Crossword heaven clues search

Title should basically explain it. I'm totally new to advertising on Google. I don't have the budget to get professional assistance.
Basically, I want my business page to show up as a sponsored listing in the map pack. I do NOT want any ads showing up in normal search results or as normal search ads.
I want people to be able to see my business page, and call straight from there if they want to. I have no clue how to do this and restrict it this way (or if it's even possible).
Any help would be greatly appreciated.

I do not like this game so far.
Shockingly, it is not Bigs Fishing. That took me 20 minutes, and granted it was a stupid game play design that somewhat makes sense, but should have been told to the player. (You need to press down when froggy starts biting to initiate the fishing. While with the other fish it's automatic) I understand the logic, you wouldn't want to start catching froggy and end the level before you catch the fish for A-rank. Still, should have been told. Once I knew that, and that pressing both camera buttons will reset the lure. The level was done in like 5 minutes.
The other bright-side is that you don't have to do a character strictly all at once, and for good reason. It is drag getting to the next level as anyone. I realized why i never beat this game even though it's been in my steam library for five years now. Frozen Peaks...or Ice cavern. The Ice level. The level itself is fine. No, the issue was getting to it.
The game gives you no clues on how to get the level unlocked. Oh yes, it tells you find the ice crystal key. The hint is so vague it's barely funny. "You saw it before".....thanks for the help Tikal. This is why you're not guardian anymore. Now granted I try to do games without a guide. As much as I can. After talking to every NPC in the area. Which, not helpful at all. "The mountain opened"...cool. So um....seen any ice stone? After a while of searching the Mystic Ruins I gave up and decided to open a guide.
Why the hell is this damn rock by the casino? In an alley that is pretty easy to miss. Before you go "Moron, why didn't you think to look outside Mystic Ruins before?" Well two things. One, the last key needed was in Mystic Ruins. Two, there is a rock in some water you can carry. The shape looks similar to the stone in the antique shop. So logically I think. Switcheroo. Thing is (Might've been a glitch). I go on train with rock. I do not keep rock. My entire time looking for this ice key was the assumption that you should have everything for the puzzle in that segment of the world. From what I was given in game-play before. I had no reason to think I would need to travel far.
Judging by levels. I think the games alright so far. I've only played as Sonic, Tails, Knuckles, and Big. I've enjoyed everyone so far. There hasn't been a particularity good level. At the same time the worst being Big's was more of a minor annoyance, and now that I know the tricks. It probably won't be much.
The way you progress in the story and unlocking new levels feels like padding. Some make sense, like how you need the light-speed dash to unlock the door to the casino. Cool, forces the player to get a powerup. The clue is pretty self explanatory. "There is a way into the sewers" doesn't tell you what is in there or even if you need to go. Just "Keep this in mind" you see giant sewer grate open. You go in, find the shoes. Continue the story.
With the other levels. it's not a puzzle, it's literally a fetch quest. Go here, then here, then back to here.
I am well aware once you beat a level, it is free to play from the menu. The fact that I have to go through this tedious key stone stuff with every character. Really dampens the mood.
I do want to point out. I like the idea of an open world level progression. It can help extend game-play, and it doesn't need to be filler. I've actually found the way Rush Adventure does it to be fun. Perhaps for Adventure instead of the keys being haphazardly placed. You unlock the door by doing a mini platform challenge. The ice level introduces the icicles that you climb around and jump from. For the entrance of the level keep the door locked and the leveswitch behind a row of these. Get the player used to this mechanic in a safe environment. This to me doesn't feel like padding.

Are you ready for an exhilarating adventure? Look no further than the Code 100 Monsters Game: Escape Room! This thrilling game combines problem-solving, teamwork, and adrenaline-pumping excitement. In this article, we will explore the fascinating world of escape rooms and delve into the immersive experience of the 100 Monsters Game.

Introduction to 100 Monsters Game: Escape Room

Escape rooms have gained immense popularity in recent years as a unique form of entertainment. Participants are locked inside a room and must work together to solve puzzles, decipher clues, and unravel the mysteries within a set time limit. The 100 Monsters Game takes this concept to a whole new level, offering an unforgettable experience for thrill-seekers and puzzle enthusiasts.

What is an Escape Room?

Escape rooms originated from video games and interactive theater experiences. They have now evolved into physical locations where participants can actively engage in solving puzzles and challenges. These rooms are designed with intricate details, immersive themes, and captivating storylines to create a truly immersive adventure.

The Concept of 100 Monsters Game

The 100 Monsters Game adds an exciting twist to the traditional escape room format. Instead of escaping from a single room, players embark on a journey through a series of interconnected rooms. Each room presents unique puzzles and obstacles that must be overcome to progress further. The overarching goal is to defeat 100 different monsters and ultimately escape the final room.

How to Play 100 Monsters Game

Gathering a Team

Assemble a team of friends, family, or colleagues who enjoy challenges and can work well together. The success of the game heavily relies on effective teamwork and communication.

Choosing a Suitable Location

Select a reputable escape room facility that offers the 100 Monsters Game. Consider the theme, difficulty level, and reviews to ensure an enjoyable experience.

Setting the Rules and Storyline

Before starting the game, the facilitator will provide an introduction, explain the rules, and set the stage with an intriguing storyline. Pay close attention as the narrative will guide your journey through the rooms.

Solving Puzzles and Challenges

Explore each room, searching for clues, hidden objects, and solving puzzles. Utilize your critical thinking, observation skills, and creativity to overcome obstacles and progress in the game.

Escaping the Room and Winning

Work together with your team to solve all the puzzles, defeat the monsters, and unlock the final room. Time is of the essence, so keep a watchful eye on the clock. The sense of accomplishment upon escaping is truly exhilarating!
📷

How should I prepare for the SAT over the summer? I've heard of KhanAcademy and practice tests (might even them out), but other than that I don't have much of a clue as to what I should do. Any recommendations?
Math portion vagueness: I was searching up subjects online and it conflicts as to whether PreCalculus, Trigonometry, the Quadratic Formula, and the like are on the Math portion of the SAT. I'm pretty sure PreCalculus isn't on it, but I'm unsure about the other two topics.

Light Shower is a pretty song, good instrumental and sounds (The water sounds are cool and satisfying), the lyrics, without thinking twice are the better lyrics of the album (Perhaps of Melanie in general), such a exciting song, if everyone take a time to hear and appreciate it, im sure everyone will love it, if you feel the lyrics, you weel feel in heaven, i can ensure it to you, that song, is like, the light i´ve been searching for forever.

