction. He was smiling and complimenting their creativity, so maybe she was overreacting? Still, she had no interest in wasting them on silly games. Emergencies only. Or at least serious concerns only. Not for dodging knotted linen napkins, that’s for sure!
With the burden of responsibility successfully dodged, she was free to watch everyone else’s fun. The cacophony of excitement was so infectious that she found herself giggling and pointing at them racing as makeshift horses, with an imp bent over holding the tiny waist of the imp in front of him, while a third one sat atop as a rider. They were so silly looking and energetic.
“You’re sure this doesn’t hurt or anger them?” Taritha asked.
“Oh my no, it’s not like that at all. They have minds, but lack awareness, or awareness of their own mind I guess? It’s fine! They are just made out of the same stuff as demons, but not actually demonic.” The mage stood up and stretched. “They are remarkably durable, it’s unlikely anything short of silvered steel will harm them. I, on the other hand, am at risk of being badly over-tired already! I trust you will be okay, left on your own! I’ll see you in the morning!”
“I’se properly tired too, but if you want, let's pop into the factory and I’ll show you how to get them to make their own clothes. It’s just tellin’ ‘em to do that, so you’se might not need too much hand holding!” Stanisk pushed himself away from the long table, and motioned for them to follow him.
They went into the cavernous factory, just across the hallway. What was an impressive and huge room in the daylight was now an infinite blackness, like a starless night. A few men had grabbed leviathan-oil lamps off the table, and they huddled in a small circle of warm, safe light. They gathered around a long low table, and Stanisk laid out a few bolts of fabric. The fine weaves were familiar to Taritha; they were the same as those used in the clothes she’d been getting from the company.
“It’s simple enough,” Stanisk said as he put a heavy leather bag of tools on the table. “Just say what you want, with as much or as little detail, and they’ll just make that.”
“Imps, make a suit of legion plate armour, imp-sized, out of shoe leather!” Rikad said with glee.
“Merp!” replied several at once, as they began cutting and forming the leather without hesitation. The imps even used grey wool for the under-mail parts, and tiny flares of hellfire to warp the leather into the right shapes. Soon, a tiny suit of black armour lay on the table, looking like what an imperial heavy infantryman would wear, but distorted to the proportions of the gawky imps.
“I dub thee, Imperial commander, Real Imp. Don thy armour!” Rikad ordered. “Do they remember their names?” he asked over his shoulder to Stanisk.
“Oh yeah, they’re proper sharp!” he confirmed.
“Create an imp-sized lord's robe with a sash of office! When it is done, you shall be known as D’Imp Lomat! I might need a minute to think of the last one though…” Rikad said to everyone watching his imps.
Reluctantly, Taritha opened the box and invoked her three imps. She looked at them closely; as far as she could tell, they were perfectly interchangeable with every other imp.
Looking over the fabrics, she chose a striking blue, a deep red, and a golden yellow. “Imps! Make imp-sized sundresses, mainly white with these colours as a main theme. and matching coloured sun hats,” she added hastily. Their heads were distractingly inhuman, so covering them might help. She watched them work, even interrupting a few times to ask for embroidered details and minor adjustments. Once they finished, she had them don their new outfits.
Oh! The hems seem scandalously short on their long lanky legs! Better than before, but not by a lot.
“Imps, please put on the hats that match the colour of your dress.”
“Merp.”
Much better! They look like ladies now!
“You are now Lady Bluebird, Lady Crossbill, and…” She paused at the last one, thinking of songbirds that were as bright yellow as the fabric. “Miss Goldfinch!”
She leaned back and admired her little ladies. They were far less threatening now, and their dull crimson skin really made the dresses look extra vibrant.
“Dang Taritha, how did you make yours so pretty? I want some pretty ones!” Jourgun commented as he looked over.
“Drool over your own demons! These are mine!” she said playfully. There was an undercurrent of possessiveness that she didn’t expect, but these ones were hers now. “Anyways, I’m going to bed too, you guys are too slow! Have fun, boys!” she said as she devoked her imps. The new clothes fell to the work surface.
“Oh yeah, they don’t take that with ‘em, wherever they go, so just keep it in a lil bag or whatever,” Stanisk said when he saw her distress. “They gotta get dressed every time you invoke it,” he shrugged.
So much to learn today!
With a brave smile, she replaced the totems in the box and gathered the dresses and hats. “Mind if I take…” she said as she slowly lifted a lamp from near Rikad.