First/Previous/Next
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Chapter 3 Part 1
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They always said that you never dreamed in cryogenic sleep. Which was true. It was \impossible to dream with your entire being frozen to negative temperatures, body flooded with preservation medications so ice crystals wouldn't form in the cell walls or a host of other complications that would otherwise kill a person. What they neglected to tell you was the dreams you had when thawing out and waking up.
The dreams a person experienced while undergoing this thawing process were always intense too. As vivid as reality as it was sometimes reported. No one knew why. Whatever it was; whether it was the combination of drugs, the brain trying to understand the trauma it had just experienced or even the soul catching up with the universe as some more spiritualist elements theorised, without fail the dreams were the most intense someone could experience. For her, this time, they were far more than just intense.
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Her eyes darted under her eyelids as the ghosts of energy bolts from aeons past darted in her memory. She heard the screams at the shaking of each dust filled rumble in her head. Her ears barely registered the dulled hum of ancient machinery fulfilling vital life sustaining protocols and the silent clicks of her standardised survival suit undergoing restart checks. Her helmet blocked out everything else or she'd have also heard the murmurs of voices beyond her pod. The cries of the dying desperately making one last stand echoed in her ears, drowning out the dull sounds. Those dying to protect her.
In her dream her arms reached out painfully slow for her father. She ached for them to go faster. This time she would make it. She'd be able to block the lid from fully sealing, preventing the cryogenic pod from starting. She was millimetres away. And yet the pod sealed effortlessly with a resounding hiss. At that her limbs decided to move normally again and hammered on the inside of the pod as the reinforced armour glass door's magnetic locks clunked to activation.
A dull green light shone into her face. Glacial coolness washed over her body as she slowly succumbed to the sensation of drowning. In one last desperate attempt she tried again to reach for her father. He wouldn't even look at her. A woman in midnight black armour cloaked in ragged robes embraced him from behind.
She screamed herself hoarse, trying to use sheer force of will to make the glass melt away. For her fingers and hands to phase through the transparent barrier and wipe away the tears staining his white bearded face. To just touch him one last time, even through the haptic feedback of her suit. To get him away from the stranger caressing him and wiping away the tears that belonged to her. She screamed a guttural scream as his face became sallow at the stranger's touch. It was killing him. Eyes sunk into sockets and flesh peeled back at the rapid mummification. "Alas" said the midnight black armoured woman in the ragged robes, holding her father's grinning skull in a gentle caress on the tips of her fingers. "Poor girl. Time to wake up. Wake up, and smell the ashes"
Fear gripped at her heart in a vice. There was nothing she could do but watch. The only way out was the emergency release button embedded at her side. But it was already too late, she didn't get to try as the feeling of drowsiness drowned her out, pulling her deep into the depths of slumber.
Except this time the feeling didn't become a stifling cold malaise. Instead, it was getting warmer. The sensation of drowning was slowly dissipating. As if she suddenly remembered she needed to breathe, her chest gave a mighty heave and began to rise and fall. For the first time in both more than a millenia and less than a handful of minutes, a large gasping breath passed through her lips. The inside of her visor fogged from the condensation.
She still heard the residual echoes of screams and cries in her ears like a phantom pain. But they were fading. Being replaced by a newer, stranger sound. The murmuring of a language she couldn't understand filtered through the glass and barely perceptible inside her helmet. Voices crowded around her pod. She hadn't yet opened her eyes. She didn't want to. She wished she was still in the dream.
Revival was always a confusing process and this was no different than the fifty odd times she’d undergone it before. But each time she had woken up her father had been there. He had to be there. Like how he’d be there this time. After all, it had only been a bad thaw dream.
The urge to open her eyes and look was almost overwhelming but she had to keep them shut. It was imperative until the medical diagnosis beeped an all clear signal. Otherwise she risked retinal damage before they were fully thawed. Until then she was alone in the dark with her thoughts. It was comforting to have thoughts however. What’s more; it was an even greater comfort knowing that because she was even having thoughts, she wouldn't spend an eternity of limbo in her frozen tomb, lost to the universe.
Finally, after what felt like an aeon, a dull chime resounded inside her helmet. Her eyelids slowly fluttered open. Microsensors within her helmet immediately noticed the movement and activated her suit's display systems. A heads up display appeared in front of her face. Light teal transparent letters flickered as she read information being displayed.
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CRYOGENIC REANIMATION COMPLETE.
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PLEASE EXIT THE UNIT AT YOUR DISCRETION.
​
This was strange. If her father was monitoring he would have already opened the pod right as her eyes opened. At least the words were reassuring. If there was anything wrong with either the pod or herself it would have been indicated in bright red flashing letters. A flick of her eyes and a blink dismissed the notification from her visor and she laid there in a stupor. She needed to get out and find everyone, find out what had happened.
It had all been so fast. There was barely enough time to even put on her survival suit and rush to the lowest levels.
The guards escorting her, Sergeant Lockley and a subordinate of his she had never got the name of, had practically dragged her in their rush, the entire bunker wasn’t even bothering with security procedures anymore. Everywhere else had gone quiet days ago, as far as they had been aware they were the last ones left.
No matter how much she'd pestered Sergeant Lockley he'd never given her any details on what had happened beyond that they needed to hurry and were about to be under attack. He didn't need to say by who, especially that late into the war. If it could even be called a war by then. It was more like a genocide with the fleets falling from the sky burning the heavens. City after City had collapsed, less and less reports coming in until they were isolated. And then it had been their turn. The entire human race reduced from carving out their own territory in the wider community to a scant few fighting tooth and nail for every scrap of dirt in a few decades.
That pit in her stomach as she'd been unceremoniously thrown in the pod while her father had ran all the checks himself when it normally took an entire team, was returning. Or had it never gone and she was only now allowed to feel it once again?
But she had been woken up. If she was awake then someone knew she was here, which meant they must have won. Beat the terrible odds stacked against them and come out the other side. If it had only been a few hours, or even a few days, either way it didn’t matter. She needed to get out and help the survivors, an extra pair of hands would be absolutely invaluable.
Looking at the lid, there were unexpected layers of thick dust caked against the outside of the glass, all except where her head had been. Maybe the combat had been so heavy the cryo chamber had nearly collapsed and whoever had woken up had brushed that portion aside to check on her. Yes, that must have been it. Holographic displays floated in front of her beyond the glass, their brightness blinding her eyes as well as making it almost impossible to make out who stood beyond their glare. She tried squinting past them, the shapes of the people outside were hard to make out, the fuzzy outlines of their bodies blurred together. However, their heads were still identifiable in the darkness as her eyes still adjusted. And from the looks of it there were at least four people in front of her. There was only one way to definitively find out though.
She motioned her fingers to indicate she was awake to the internal sensors inlaid into the walls of her glass coffin. She didn’t know why they hadn’t used the external controls to let her out, maybe they had been broken.
A dull clunk sounded indicating the magnetic locks had been released and the holograms flickered off as the glass slowly slid upwards with a motorised hum. The metal brim passed over her face, her visor compensated automatically for the low light levels, revealing, at last, her rescuers.
Four definitely humanoid figures crowded around her in the dark room. If she hadn’t been wearing her helmet the light coming from their torches being shined directly in her face would have blinded her. Instead, the glare was automatically filtered, revealing the figures standing in the room with her. They wore strange plated purple armour, bulky in the fashion all military equipment tended to be. A metallic point descended in the middle of their faceplates giving them an appearance similar to angry owls. Maybe it had been a special prototype her father had kept in storage somewhere, something given to the few elite soldiers remaining that helped to turn the tide. All the guesswork and unanswered questions directly after the panicked scramble to get into the pod was beginning to agitate her.
As a result, even through her reasoning, something nagged at the back of her mind. Trying to tell her something was off. She slowly looked over the four people again with her eyes, studying them closely without turning her head and giving away what she was doing. The one to the far right of her had their weapon hovering vaguely in her direction, as if unsure of what to do suddenly. Why would people that knew about her be so scared of her? It looked like an odd combination between an ornate staff and a rifle yet not quite either and looked to be encased in the same dark purple material as their armour. No matter how it looked, a weapon was a weapon and these people were dangerous. But they had also just woken her up. Surely if they had done that they wouldn’t be here to harm her. If they were, they could have easily done that while she slept.
The one directly in front of her, however, had no weapon out that she could see. Instead they had paused with a hand pressed into what looked like a computer device embedded on their forearm armour. The glow of the screen was reflected in the strangely shaped visor.
She tried weakly reaching out of her pod for the one closest to her in an attempt for aid.
"Where’s my dad? Did we win? How many days has it been?" She asked in a rapid succession, her weak voice amplified by the speakers within her helmet. She had to know.
The strangers looked at each other. They seemed more shocked at her speaking than helping her get up in her weakened state. She gave up on reaching out and instead used her arms to adjust herself on her near vertical frozen bed. She could feel the strength slowly return to her limbs as she moved. It would take a little while longer until she felt she could make an attempt to stagger out of her cryo pod but until then she was essentially helpless.
The strangers simply kept staring at her, as if they didn’t even know what she was. Which meant they weren’t from her bunker. They truly were strangers in the truest sense. But even so, they were survivors. And if they had survived then perhaps others had as well. For now however she needed information, her feelings either way could wait until she knew more.
"Who are you, how did you get here?" She asked again.