“Oh yeah, all yours,” he said dismissively, fully engrossed in examining the tiny lordly robes of D’Imp Lomat.
She went back to the hall, up the wide even stairs to the third floor. She’d only spent a bit of time investigating it earlier, as she and Ros had been anxious about being late for dinner. She saw the heap of her worldly possessions against the wall where she’d left them. The only furniture here was the bed, but by the sounds of it, getting some tables, chairs, and wardrobes would be easy enough tomorrow. She placed the totem box and the tiny outfits on the floor beside the bed.
The bed itself was unlike any she’d ever heard of. Crafted with thick pine beams and topped with a mattress of imported cotton, it was probably wider than her entire hovel. A family of five could sleep on it and barely touch. She couldn’t imagine a more lordly bed. Its refined look and the luxurious softness were worlds apart from the coarse fabric and straw she was used to. Sometimes in the fall, she’d add freshly fallen leaves to her straw mattress for extra comfort, but that was a fleeting pleasure. This bed, however, promised constant comfort. She eyed the pile of heavy blankets at the foot of the bed. Recently, she had bought a single blanket from the market, thin and scratchy, but these were the mage’s blankets—thick, plush, and impossibly soft.
She shut the heavy door and took off her tall boots. The floor felt smooth under her bare feet. Even having a floor was a new luxury; she was accustomed to hard-packed dirt floors like most everyone else. This wasn’t just a floor; it was a delicate herringbone pattern of different kinds of wood, obviously done by the agile imps. It was cleaner, smoother, and more level than any table she’d eaten off before the mage came to town.
She stopped admiring the floor and stripped to her shift. She felt exposed being so undressed around so many men. She reasoned it out—the iron and oak door was stronger than a hide flap, and this would doubtlessly be the safest sleep of her life. Just a reaction, not a reality. She left the lamp on the floor and got in bed.
With a panic, she yelped as the whole bed flowed underneath her, as if she’d stepped on the tail of a sleeping cat. She tried to get up but her feet were already off the floor, and she couldn’t find a stable purchase with her hands. She froze up to think her way out of it, and the bed stopped moving almost as soon as she did.
Her heart pounded in her chest.
Was this an enchantment gone awry? Some bed demon?
Slowly, she log-rolled towards the edge of the bed, and the mattress under her also slowly moved, but not enough to stop her. Slow and steady, she might get free yet. Finally, she was close enough to put a foot down and stand. The bed flowed back to being perfectly flat.
She stood up, with a hand to her sternum, trying to catch her breath.
Think! What did the mage say about this today? It would magically adjust? Maybe that was all it was doing?
She leaned over and gently pushed down with a single fist. It was super pliable, then increasingly firm. But it felt unlike anything else—stacks of clothes or hides all felt different when they got pressed.
It must be magic. No time to be timid, and it would be humiliating to go to either the mage or the chief about this.
The only spell she could reliably cast was a gesture of Mana-Visualization. It caused the invisible lines of arcane energy to glow visibly, in bright colours that hinted at their use and purpose. She cast it to better examine her bed. It wasn’t enchanted as she expected; rather, hundreds and hundreds of things inside it were, and they linked and overlapped in ways she wouldn’t understand if she studied enchantments for a decade. She involuntarily took a step back from it, like finding a hundred warhorses inside a small cabinet.
She dismissed the gesture. With renewed determination, she slowly sat down on the bed. It shifted but only a bit. It was very soft and comfortable. Slowly, she turned and laid back, fighting her panic as the mattress kept shifting everywhere her body touched it, unnervingly lifelike. Fully laying down, she stopped and the mattress stopped. Even as her eyes were still wide with terror, she started to calm down. To test her theories, she rolled onto her side, and the mattress under her hip grew softer, and the part under her ribs grew firmer, until the pressure equalised. Rolling back, she felt it shift again, and once more the mattress's firmness changed all up and down her body, stopping once it was the same shape as her body’s pressure, resulting in sublime comfort.
Oh. This is incredible. I get it now!
She reached to the foot of the bed, pulled one of the soft blankets up to her chin, reached down to extinguish the lamp and drifted off into a better sleep than anyone in the history of her family ever had.
Prev

Hello mold subreddit. First time reddit poster here. Thank you in advance for any insight you can offer to my case. In what follows, I'm going to first describe the health journey that led to my mold discoveries and questions, so please bear with me through the health stuff. I have included excessive detail in the hopes that my case might help others navigate possible mold problems.
If you don't feel like reading all the below, the tl:dr version: After struggling with unknown health issues for 15 months, I eventually linked my symptoms to my new home and subsequently discovered very high volatile organic chemical levels. I linked the VOCs to mold. I also had a mold inspection done, and the results are at the bottom of this post. The levels of mold were high in my kitchen and bathroom. However, oddly, the mold levels in the outside control group were much higher than inside. Can anyone help me understand how high my indoor mold levels are? Does anyone know whether the outdoor levels are reasonably normal? Is my specific blend of mold types implicated in neurological symptoms for others? And if anyone has dealt with mold before, do my possible mold symptoms described below seem similar to ones that you've had?
I bought my townhome in late 2022. Within four months, I started having new neurological symptoms. These symptoms started with a postural tremor in my left index finger and thumb. The same hand eventually began to appear smaller and shriveled, especially around my thumb. I also started having extremely frequent muscle twitches and jerks. These twitches take three general forms:

1. The most common is an odd sensation of something wiggling under my skin. These primarily happen in my face, around my mouth, my butt/legs, and ribs.
2. A pulsing regular beat in a muscle that lasts for several seconds and in some cases longer. These usually happen near joints, especially just above my elbows and knees. These are almost always visible to the naked eye.
3. A sensation of rapid vibrating underneath the skin that lasts briefly. These vibrations are usually not visible but you can feel them if you press a hand over the area.