One of the beings, the one she had been reaching out to, spoke. It was a strange, melodic language that she didn't understand. Almost haughty in tone. That it hadn’t been automatically translated meant it must have not been in the system. An oversight by the programmers no doubt. Either that or they were speaking in a form of code. She sighed, that would make this far harder in an already difficult situation. Her powerful in built computer would be able to eventually figure out and create a translation if it really was a language but until then she needed them to speak more to hurry the process. Or even better, if she could activate one of the embedded computers on the wall, it would be able to extrapolate from just a scant few words. A common frame of reference to start with would be the best option but she struggled to think of what to use.
She remembered reading back when she was younger; even under the best of circumstances experts would deliberate for months, even years, on the meanings and nuances of individual words to ensure the most accurate translations possible. Computers helped immensely with the process but without the subtleties of organic beings they could create embarrassing inaccuracies.
"I'm sorry, I don't understand. But if you can understand me, please help me get to the computer over there I'll be able to understand you" she pleaded, pointing with her right hand at the dust covered screen mounted into the wall.
The second stranger on the left, standing behind the closest one she had been reaching for, said something in their still untranslated language and slowly walked over to the computer.
They must not be able to understand me either she thought.
The stranger pointed at the screen and said something. She had a feeling this time it was a question with the tonal inflection. That was good, if her hunch paid off it would help immensely.
Hoping what they had asked was something similar to "do you want me to turn this on" she nodded. The being said something that sounded harsher this time and the two she hadn't interacted with raised their weapons squarely on her. That message didn't need a translation. They obviously didn't trust her. The being cautiously reached out while looking at her, hesitating only for a moment, before wiping away a layer of dust and placing their hand on the touch sensitive glass. The machinery hummed to life as the screen registered the limb pressed against it and turned on.
Relieved by the fact that the fortress bunker's fusion core was still operational, she watched as the state of the art device cycled itself.
Yet another dull blue glow added to the room’s illumination as the main screen activated. Her own armour's holographic interface automatically synchronised to the system and displayed in front of her, adding to the blue light, its own illumination and brightening the room from a dull gloom to a faded glow.
The strangers still eyed her warily, fingers not on their triggers but hovering close enough to fire if she tried anything. This was more than not trusting her. They seemed scared of her.
Slowly and deliberately to show them she wasn't up to anything untoward, she lifted her right hand to tap on the translator option in front of her among the myriad of options. The haptic feedback in her glove gave her the sensation of resistance as she pressed and the computer gave a chime of recognition. Three concentric rings appeared on the screen, pulsating like a heartbeat. She spoke and the rings pulsed in time with her words.
"If you speak, that should be able to translate for us in real time" she said.
The one to her left lifted up her arm with the miniature screen and pointed it at the wall computer as the one who had touched the wall screen voiced more of their melodic speech.
"I think it's a translation programme, commander. I've managed to connect and uploaded our language to its database. They obviously designed it to be universal, it automatically reached out to my pad. It doesn’t seem like there aren't any defences or compatibility issues at the moment but this one will need to go through maintenance checks back on the ship" the being said, the software translating the language to her in real time. “But right now the risk is minima, I’m letting our systems access the programme now”
It was a wonder of coding, even managing to mimic vocal tones and cadences of the individual accurately. Although there was a slight disorienting disconnect in person when the sounds didn't quite match up to the mouth movements but that was something you got used to.
She smiled inside her helmet and relaxed, the tension that had been building easing out of her body. It was working and she'd be able to talk to them finally. And get some much needed answers.
"At least you’ll finally be able to understand me" she said.
The beings were confused for a second, each looking at each other like they'd been the ones to say it before it dawned on them that she had just spoken to them in their own language. They turned to stare at her from behind their owlish visors. It would have been almost predatory if their brief naive confusion hadn't been so amusing.
Immediately, the two with their weapons trained on her began to lean in, their fingers barely hovering over the triggers. The one who had placed their hand on the computer moved in front and motioned to them with a gesture. They lowered their weapons but did not appear to have calmed down.
"Who are you?" the person demanded.
The simple question confused her immensely. If they didn’t know who she was then why were they even down here in the first place? Even so, she needed their help to be able to get out of her pod. Let alone leaving the bunker and getting to the surface and finding any survivors. There was little choice, she needed to be careful. Secrecy protocols drilled into her by intelligence trainers until she’d had migraines were almost second nature at this point. Especially with what she should reveal and to who. But her name was something she shouldn't have to worry about.
"My name is.. Alice" she said with only the briefest hesitation.
Deciding that she could get further with these strangers by forcing a situation and getting out of the pod rather than just laying there, Alice leaned up and took a tentative shaky step forwards. She braced herself with her hands against the cushioned sides as she placed her weight on her dominant foot, stepping out warily. As soon as she lifted the weight off her back foot her leg buckled and she collapsed onto the ground in a heap.
The one who had been closest to her this entire time rushed forwards to help her.
"Are you alright?" they panicked as they helped Alice stand.
"I'm fine. Just a bit shaky after being asleep for so long." Alice replied calmly. "It's a side effect of the drugs for cryogenics. It'll take me a few more moments for it to get out of my system"
"Why would they keep you frozen for so long if it would have such deleterious effects?" asked her helper.
"What do you mean for so long? It’s just what’s used"
"Can you tell us why you were here? What happened? Why are there so many dead soldiers in this facility?" asked the demanding one.
Alice couldn’t let them see how such a casual line of questioning shook her. Taking all of her meagre strength to not simply collapse again from shock. She had to compose herself or she’d let something go by accident. At least she could be honest in this instance.
"I don't know any of that either. I was put in there before any of that happened or anything was explained to me" she said, indicating with a thumb over her shoulder. Her casual body language was key. Keep them off balanced, make sure they didn’t know how much she was internally panicking then.
he body language of the person asking her so many questions appeared incredulous at her hesitancy to be forthcoming.
Besides which, Alice had questions of her own.
“Not to be ungrateful, but who are you all?” she asked.
The one who had been demanding of her appeared to straighten up their back even further somehow.
“I am Commander Yurisa. The one kindly helping you stand at the moment is Second Rating Shand."
The latter term was unfamiliar to her but she perfectly understood the implications of there being a commander. There were enough survivors to field a well equipped and manned military. Tentative hope began to form as Alice looked at the person helping her. She gave them a nod of greeting.
"What about them?" asked Alice, indicating to the two who had been the tensest and most willing to point their weapons eagerly at her. They were still slightly hovering their weapons in her general direction.
"Conscripts Doane and Hedi. They do not need your attention, pay them no heed" said the commander curtly.
The lack of respect for the two subordinates caught Alice off guard. The two people, Doane and Hedi, may have been jumpy at her. But they didn't deserve to be dismissed so out of hand.
Even so, she could think about the ramifications of someone who would dismiss their underlings in such a manner later. Now her focus was changing as the strength returned to her limbs. She needed to find out about the rest of the bunker, what had happened after she had been frozen.
She untangled herself from Shand who had been helping her and stood straight on her own, albeit still slightly wobbling.
"Thank you for waking me up, all of you. But if it's alright, I'd like to know what happened. How many days has it been since I was locked in there?" she slightly chuckled nervously.
"Not until we know you won't pose a danger to my people or my ship" Yurisa replied sternly, a hand extended in front of her. They had evidently identified the weapon she carried.
This seemed like a hard line she shouldn’t push for the moment. She didn’t know these people and they in turn didn’t know about her it seemed. A rapport was more important for the moment, leaving her only one course of action if she didn’t want to be shot by the jumpy soldiers. Slowly reaching towards her thigh for the standard issue civilian sidearm clamped there. Making sure to deliberately grab it by the casing rather than the grip and placed the rugged weapon in the proffered commander’s hand.
Yurisa looked at her for a seeming eternity before hooking her gun on an armoured belt.
Stand down" she commanded.
Doane and Hedi once again relaxed, except this time they slung their weapons onto their backs in fluid motions.
Content they had relaxed and weren’t going to shoot her after all, Alice went to the computer she had indicated to Yurisa to turn on. She tapped the screen to change menus from the translation software to a full cultural database download. The computer chimed and began downloading the entire memory bank into her onboard storage. All the information amassed before and after her sleep. All public research and development. All scientific theories and art and literature. The entire sum of all human knowledge and culture. She'd carry it with her. The weight would be immense. The guilt of leaving it behind would be worse.
"I promise I'm not a threat commander" she said dejectedly. The energy rushed out of her as fast as it had returned, like a collapsing wave on a beach. She accessed the imaging network. Before there had been hundreds of cameras available, ranging from CCTV in the cities to satellites in orbit. Now it seemed none remained, not even static from severed connections. They were simply blank screens with error codes. She couldn't even see what had become of her home. She tried accessing previous recordings, hoping at least the final moments of the people who had protected her had been saved. The files listed themselves in front of her in a cascade of videos all dated and timestamped. She added them to the download, vowing to sort through them at the earliest opportunity.
"I just want to leave. I want to get out and see what’s survived. Who’s survived. I want to see the Earth and help rebuild, maybe even find anyone I know if I’m lucky."
She stared at the screen, willing the cameras to life. To show her the bustling streets and busy sky lanes. To see the grand ships hanging in low orbit above the urban centres, ever watchful sentinels of the heavens. But the screen defied her will and remained stubbornly black. Her rapt attention shielded her from the awkward glances the people seemed to be sharing behind her.
Shand nervously cleared her throat. “About that..”
She began but the commander furiously cut her off with a swift hand signal.
Frustration clawed at her as Alice repeatedly swiped horizontally through the vast list of camera nodes, the error codes stubbornly refusing to yield. A single flash of colour blurred past her frantic swiping. She swiftly backpedalled, searching for the frame that had zoomed by. With a tap, the swiping stopped. She had found it. A single camera she had overlooked. Tapping on the frame to enlarge the feed, she stood back. The image before her was severely cracked and pitted, barely feeding a picture let alone video. Static suffused almost the entire screen. But past it she could just about make it out. The ruins of the city. No fires flared or smoke dissipated into the sky as she expected. Or even rebuilt to its former splendour like she was hoping with these strangers being in her bunker. Instead, her eyes tried to process the rusted sharp jags of bare metal left to rot into nothing. The illusion her brain had imagined while she had been so desperate moments ago shattered at the reality in front of her.
It was gone. All of it. Just how long have I been frozen?
Grief and fear threatened to rear up in her before an entirely different sensation replaced them.
They destroyed it all. All of it. No mercy After all we had given them. Their very reason for being. If it hadn’t been for the human race they wouldn’t have even existed. HOW DARE THEY!
“HOW DARE THEY!” she screamed, punching the screen with unbridled rage.
Webs of cracks spread out from under her fist as she took deep breaths. She had to control herself. She didn’t want to turn and look at the people no doubt staring at her after her outburst. No clacks of weapons had sounded so at least they weren’t panicking even if they would be on edge yet again.
A warbling chime broke the spell around her. The download was complete. Everything that had been was now with her. The importance of it was undeniable before but now it was possibly the only record left in the galaxy. She had to guarantee its safety, as well as her own. The fallback option when she was woken up without the expected personnel. She typed in the final command she had been told to do when she had been briefed so long ago.
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THROUGH THE LOOKING GLASS
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Alice snorted to herself.
Of course it would be that, they always thought they had a sense of humour. What idiots.
And with those last letters, the fortress that had survived fathomless millenia protecting its charge shut down with barely a dulcet low whine. The ruined screen flickered as the fission reactors went off line. The dull blue light slowly dimmed, once again returning the room to darkness. The last thread of life that had lasted so long finally free. And the last man made structure died, its duty carried for so long fulfilled.
Alice turned from the console a final time. The only sources of light came from the torches of the people standing in the room with her. She reached up to the side of her own helmet and touched a small pad. An embedded LED just above her faceplate illuminated itself, adding a narrow cutting beam to the wide ones of these apparent soldiers.
Commander Yurisa appeared to become distracted for a moment, her head tilting slightly to one side as if someone were talking directly into her ear. Her reply to whoever was on the other end of the obvious communication was heard by Alice.
"No, nothing to worry about. Sit tight, we're on our way back" she said to whoever it was.
Judging by that context, Alice guessed they were heading back up to the surface. They had come down and discovered her and were now leaving with their prize in tow.
No matter, as long as she could get off the planet she didn’t care where they took her now. She didn’t think she could handle the ghosts if they left her here.
Commander Yurisa indicated towards Alice, gaining her attention.
“We will be taking you back to our ship in orbit. Standard procedure means you will be confined to quarantine until medical scans show you are clear of any pathogens or other such contaminants that may prove a risk to us. These scans are non invasive and barring any complications will last no longer than a single rotation” she said in a statement that sounded rehearsed more than sincere.
Alice’s brain scratched like a record at what she had just been so casually told. A ship in orbit. She could barely comprehend all the implications it raised, not least of all the biggest one of how. She had to find out, to see if they had found an intact ship or maybe were even from a separate colony that had been missed. Her mind raced as she simply nodded in return, keeping the facade.
“I understand. I wouldn’t want to cause any harm to any of you. Just please, can we leave.” she begged.
“Doane, take the lead back to the surface. Second Rating, follow him and map our way out” ordered the stern commander.
Doane performed an odd slamming across his torso and nodded before heading towards the doorway. Alice gave one last glimpse at the pod that had kept her safe. She didn’t know if she would miss it in time but for now she felt hollow. Everything was proceeding so quickly and sooner or later she would have confront being left behind for such a long time. At least soon she would be getting answers. Why they had never found or woken her before now. She didn’t even know when now was, that was something she’d have to look up in the records when she had time.
Her lamenting was interrupted by the form of the commander filling her vision. Arm extended, indicating it was her turn to leave. Passing through the once pristine doorway, she immediately noticed the state of sheer decay. Instead of an elevator, rubble and rust met her eyes. She looked up, trying to spot where these people had climbed down. The opposite doorway wasn’t far above her, barely two levels. Doane and Shand were already more than halfway up. More beams of light were cutting through the gloom back at her, revealing the individual that Yurisa must have been talking to over the radio earlier.
Crossing the debris strewn floor, Alice reached for the corroded ladder, grabbing the rung closest to her. With mighty heaves she brought herself up, step by step, her limited strength making the simple task a strained ordeal.Finally she reached the opening she had seen from the bottom. Reaching out with her left food to dismount she hopped the small gap. Her weakened muscles still building their stamina back up from her lengthy internment failed her. Her foot slipped off the rung as she overexerted her leg, her left foot buckling from beneath her. Arms waving in front of her, desperately scrabbling for purchase on anything before she would plunge back into the darkness. Gravity inevitably overcame her struggle and pulled her back into the black shaft. A hand shot out, yanking on her forearm and dragging her back from the brink of her overbalance and firmly out of the doorway.
Alice collapsed hard onto her hands and knees, panting at the loss of strength and exhaustion wracking her body. Desperately trying to catch her breath, she looked up at who had pulled her in. Shand stood over her, head cocked while watching her. Alice fought against a giggle from erupting, the helmet the being was wearing made it look like a curious bird caught red handed in a spotlight.
Were they concerned? she wondered to herself.
Shand extended their purple gloved hand to her as she gasped from exhaustion. Alice grabbed the proffered hand. With a mighty heave, and a grunt from Shand, she stood unsteadily on her feet. Two of the soldiers rushed to her aid as she swayed on the spot, their rough armoured forms propping her up between them. Which two had helped her Alice didn’t know but nevertheless she voiced her thanks to them.
One of the group took the lead and began to head towards where they must have entered from. That must have been Doane, and Shand was the one following. She was easier to tell apart due to the holographic map being displayed on her wrist.
As they walked she looked at the aged remains of the carnage around her. Bodies and weapons strewn about the wreckage, no one left to bury them but entombed all the same in this bunker.
My father could be in here Alice realised as she slowly walked past an armoured skeleton wearing the stripes of a Sergeant draped over the remains of a concrete barrier.
They had still clung onto their rifle in a literal death grip, defending her as she had been frozen and slept. Guilt flushed through her at the sight of so many who had given themselves. Especially the Sergeant.
"Commander Yurisa. Could we stop for a moment please" asked Alice
The commander walked up to her, seeing her staring at the remains around her in the chamber.
"I think we can spare a minute or two" said Yurisa.
Alice gently removed the support of the two people who had been helping her and knelt in front of the Sergeant. An unsettling grin stared back at her through the smashed face plate of the helmet that once fitted. The unsettling truth suffused her being as she knelt. Days, or even months wouldn’t leave such a bare skeleton. This was years, decades at least. Alice looked around her at the other bodies lying around her, as if looking for any scrap of evidence that what she was realising couldn’t be true. All were beached with age, their tooth filled smiles laughing at the cosmic joke being played on her by the universe.
Looking away from the grim audience, she reached past the neck, briefly rummaging for the chain necklace she hoped would still be there. Gently lifting it past the skull, she dangled the rugged jewellery in front of her visor and attempted to read the dog tag hanging in the air. The thin slice of treated metal was caked in rust but even then it wasn't so far gone as to be illegible. Wiping the plate with her thumb, she read the name she had suspected it would say since seeing the rank of the remains.
Lockley.
The man who had rushed her to her pod so she could be where she was now. Alice bowed her head at the man she once knew. The man's armour may have been corroded with age but tradition was still tradition.
She reached out and disconnected his bulky left shoulder armour, the magnetic clamps still keeping it secure in place after so long. Placing it on top of her own civilian suit's lightly armoured shoulder with a light click, the piece looked completely out of place compared to the rest of her suit. A large dent in the centre showed where something had struck the late Sergeant as he had fought, perhaps an energy bolt or shrapnel from the fight. She rotated her shoulder, ensuring the piece wasn't interfering with movement or cumbersome. Satisfied it wasn’t, she then placed the dog tags back around the man's neck. The last thing she needed to take was his identity. The final thing he could keep.
Her deed done, she stood back up, looking around at the people she didn't realise had been staring at her.
"It was a tradition that started during the war" she said sheepishly. "You take the pauldron of whoever saved you if they died, that way you can carry them with you out of respect"
"That's a nice tradition" one of the soldiers she didn't know the name of yet said from behind her. One of the pair who had helped her. One who had been there when she had woken up. Which meant this must have been Hedi.
Alice chuckled slightly to herself as a sudden absurdity came to her. "Yeah but unfortunately I don't have enough shoulders right now for all the rest" she indicated with a sweep of her arms.
The group gave a few quiet sounds of amusement of their own, looking down at the ground or up at the ceiling rather than meeting her faceplate.
With a heavy sigh Alice willed herself to move. If she stayed any longer she would begin to lament on the lives lost for her and if she began that she may never leave.
Catching up with the awaiting Shand and Mannad, the group were led to a narrow maintenance utility shaft embedded into the wall. The cramped spaces twisted and turned as they took a winding path directed by shand.
The soldier Alice had not yet learned the name of was revealed to her when Iftan annoyed Mannad with an attempt at humour commenting on how it appeared to take longer to return the way they had come and if Shand had gotten them lost. Apparently Mannad had acute claustrophobia, however it was swiftly eased with a thump on the back of Iftan's helmet.
Alice smiled to herself at the thought of how soldiers were soldiers no matter what time or part of the universe you were from.