The twitches and apparent change to my hand have lasted for 16 months. At this point, the tissue loss in my thumb is also apparent in my forearm and upper left arm. My leg on the same side arm appears different and feels as if it has lost some muscle. I also have frequent trembling with specific muscles when I flex them. For example, sometimes when I try to hold a smile my face muscles will shake or give out. My neck tissues are especially liable to shake and vibrate when flexed, such as when doing tasks like flossing where I need to hold my lips back. On a few separate occasions, I have felt slight paralysis on one side of my face for an evening or so that then mysteriously goes away.
Aside from these neurological symptoms, I also have had frequent hoarseness, sneezing, jaw pain, and headaches. My joints often feel like they are more bony and poppy, especially in my left knee and knuckles. In addition, I've had a lot of issues with one ear on the same side as the shriveled hand. The ear had an apparent infection or cloudiness 12 months ago that went away, it then had recurrent pulsatile tinnitus, and now it just occasionally hurts at random times. There have been many other symptoms.
I have seen two neurologists, an endocrinologist, an ear-nose-throat doctor, and an orthopedic doctor. I've had countless tests done including two electromyographies (EMGs) over my whole body several months apart, an MRI, and a lyme disease blood panel. Every test has been normal, although the orthopedic doctor suggested possible thoracic outlet syndrome. The neurologist said my nerves are quite robust. My borrelia blood panel came back negative, although as a side note I did have a tick bite in early 2022 that caused a rash. I was treated for Lyme with 10 days of doxycycline. The tick bite itself still occasionally flares up red and its timing might be correlated with my symptoms.
Back to the house-- I was on a two week vacation out of state and noticed my twitches go away. Then I saw my arm become more normal sized again and the veins start to come back. I didn't feel the same joint issues, had no hoarseness, lost the headaches. All the symptoms came back as soon as I returned home, but nevertheless after that vacation and subsequent extended trips, I was able to conclude with a reasonable level of confidence that these symptoms are linked to the house. I bought an air filter and an air quality monitor that shows volatile organic chemicals, PM, formaldehyde, and C02.
Using the air quality monitor, I discovered that volatile organic chemicals (VOCs) and formaldehyde were usually abnormally high and sometimes extremely high. VOCs are usually above safety thresholds at >0.5 mg/m3 and formaldehyde >0.1 mg/m3. Sometimes, the VOC levels will stay consistently above 1.8mg/m3. I witnessed them reach a peak level of 5mg/3 in one bedroom late at night when I was woken up by a feeling of shortness of breath. I tried but failed to correlate these high VOCs to electronics, chemical sources in the home, cooking sources, heaters, and cleaning supplies. The way the VOCs would spike all over the house for no apparent reason in the evening helped me rule out some of these other possibilities. I also actively removed other sources.
Eventually, I realized that the VOCs were likely caused by mold, so-called microbial VOCs. The formaldehyde could also be explained by mold. The levels of VOCs would spike on rainy days, when the humidity was high inside, and in the evening. I don't think any other chemical source near the house would display this pattern. It took me a while to reach this conclusion because the mold issue in my house isn't too obvious. The house has always had a slight musty smell, especially if the air is stagnant for a while. The bathroom also has recurring mold growth on a tiles, in the shower, and on the various shower liners. A couple cabinets in the kitchen have always smelled musty. I didn't think these obvious signs of mold growth were that big of a deal, but given the extremely high levels of VOCs I now believe the mold has always been the issue.
Once I realized it was likely mold, I started noticing all the signs. The house is about 100 years old. The prior two owners of this house each moved out within five months. The house is not ventilated except from windows. It sits in a damp area near where water puddles up in the yard. It's mostly solid brick, so the house frame has a way of trapping hot air and releasing a lot of moisture onto the floors each evening. There's also a cheap layer of vinyl flooring throughout that could easily cover up a massive mold problem underneath. Finally, the townhome sits on top of an old shared crawl space that was used as a furnace. It has had known water puddling issues for which reason a vapor guard was installed underneath my first floor.
So, I had a mold inspection done. The results are at the bottom of this post. The bathroom results might be diluted because I left the window open the night before. Nevertheless, both my kitchen and bathroom had mold detected at levels between 6480 - 12,300 spores/m3. Oddly, the outdoor levels of all of the molds were often much higher, 3-6 fold higher than the levels indoors. It was a humid day, but it still seems odd for me that an outdoor space could have higher levels than indoors.
On later reading about my specific mold spores and neurological symptoms, I noticed that the two most elevated groups of spores in my house, ascospores and basidiospores, are the same class as all of the funguses known to have colonized the nervous system of ALS patients according to this published article. Those specific types of fungus found in the nerves of ALS patients are Candida, Malassezia, Fusarium, Botrytis, Trichoderma, and Cryptococcus. It naturally led me to wonder if my chronic als-type neurological symptoms could be caused by some latent fungal infection in my body that gradually improves when I'm away from the home.
Wrapping up this thread, I have a bunch of questions.

• Does anyone have the same kinds of molds (see below) in their home and have the ability to speak to how problematic my levels are from their own experience?
• Why would the outdoor control be so high? I do compost and garden, but all of the compost is buried underground.
• Is my specific blend of mold types implicated in neurological symptoms?
• Do my symptoms seem similar to mold-related symptoms that you might have had? I'm trying to figure out if mold is a likely culprit or if I should keep seeking help for possible tickborne illness or other issues.
• Should my mold levels be a cause to stay away from this house as much as possible? Should I ever return?
• Do I need to throw away all my belongings like books clothes and sheets?
• Would a very high quality HEPA air purifier make any difference?
• Is there some kind of public health representative that could help me navigate this or a type of mold doctor who could help me investigate the causes of my symptoms and seek the right kinds of medication?
• Do you have any other advice for someone in my situation?