I’m in the eastern US and my 1 month Gamepass auto-redeem still hasn’t gone through. Are we really going to do this 2 months in a row?! I searched the group for posts about the issue for this month and only found one but I wanted to highlight the issue further as it’s apparently the second time it’s happened.
Also I had no clue what to use as a flair so I just went with Xbox. I apologize if this is incorrect.

Time had barely passed, the memory of her presence was still so fresh as to be palpable, when I entered the Deathgrounds of Love. For many, unrequited love diminishes before it can mount further and poison the heart. It fades as life goes on, and infatuations are forgotten; paramours become little more than half-remembered follies. But my love for her grew even as we drifted apart, even as her disdain for me blossomed into a multi-thorned and blackly petaled flower. Almost ironically it grew, until it finally manifested as a material, tangible thing: a heart, which came to beat with malignant autonomy upon a veiny stalk, in the midst of that graven place where unchecked love evilly flourishes.
Unguarded—at its gates, at least—were the grounds when I arrived, doubly delirious with grief and wonderment. I had not known of the place beforehand. It was only with the impossible manifestation of that heart, born of my anguish, that I became suddenly and providentially aware of the the graveyard and its unwholesome, reality-defying contents.
Despite what had occurred—and what apparently always occurs among the worm-riddled, blood-sodden soil—the place was not a garden; life found itself thriving there, yes, but not any life born of God's design. And death was chief above all, no matter how many vital organs beat ceaselessly from stalk to arterial stalk.
I entered ignorant of what I may find, beyond that which I had been drawn to upon waking suddenly earlier that morning. The outer grounds were rank with an earthy and coppery smell, like the dank, pulpy earth of a fresh battlefield. I got the impression that lives had been spent upon the grey soil, hundreds if not thousands of them; and yet there was only the dismal land, overhanged by a subtle atmosphere of mist, and environed by old trees. Beyond this mist I could just barely discern the inner plots; and I knew that therein I'd find my second heart.
Further in I progressed, until I entered that sepulchral garden, with its rows upon rows of vegetative hearts, sprouted with unsettling plumpness from the soil like overly ripe fruits. The audibility of their beating was maddening; it was as if thousands of people had been stripped of their flesh, leaving only their still-animate hearts. Even worse, they beat not in unison, but in horrible discordance - no two hearts held the same rhythm.
And yet somehow through the tachycardiac chaos I sensed my own - that is to say the heart to which I'd been tirelessly drawn.
Like an automaton I trudged on, my shoes sinking into the blood-laden soil; my sight blurred by the newly emergent haze of crimson. My mind befogged by the increasingly humid air.
With an automatic gentleness I pushed through the rows of unfamiliar hearts until I came upon my own. There it was, visually indistinct among the others, and yet I knew without a shred of doubt that it was mine. It pulsed with a steady rhythm, bleeding from its valves as if there were arteries to carry away the blood; a vascular system through which it could circulate. Despite the morbidity of it, I found it beautiful, as if it was something I'd searched for my entire life; some long-sought treasure of my nightly dreams.
So marveled was I, that I didn't notice the approach of the stranger. It wasn't until he had placed a hand on my shoulder that I became aware of him. I recoiled, but was kept from jumping back by the firmness of his gloved grip. He was a tall old man, dressed in a long grey overcoat, at the waist of which sat some kind of multi-pocketed workman's belt. There were several pouches affixed to the belt, and all bore black splotches of some unidentifiable substance. He wore what I assumed had once been black boots, but were now stained a deep crimson - undoubtedly from having spent innumerable hours trudging through the blood-rich soil.
His face was old and severe, with a blackly stained beard that trailed thinly down to his chest. His coal-black eyes met my own, and for a brief moment I felt as if was being pulled from my own body and examined in some outré, incorporeal pocket of space. A moment later, the phantasmal feeling passed, and the man released his iron grip on me.
"You've come for the heart, that it?"
I nodded, not yet able to form words; the shock of his appearance still fresh.
He grunted, and his voice reminded me of a dying animal I'd once seen on the road: harsh and guttural, defiant against pity and death. In his other hand he held a pair of garden shears, and with these he gestured towards the heart.
"Ye can have it, it's yers. But I'll have to take the one ye got in ye. An exchange. Don't fret about the pain. Ye won't feel it."
This proposition reigned in my mind from the state of fantastical acceptance it had gone to. Suddenly I became acutely, frighteningly aware that I was standing in a cemetery full of human hearts, all of which had somehow grown from the ground; and that this caretaker had actually offered to cut out mine in exchange for the one beating before me. It was ludicrous, macabre beyond measure.... and yet it was real.
"Ye should know: that in taking this here heart, you'll be happy, happier than you've ever been. But you'll forget the person you're longing for. They'll be wiped from yer memory. That's the price. Or the relief, depending."
The thought of a future without the nightly anguish of having lost her—made doubly terrible by the fact that it had been my fault—seemed almost too good to be true. But the idea of losing her completely, of having her smile erased from my memory, her voice lost to the mental void....it was inconceivable. To have loved and lost, and all that.
As much as it pained me to, I denied the man's bizarre offer.
His eyes narrowed, focusing on my chest - my heart. He pointed his empty hand at me and said, "Are ye sure? If left unchecked, it could kill ye. The grief. The sorrow. I've seen it, time and time again."
Had I not come to my senses about the utter weirdness of the situation, I probably wouldn't have noticed the almost imperceptible changes in his demeanor and posture. There was a yearning in his stance, a predatory hunger. Given the circumstances, it felt vampiric.
I backed away from him, again reiterating that I'd like to keep my heart, no matter what trouble it could cause me down the line. The stranger sighed, exhaling a visible cloud of what appeared to be black smoke or vapor.
"Too bad. I'm damn hungry."
That was the final kick my brain needed to fully recognize and piece together all the little clues laid around me. The soil, whilst predominantly a deep red, also held clumps of black matter in places - almost always near the beating hearts. This was plainly not mulch or any kind of gardening substance; the clumps were fleshy, some slick with what was obviously blackened blood. And that led me to two other points of observation: the man's belt, with its stained pouches, and his darkly stained beard - as if he'd been eating something that leaked black juices.
"Ah. You've put it together, have ye? No matter."
His eyes must've followed mine as I surveyed the scene before me. Still, the truth, the horrid reality, hadn't yet come to me.
"I eat the hearts given to me. Turned black they've been, in their grief. Fat, poisoned things. Only the most terminal are drawn to this place. Ye have a sick heart, and are better off without it. Serves ye no purpose to keep it. Why not let me eat it? Keeps me full, and keeps me own inklings towards love at bay. Stamps em down, so I never feel a thing. Never have to love, and lose. Never again..."
He seemed to mentally close upon himself for a moment, so I took the opportunity to begin my retreat. With much less care than before I pushed through the rows of hearts, heedless of how much damage I dealt to the organs and their repulsive stalks. Quickly I returned to that barren terrain before the plots, where the soil was a much more tolerable grey, and where the atmosphere was free of that delirious scarlet haze and its stifling humidity.
I stopped for a moment to catch my breath. Just as I did so, a shriek echoed into the night, and a voice full of mad demonic fury tore through the trees, sending the nesting birds skyward.
"Give me your fucking heart!"
I should've continued onward, the gate was only a few yards away; but the Satanic magnitude of the voice was irresistibly attention-grabbing. I felt compelled to see what kind of odious creature could've projected such anger, even though I'd seen the man just moments before.
The ground began to shake, and the withered trees trembled, loosing half-dead leaves onto the ground. And that awful scarlet haze came rolling over the boughs, deeply tinting the atmosphere as if it were a living thing. A sentient cloud of evil.
And from amidst the malignant haze came a thing that might have once been a man, but had undergone a transformation so repugnantly profound that any remaining elements of humanity appeared as mockeries of the form. It towered above the feeble trees, even using their tops as points of stability as it lurched toward me. It's body was vaguely anthropomorphic, distantly human, but outwardly fish-like; the flesh of some selachian nightmare draped over the skeleton of a man.
A face, contorted abhorrently to fit an angular, newly mutated skull, bared a broad maw at me. The teeth shone like an assassin's daggers in the night, sending chills throughout my body. Even as it cleared the tree line and revealed itself fully to me, I could not move: I was so completely transfixed by the depravity of its body, by the unreality of its existence.
"Ye could've given me your heart, and all would've been well. But now...now you've gone and made me take off me coat. I don't like to take off me coat. I don't like having to work for me food. I'm all out of it, and I won't let the thoughts of love come back to me. I won't allow it. Now, c'mere and let me pull you apart."
Despite his hideous transformation, his voice was largely unchanged. Just deeper, more guttural, his ire made plain. The lack of any overt monstrous intonation only made the only whole ordeal more terrifying.
Wrenching control away from the panicked part of my mind, I forced my body to turn and move towards the gate. The thing bounded after me like some frenzied animal, shaking the ground with its every step. I pumped my legs to their absolute limits, reaching the gate just as the humidity of the haze tickled the back of my neck.
I threw it open, leapt through, and slammed it just as that colossal nightmare reached it. I wouldn't have thought the old gate any real match for its massive frame, but the rusted iron held against the horror's assault. The haze was also somehow kept at bay, not a single particle of the mysterious vapor breaching the bars despite how thickly it pressed upon it.
Before it could pull some trick or transform into something capable by bypassing the providentially sturdy gate, I turned away and ran back to my car. And while the creature didn't follow me, its hateful voice did.
"The heart! Bring back your heart!"
I drove away without looking back.