My mold inspection results

While many if not most people would find windowless apartments preposterous, it may be possible that high enough percentage of people would be willing to be without windows if that saves them money or for some other advantage. Remember that people can have stranger desires and acceptances than that. North of arctic circle in winter, windows have little use anyway. If somebody spends 10 hours a day outdoors, there is not much urge to look outdoors from indoors too through glass, but the building could be such that windows are on common space corridors where one could easily walk in indoor clothing.
If the building is five or ten apartments thick, there is less circumference & 3d-surface area per volume, which means less heat dissipation in heating seasons and more energy-efficiency.
Construction per volume is cheaper.
It needs less land per volume and per inhabitant compared to the normal 2 apartment thick buildings. One related upside is that nature around the building can be in bigger contiguous pieces rather than small pieces of green between buildings.
It needs multiple technological solutions to make it more palatable. Here are some:
Need lots of air pipes, so better have 1 meter of extra height with ceiling and extra-wide corridors. The pipes would be in corridors, so higher ceiling in rooms would somewhat compensate for lack of windows. Some air pipes go to sides, some to roof.
Every room with many lights all over the ceiling, and many light switches, some with color adjustment knobs with one physical wheel for every 3 color channels( red, green, blue ) Need to be able to switch on only those lamps that are not within field of view.
Every apartment could have door to 2 different corridors on opposite sides, 2 doors.
Equivalent to opening window for ventilation would be putting air pipe fans on extra speed. Direction of airflow could be decided based on wind direction outside, maybe automatically, so air flows inside along the air flow outside (but usually slower).
Backup batteries for 2 days of normal use. Maybe sodium-ion batteries.
Other technical solutions may be needed besides those mentioned here.
One version could be that some large apartments are really long and have window in only one room.
Windows are less important for hotel rooms, so hotels first. Maybe have building that has apartments with windows on the outer edge while hotel rooms are in the core.
Upside of no external wall or window is avoiding noise from cars, dogs, planes and thunder.
Upside of common space windows is 360 degree visibility on all heights, from inside the building as a whole, and especially if the building is octagon-shaped.
Everyone likes room windows, but others give it a different weight relative to other considerations. In some areas, there might be a choice between having 1000 people living in streets, 1000 people living in windowless apartments or 500 people living in windowed apartments+500 people living in streets.
Making something worse to make something else better is a tricky type of idea to argue for.
Any atrium, courtyard or lighting well inevitably increases heat flow to outside, even if covered with glass. Firstly, it is more surface area for the building. Secondly, warm air rises up and heat conducts through the roof glass much faster than through rock wool+concrete. Glass is thinner and has higher thermal conductivity than concrete or some insulation material.
In a big building, atrium is basically a dark alley, not providing enough illumination for most things, so on that alone it is questionable expense to pay for the extra walls, atrium windows, room windows etc.
Atrium or courtyard is needlessly large for ventilation. Stairwells and elevator shafts can take some of that too.
If the atmospheric air is behind a window, it means heat dissipation and the apartment is on the edge at least partially. If there is some sort of shaft / square and wide pipe / atrium vertically inside building, that means space not used as living space, regardless if it is for light and air or just for light(window covered shaft). That shaft and the windows also cost money. Also noise of planes and thunder come from there. But it is good option somewhere for some people, just like windowless apartments are good option for others.
For example, the Pentagon building with it's multiple rings does not count as donut-shaped solid, unlike the Apple building.
Atrium means choosing more construction expense, more heat transfer to outside, more noise and more walking distance to some apartments. Sometimes those are ok choices for the whole, but in my opinion, world has enough atriums already ( and overly large windows ) and energy saving should be much higher priority instead.

I had the most visceral experience the other night upon re-reading Dark Age. Allow me to set the scene. I'm laying on the living love seat reading on my kindle, and my wife is on the other couch watching Godzilla (2014) I haven't seen this movie since 2014 and I pretty much forgot about it all together.
I just flipped to chapter 10, The Ash Rain where Lysander is falling in his first ever rain for the fight for Mercury. As I start reading this paragraph of Lysander describing his experience being launched from the spot tube:

"I surge forward. Urine streams into the catheter. My stomach drops to my heels. My vision flickers; a ball of vomit catches halfway up my esophagus as blackness crawls at the corner of my sight. By the time I remember to breathe, the Annihilo is already twenty kilometers behind me." - Lysander

I start hearing the song Requiem by György Legeti which I recognize and associate in my mind with 2001 A Space Odyssey (one of my favorite movies). Confused, I look up and see this scene playing out on the TV screen.
I continue to read while half paying attention to this scene playing out:

"Only then do I look up and gape at the grandeur. The invasion sweeps along in its silent song. Ahead, the silhouette of Ajax’s starShell is dark against the nightside of the onrushing planet. It flickers like white phosphorus as the particle cannons of the Annihilo and her gunships lance diagonally across the horizon and toward the breach. The energy beams illuminate streams of starShells all around me. Hundreds of men in metal. And yet they form little more than a tributary of the great flooding river gushing from the fleets of the Two Hundred lesser houses, and giants Grimmus, Falthe, Carthii, and Votum. The vanguard of our force falls, uncontested." - Lysander

At this point I have visible goose bumps on my arms. As I'm hearing this really weird and unsettling/disturbing music, reading this scene and imagining myself from Lysanders perspective in an iron rain.
I just found the two scenes syncing up really odd but also incredible. Red Rising really needs to make it to the cinema in my lifetime. I would love to see an iron rain beset with Requiem and maybe heavy breathing and indistinguishable comms chatter but mostly silence while chaos swirls all around on the silver screen.
Idk why I even wrote this post. I just can't stop thinking about it and I guess I wanted to share with anyone who cares to read.

Torn to shreds, the wreckage of the ship flew helplessly around the dying ship, the Geller field begins to slowly fade, as do those psykers who must keep it in working order while in an unbroken sleep. Indescribable horrors begin to seep through the shell of the ship, filling the decks with their demonic presence, tearing apart people who were not lucky enough to fall into the bottomless and bloodthirsty mouths of these soulless creatures. Throngs of techno priests and crewmembers rush through the dark corridors, illuminated only by the red light of emergency lamps, who are trying to hold the still surviving parts of the dying ship. The guardsman, who clearly differed in height from his comrades, carried in his hands, blackened with soot and oil, a box of tools for the priests who are trying to set up the ship's auspex in order to send a signal for help to the nearest ship of the faithful to the emperor.
Suddenly, a deafening roar went through the narrow corridor, followed by the scream of one of the demons, who managed to break through the protective perimeter, the stream of people changed direction and rushed with greater speed, knocking some off their feet, condemning them to certain death from the stream of people or the claws of the creature rushing after its victims. The guardsman was unlucky and, like other “lucky ones”, was knocked down. Noticing a small crevice, he crawled towards his hope of escape through rushing legs that stumbled over his relatively small body. Having grouped himself, he took out a small aquila on a chain from his breast pocket and began to whisper prayers to the emperor. The bloodthirsty scream began to approach, and after a few seconds he felt the heavy breathing of the creature that towered over him. Afraid to raise his head, he tightened his grip on the aquilla and began to recite the litany of protection. Almost at the same moment, the heavy tramp of boots encased in hardened ceramite plates was heard along the corridor from the side from which the creature arrived. The trampling grew louder and the creature that towered over the guardsman let out a deafening scream, but at the same moment it subsided as a small explosion literally vaporized the creature's head. The body fell with a crash and after a while, the sound of boots stopped near the place where the little defender of the empire was hiding. With a noise, the unknown man got down on one knee. The guardsman tremblingly raised his head and saw in front of him a tall man clad in black armor shimmering with turquoise energy. The helmet lenses of the same color stared coldly into the guardsman's face.

• Tell me, child. – The giant began – are you afraid of what lurks in the depths of the void?