Time had barely passed, the memory of her presence was still so fresh as to be palpable, when I entered the Deathgrounds of Love. For many, unrequited love diminishes before it can mount further and poison the heart. It fades as life goes on, and infatuations are forgotten; paramours become little more than half-remembered follies. But my love for her grew even as we drifted apart, even as her disdain for me blossomed into a multi-thorned and blackly petaled flower. Almost ironically it grew, until it finally manifested as a material, tangible thing: a heart, which came to beat with malignant autonomy upon a veiny stalk, in the midst of that graven place where unchecked love evilly flourishes.
Unguarded—at its gates, at least—were the grounds when I arrived, doubly delirious with grief and wonderment. I had not known of the place beforehand. It was only with the impossible manifestation of that heart, born of my anguish, that I became suddenly and providentially aware of the the graveyard and its unwholesome, reality-defying contents.
Despite what had occurred—and what apparently always occurs among the worm-riddled, blood-sodden soil—the place was not a garden; life found itself thriving there, yes, but not any life born of God's design. And death was chief above all, no matter how many vital organs beat ceaselessly from stalk to arterial stalk.
I entered ignorant of what I may find, beyond that which I had been drawn to upon waking suddenly earlier that morning. The outer grounds were rank with an earthy and coppery smell, like the dank, pulpy earth of a fresh battlefield. I got the impression that lives had been spent upon the grey soil, hundreds if not thousands of them; and yet there was only the dismal land, overhanged by a subtle atmosphere of mist, and environed by old trees. Beyond this mist I could just barely discern the inner plots; and I knew that therein I'd find my second heart.
Further in I progressed, until I entered that sepulchral garden, with its rows upon rows of vegetative hearts, sprouted with unsettling plumpness from the soil like overly ripe fruits. The audibility of their beating was maddening; it was as if thousands of people had been stripped of their flesh, leaving only their still-animate hearts. Even worse, they beat not in unison, but in horrible discordance - no two hearts held the same rhythm.
And yet somehow through the tachycardiac chaos I sensed my own - that is to say the heart to which I'd been tirelessly drawn.
Like an automaton I trudged on, my shoes sinking into the blood-laden soil; my sight blurred by the newly emergent haze of crimson. My mind befogged by the increasingly humid air.
With an automatic gentleness I pushed through the rows of unfamiliar hearts until I came upon my own. There it was, visually indistinct among the others, and yet I knew without a shred of doubt that it was mine. It pulsed with a steady rhythm, bleeding from its valves as if there were arteries to carry away the blood; a vascular system through which it could circulate. Despite the morbidity of it, I found it beautiful, as if it was something I'd searched for my entire life; some long-sought treasure of my nightly dreams.
So marveled was I, that I didn't notice the approach of the stranger. It wasn't until he had placed a hand on my shoulder that I became aware of him. I recoiled, but was kept from jumping back by the firmness of his gloved grip. He was a tall old man, dressed in a long grey overcoat, at the waist of which sat some kind of multi-pocketed workman's belt. There were several pouches affixed to the belt, and all bore black splotches of some unidentifiable substance. He wore what I assumed had once been black boots, but were now stained a deep crimson - undoubtedly from having spent innumerable hours trudging through the blood-rich soil.
His face was old and severe, with a blackly stained beard that trailed thinly down to his chest. His coal-black eyes met my own, and for a brief moment I felt as if was being pulled from my own body and examined in some outré, incorporeal pocket of space. A moment later, the phantasmal feeling passed, and the man released his iron grip on me.
"You've come for the heart, that it?"
I nodded, not yet able to form words; the shock of his appearance still fresh.
He grunted, and his voice reminded me of a dying animal I'd once seen on the road: harsh and guttural, defiant against pity and death. In his other hand he held a pair of garden shears, and with these he gestured towards the heart.
"Ye can have it, it's yers. But I'll have to take the one ye got in ye. An exchange. Don't fret about the pain. Ye won't feel it."
This proposition reigned in my mind from the state of fantastical acceptance it had gone to. Suddenly I became acutely, frighteningly aware that I was standing in a cemetery full of human hearts, all of which had somehow grown from the ground; and that this caretaker had actually offered to cut out mine in exchange for the one beating before me. It was ludicrous, macabre beyond measure.... and yet it was real.
"Ye should know: that in taking this here heart, you'll be happy, happier than you've ever been. But you'll forget the person you're longing for. They'll be wiped from yer memory. That's the price. Or the relief, depending."
The thought of a future without the nightly anguish of having lost her—made doubly terrible by the fact that it had been my fault—seemed almost too good to be true. But the idea of losing her completely, of having her smile erased from my memory, her voice lost to the mental void....it was inconceivable. To have loved and lost, and all that.
As much as it pained me to, I denied the man's bizarre offer.
His eyes narrowed, focusing on my chest - my heart. He pointed his empty hand at me and said, "Are ye sure? If left unchecked, it could kill ye. The grief. The sorrow. I've seen it, time and time again."
Had I not come to my senses about the utter weirdness of the situation, I probably wouldn't have noticed the almost imperceptible changes in his demeanor and posture. There was a yearning in his stance, a predatory hunger. Given the circumstances, it felt vampiric.
I backed away from him, again reiterating that I'd like to keep my heart, no matter what trouble it could cause me down the line. The stranger sighed, exhaling a visible cloud of what appeared to be black smoke or vapor.
"Too bad. I'm damn hungry."
That was the final kick my brain needed to fully recognize and piece together all the little clues laid around me. The soil, whilst predominantly a deep red, also held clumps of black matter in places - almost always near the beating hearts. This was plainly not mulch or any kind of gardening substance; the clumps were fleshy, some slick with what was obviously blackened blood. And that led me to two other points of observation: the man's belt, with its stained pouches, and his darkly stained beard - as if he'd been eating something that leaked black juices.
"Ah. You've put it together, have ye? No matter."
His eyes must've followed mine as I surveyed the scene before me. Still, the truth, the horrid reality, hadn't yet come to me.
"I eat the hearts given to me. Turned black they've been, in their grief. Fat, poisoned things. Only the most terminal are drawn to this place. Ye have a sick heart, and are better off without it. Serves ye no purpose to keep it. Why not let me eat it? Keeps me full, and keeps me own inklings towards love at bay. Stamps em down, so I never feel a thing. Never have to love, and lose. Never again..."
He seemed to mentally close upon himself for a moment, so I took the opportunity to begin my retreat. With much less care than before I pushed through the rows of hearts, heedless of how much damage I dealt to the organs and their repulsive stalks. Quickly I returned to that barren terrain before the plots, where the soil was a much more tolerable grey, and where the atmosphere was free of that delirious scarlet haze and its stifling humidity.
I stopped for a moment to catch my breath. Just as I did so, a shriek echoed into the night, and a voice full of mad demonic fury tore through the trees, sending the nesting birds skyward.
"Give me your goddamn heart!"
I should've continued onward, the gate was only a few yards away; but the Satanic magnitude of the voice was irresistibly attention-grabbing. I felt compelled to see what kind of odious creature could've projected such anger, even though I'd seen the man just moments before.
The ground began to shake, and the withered trees trembled, loosing half-dead leaves onto the ground. And that awful scarlet haze came rolling over the boughs, deeply tinting the atmosphere as if it were a living thing. A sentient cloud of evil.
And from amidst the malignant haze came a thing that might have once been a man, but had undergone a transformation so repugnantly profound that any remaining elements of humanity appeared as mockeries of the form. It towered above the feeble trees, even using their tops as points of stability as it lurched toward me. It's body was vaguely anthropomorphic, distantly human, but outwardly fish-like; the flesh of some selachian nightmare draped over the skeleton of a man.
A face, contorted abhorrently to fit an angular, newly mutated skull, bared a broad maw at me. The teeth shone like an assassin's daggers in the night, sending chills throughout my body. Even as it cleared the tree line and revealed itself fully to me, I could not move: I was so completely transfixed by the depravity of its body, by the unreality of its existence.
"Ye could've given me your heart, and all would've been well. But now...now you've gone and made me take off me coat. I don't like to take off me coat. I don't like having to work for me food. I'm all out of it, and I won't let the thoughts of love come back to me. I won't allow it. Now, c'mere and let me pull you apart."
Despite his hideous transformation, his voice was largely unchanged. Just deeper, more guttural, his ire made plain. The lack of any overt monstrous intonation only made the only whole ordeal more terrifying.
Wrenching control away from the panicked part of my mind, I forced my body to turn and move towards the gate. The thing bounded after me like some frenzied animal, shaking the ground with its every step. I pumped my legs to their absolute limits, reaching the gate just as the humidity of the haze tickled the back of my neck.
I threw it open, leapt through, and slammed it just as that colossal nightmare reached it. I wouldn't have thought the old gate any real match for its massive frame, but the rusted iron held against the horror's assault. The haze was also somehow kept at bay, not a single particle of the mysterious vapor breaching the bars despite how thickly it pressed upon it.
Before it could pull some trick or transform into something capable by bypassing the providentially sturdy gate, I turned away and ran back to my car. And while the creature didn't follow me, its hateful voice did.
"The heart! Bring back your heart!"
I drove away without looking back.

Time had barely passed, the memory of her presence was still so fresh as to be palpable, when I entered the Deathgrounds of Love. For many, unrequited love diminishes before it can mount further and poison the heart. It fades as life goes on, and infatuations are forgotten; paramours become little more than half-remembered follies. But my love for her grew even as we drifted apart, even as her disdain for me blossomed into a multi-thorned and blackly petaled flower. Almost ironically it grew, until it finally manifested as a material, tangible thing: a heart, which came to beat with malignant autonomy upon a veiny stalk, in the midst of that graven place where unchecked love evilly flourishes.
Unguarded—at its gates, at least—were the grounds when I arrived, doubly delirious with grief and wonderment. I had not known of the place beforehand. It was only with the impossible manifestation of that heart, born of my anguish, that I became suddenly and providentially aware of the the graveyard and its unwholesome, reality-defying contents.
Despite what had occurred—and what apparently always occurs among the worm-riddled, blood-sodden soil—the place was not a garden; life found itself thriving there, yes, but not any life born of God's design. And death was chief above all, no matter how many vital organs beat ceaselessly from stalk to arterial stalk.
I entered ignorant of what I may find, beyond that which I had been drawn to upon waking suddenly earlier that morning. The outer grounds were rank with an earthy and coppery smell, like the dank, pulpy earth of a fresh battlefield. I got the impression that lives had been spent upon the grey soil, hundreds if not thousands of them; and yet there was only the dismal land, overhanged by a subtle atmosphere of mist, and environed by old trees. Beyond this mist I could just barely discern the inner plots; and I knew that therein I'd find my second heart.
Further in I progressed, until I entered that sepulchral garden, with its rows upon rows of vegetative hearts, sprouted with unsettling plumpness from the soil like overly ripe fruits. The audibility of their beating was maddening; it was as if thousands of people had been stripped of their flesh, leaving only their still-animate hearts. Even worse, they beat not in unison, but in horrible discordance - no two hearts held the same rhythm.
And yet somehow through the tachycardiac chaos I sensed my own - that is to say the heart to which I'd been tirelessly drawn.
Like an automaton I trudged on, my shoes sinking into the blood-laden soil; my sight blurred by the newly emergent haze of crimson. My mind befogged by the increasingly humid air.
With an automatic gentleness I pushed through the rows of unfamiliar hearts until I came upon my own. There it was, visually indistinct among the others, and yet I knew without a shred of doubt that it was mine. It pulsed with a steady rhythm, bleeding from its valves as if there were arteries to carry away the blood; a vascular system through which it could circulate. Despite the morbidity of it, I found it beautiful, as if it was something I'd searched for my entire life; some long-sought treasure of my nightly dreams.
So marveled was I, that I didn't notice the approach of the stranger. It wasn't until he had placed a hand on my shoulder that I became aware of him. I recoiled, but was kept from jumping back by the firmness of his gloved grip. He was a tall old man, dressed in a long grey overcoat, at the waist of which sat some kind of multi-pocketed workman's belt. There were several pouches affixed to the belt, and all bore black splotches of some unidentifiable substance. He wore what I assumed had once been black boots, but were now stained a deep crimson - undoubtedly from having spent innumerable hours trudging through the blood-rich soil.
His face was old and severe, with a blackly stained beard that trailed thinly down to his chest. His coal-black eyes met my own, and for a brief moment I felt as if was being pulled from my own body and examined in some outré, incorporeal pocket of space. A moment later, the phantasmal feeling passed, and the man released his iron grip on me.
"You've come for the heart, that it?"
I nodded, not yet able to form words; the shock of his appearance still fresh.
He grunted, and his voice reminded me of a dying animal I'd once seen on the road: harsh and guttural, defiant against pity and death. In his other hand he held a pair of garden shears, and with these he gestured towards the heart.
"Ye can have it, it's yers. But I'll have to take the one ye got in ye. An exchange. Don't fret about the pain. Ye won't feel it."
This proposition reigned in my mind from the state of fantastical acceptance it had gone to. Suddenly I became acutely, frighteningly aware that I was standing in a cemetery full of human hearts, all of which had somehow grown from the ground; and that this caretaker had actually offered to cut out mine in exchange for the one beating before me. It was ludicrous, macabre beyond measure.... and yet it was real.
"Ye should know: that in taking this here heart, you'll be happy, happier than you've ever been. But you'll forget the person you're longing for. They'll be wiped from yer memory. That's the price. Or the relief, depending."
The thought of a future without the nightly anguish of having lost her—made doubly terrible by the fact that it had been my fault—seemed almost too good to be true. But the idea of losing her completely, of having her smile erased from my memory, her voice lost to the mental void....it was inconceivable. To have loved and lost, and all that.
As much as it pained me to, I denied the man's bizarre offer.
His eyes narrowed, focusing on my chest - my heart. He pointed his empty hand at me and said, "Are ye sure? If left unchecked, it could kill ye. The grief. The sorrow. I've seen it, time and time again."
Had I not come to my senses about the utter weirdness of the situation, I probably wouldn't have noticed the almost imperceptible changes in his demeanor and posture. There was a yearning in his stance, a predatory hunger. Given the circumstances, it felt vampiric.
I backed away from him, again reiterating that I'd like to keep my heart, no matter what trouble it could cause me down the line. The stranger sighed, exhaling a visible cloud of what appeared to be black smoke or vapor.
"Too bad. I'm damn hungry."
That was the final kick my brain needed to fully recognize and piece together all the little clues laid around me. The soil, whilst predominantly a deep red, also held clumps of black matter in places - almost always near the beating hearts. This was plainly not mulch or any kind of gardening substance; the clumps were fleshy, some slick with what was obviously blackened blood. And that led me to two other points of observation: the man's belt, with its stained pouches, and his darkly stained beard - as if he'd been eating something that leaked black juices.
"Ah. You've put it together, have ye? No matter."
His eyes must've followed mine as I surveyed the scene before me. Still, the truth, the horrid reality, hadn't yet come to me.
"I eat the hearts given to me. Turned black they've been, in their grief. Fat, poisoned things. Only the most terminal are drawn to this place. Ye have a sick heart, and are better off without it. Serves ye no purpose to keep it. Why not let me eat it? Keeps me full, and keeps me own inklings towards love at bay. Stamps em down, so I never feel a thing. Never have to love, and lose. Never again..."
He seemed to mentally close upon himself for a moment, so I took the opportunity to begin my retreat. With much less care than before I pushed through the rows of hearts, heedless of how much damage I dealt to the organs and their repulsive stalks. Quickly I returned to that barren terrain before the plots, where the soil was a much more tolerable grey, and where the atmosphere was free of that delirious scarlet haze and its stifling humidity.
I stopped for a moment to catch my breath. Just as I did so, a shriek echoed into the night, and a voice full of mad demonic fury tore through the trees, sending the nesting birds skyward.
"Give me your fucking heart!"
I should've continued onward, the gate was only a few yards away; but the Satanic magnitude of the voice was irresistibly attention-grabbing. I felt compelled to see what kind of odious creature could've projected such anger, even though I'd seen the man just moments before.
The ground began to shake, and the withered trees trembled, loosing half-dead leaves onto the ground. And that awful scarlet haze came rolling over the boughs, deeply tinting the atmosphere as if it were a living thing. A sentient cloud of evil.
And from amidst the malignant haze came a thing that might have once been a man, but had undergone a transformation so repugnantly profound that any remaining elements of humanity appeared as mockeries of the form. It towered above the feeble trees, even using their tops as points of stability as it lurched toward me. It's body was vaguely anthropomorphic, distantly human, but outwardly fish-like; the flesh of some selachian nightmare draped over the skeleton of a man.
A face, contorted abhorrently to fit an angular, newly mutated skull, bared a broad maw at me. The teeth shone like an assassin's daggers in the night, sending chills throughout my body. Even as it cleared the tree line and revealed itself fully to me, I could not move: I was so completely transfixed by the depravity of its body, by the unreality of its existence.
"Ye could've given me your heart, and all would've been well. But now...now you've gone and made me take off me coat. I don't like to take off me coat. I don't like having to work for me food. I'm all out of it, and I won't let the thoughts of love come back to me. I won't allow it. Now, c'mere and let me pull you apart."
Despite his hideous transformation, his voice was largely unchanged. Just deeper, more guttural, his ire made plain. The lack of any overt monstrous intonation only made the only whole ordeal more terrifying.
Wrenching control away from the panicked part of my mind, I forced my body to turn and move towards the gate. The thing bounded after me like some frenzied animal, shaking the ground with its every step. I pumped my legs to their absolute limits, reaching the gate just as the humidity of the haze tickled the back of my neck.
I threw it open, leapt through, and slammed it just as that colossal nightmare reached it. I wouldn't have thought the old gate any real match for its massive frame, but the rusted iron held against the horror's assault. The haze was also somehow kept at bay, not a single particle of the mysterious vapor breaching the bars despite how thickly it pressed upon it.
Before it could pull some trick or transform into something capable by bypassing the providentially sturdy gate, I turned away and ran back to my car. And while the creature didn't follow me, its hateful voice did.
"The heart! Bring back your heart!"
I drove away without looking back.