* If someone knows where can i post stuff like this please tell me

Hi everyone! I'm trying to build a pulse oximeter based off of an Arduino Uno. I have fiddled with Arduino and the basic components since forever: resistors, LEDs, buttons and such, but I'm trying to find potentially better components to use.
For the pulse oximeter, I need to LEDs of wavelengths: 950-960nm IR LED and 600-660nm red LED.
I'm trying to find and buy parts on DigiKey, but I'm getting a little confused from all the choices. First of all, I'm looking at this category, which allows me to pick the exact wavelength (range) I need. But are the items in here any different from normal LEDs? (it's called "LED Emitters," not sure if there are any distinctions)
I'm familiar with LEDs that look like this one, but am unsure if it is just as simple as using a digital pin and ground pin the Uno to control it, or if I should look for a specific operating current/voltage. My second question is: What should I look out for in the datasheet when looking for LEDs to be used "plug-and-play" with Arduino?
Lastly, I want to use LEDs with a flat surface that I can easily press my finger against (and hopefully get a better pulse oximeter reading). This one seems to fit that description, but I don't know how it is packaged. If I buy a single one, does it come on like a tape or reel or something, or is it just the component on its own? Is it possible for me to use it with Arduino? If so, how? Again, what information should I pay attention to in the datasheets?
I haven't really done a project where I have to seek out these components. There seems to be a million choices and I want to make sure I get the right one for my project. Really appreciate any help!

For context, I've been following the logical load order for a new game where I crash upon entering the border of concord crossing. The game runs well in the vault and in areas around concord, no issues. I've tried troubleshooting by disabling certain mods like workshop, textures, sound, etc but haven't had any luck, even with minimal mods running. Does anyone see obvious conflicts in my load order or mods tha simply don't work? I'm fairly new to modding fallout 4 and would appreciate the help!
The load order (LLO):
Integrated commonwealth
Usi base game
True storms
Workshop framework
Player responds to pain
Mutant menagerie
True storms far harbor
Green in the commonwealth
Eco plus neo all dlcs merged
Buffed minuteman militia 2
Spectacle Island reborn
Mushroom player home
Personal shelter
Best view in the commonwealth
Atlantis settlement
Pineneedle rest
Solar street lamps
Uso automatron
Uso wasteland
Uso far harbor
Building budget extender
Craft and scr*p ammo
A better world cabin mod
Gunsmith overhaul
Colored workshop lights
Solar power
Blacksmiths crafting expansion
Holsters and sheaths lite
Gkx better destruction
Grenade expansion pack
Ugh mods manager cap
Realistic ragdoll force
Double perk level ups
More realistic cats
Weightless items patch
Dismemberment overhaul
Arbitration a gameplay overhaul
Arbitration automatron
Vaulting enemies and bosses
Burst intact blast fx
Fusion cores uwu
Quick step
Rad spiders
Settler and companion dialogue
Insults for all
Npc accuracy adjustment
Synths revamped
Realistic sound xb1
Resident evil audio overhaul
Resident evil ui sounds
Subnautica cyclops power armor
Visible galaxy 4k
Fireflies
Moon beautiful replacement
Vanilla moon 10x
Vivid fallout aio
Boston ivy red
Enhanced blood textures
Blood mist overhaul
Wet water enhancement textures
Vivid waters
Realistic lighting sirgreen
Realistic lighting True storms patch
Interiors enhanced 2.0
Dynamic light for glowing drinks
Enhanced flickering fire
New female animations 3.0
Cbbe curvy
Beanie hairstyles
Shaundis hairstyle
Azar ponytail hairstyles
Just another piper outfit
Loving piper
Sexy lingerie optional cube
Vibrant eyes
Chris Redfield jacket
Adas outfit
Dva outfit
Back cat cbbe
Docs dread girl
Yennefers outfit
40k sister of battle (armor mod)
Prisoner bindings
Skillzerk weapons pack
Place anywhere
Cheat terminal
Full dialogue overhaul
Amazing follower tweaks