Searching for this fic:
It’s about where kara goes into a rut but lena couldn’t help her since she’s too powerful, so instead she hires other omegas to help her.
Lena is hurt even though they’re in a relationship and are soulmates.
Kara is afraid of hurting lena even more
Please comment if you have any clues. Thanks
If you guys have any clues please comment. Thanks

Having trouble getting my head around a murder mystery and wondering if any helpful redditors would lend a hand.
so i have a party working for a king in the middle of a war. there is a neighboring kingdom that has tried to stay out of the war. the kings brother in the pacifist nation has been murdered, he was outspoken against helping the party’s kingdom so the rumor is he may have been murdered to remove his voice from the discourse, the party’s king thinks it was a plot it frame his kingdom.
Truth is that he has been murdered by a vampire who is upset with the prince for not voluntarily becoming his thrall, i need vampire specific clues, to lead the party that way, other than some classic vampire repellents in the princes belongings.
As of now i have the body being partially distorted by the cause of death witch is a Scarab of Death witch burrows in to the body then bursts out of the chest.
One thing they can notice is obviously less blood than should be expected and on a good check wounds to the neck witch’s sustained some damage
in my mind the vamp gifts the brooch to the prince, becomes a bat and hides in the princes robes until he is alone at a party then bites and drains much of his blood then activates the scarab and partially destroys the body
this is my first murder mystery ark and i am shooting for 2 areas to search for clues and 3 clues or leads per area.
i have some ideas but wanted to hear some ideas from other folks
Thanks!!

So the contextual clues that I have for the anime are:
There is a male and female characters that are not young, they are definitely adults and the anime is in the style of black magic M-66 style.
What i recall is that it was on MoviePlex or Stars in 2002-2003 and the female character may have had blonde hair with a black dress. The female character was afraid of the rain for some reason or other while the male character was not. I think that the character said something along the lines of in the future the rain was soo acidic that it would burn your skin, so she may have been from the future or from a different planet or something like that.
I have been searching for this for quite some time and will place a $10 bounty on the source of my fever dream.

Heya! I love variety cryptic puzzles and since it's June I was wondering if people knew of variety cryptic with any LGBTQ / Pride themes? Some examples of what I'm talking about to get things started!
I mostly do American cryptics but I'm happy to try other countries' cryptics too!

"Positioning" by Gregg Katz (Queer Qrosswords 2 — suggested $10+ donation to an LGBTQ+ charity for the packet)

In this variety cryptic, Across answers can be tops, bottoms, or versatile. Eight top answers give up a letter to one of eight bottom answers, each becoming a new word before being entered in the grid. (Two pairs of tops and bottoms are nonmonogamous, and exchange the same letter.) Six versatile answers trade one letter with another versatile answer to form new words prior to entry. The unclued entry at 20-Across will reveal your role in all this. Across enumerations are withheld. Clued answers may include proper nouns, and modified entries include one proper noun. Down clues are entered normally.

"LGBTQIA+" by Francis Heaney (AVCX Cryptic — $1.00):

Happy Pride! The clues and entries in this puzzle are nonconformists in many ways:
1) Across clues are not numbered; you must determine their grid locations. (They are ordered alphabetically by answer.) Each Across clue also has an extraneous letter that must be removed before solving (not necessarily leaving a new word, and possibly requiring words to be respaced); the removed letter will correspond to the color of the flag stripe in which its answer is located (R, O, Y, G, B, or V). Down clues are numbered normally.
2) All but 12 answers, Across and Down, must have a letter added (either L, G, B, T, Q, I, or A) before being entered into the grid to make a new word or phrase; we’ll refer to these answers as LGBTQIA+. The remaining 12 answers are entered normally with no modifications. Enumerations are withheld. Tags apply to answers but not necessarily to grid entries.
3) The crossing letters of six Across and six Down LGBTQIA+ entries do not match; replace those letters with 2- or 3-letter strings to make new words in both directions. (Since the mismatched letters are unchecked, as an aid in confirmation, they can be anagrammed to LEAGUE ABODES.)
4) Every clue contains an extra definition (either a word or phrase) that must be removed before solving; in the case of LGBTQIA+ answers, the extra word or phrase defines the modified grid entry. In the 12 clues with unmodified answers, the extra word or phrase defines one of the new words made after following instruction 3; you must determine which.
5) When the grid is complete, read the added 2- and 3-letter strings from left to right to reveal something important to both crosswords and LGBTQIA+ activism.

"Coming Out" by Brad LeBeau (The Griddle — Free)

In this variety cryptic, the answers are entered as usual. However, each clue has a queer letter that needs to come out (i.e. be removed) before the clue can be solved. These letters, read in clue order, reveal a message that’s important for Pride Month (or any month!).

"Tag Yourself!" by Amanda Rafkin, David Gold, and Finn Vigeland (avid puzzler — Free)

In this alignment chart of a cryptic, Down entries (for which enumerations are withheld) must be modified, always forming new words or names before grid entry. Gay entries (columns 1-3) “walk fast,” and need to have a letter advanced one place in the alphabet (ex. BOMER > BONER). Bi entries (columns 4-6) “tuck their shirts in,” moving their first letter somewhere else in the word (ex. ACME > CAME). Lesbian entries (columns 7-9) “call a U-Haul,” gaining or losing a U somewhere in the word (ex. LUTE <-> LTE).

Thanks for any suggestions for puzzles to look into!

Out there - Patreon (for all those curious or wanting to support :))
At the Beginning
Adventure Arc - Arc 2
Wilderness Arc - Arc 3
Academy Arc - Arc 4
Previously on Leveling up the World…
 
The vortex guardian slowly descended from the sky. A lot closer than Dallion imagined it to be, the being was still several dozen miles in the darkness, only visible as a partial orb of light; partial because some of it had been severed off. The voidlings he had faced had probably been much stronger than the chainling blobs, capable of breaking off chunks of light from an otherwise perfect sphere.
Thank the Moons, Dallion thought. Harp had been right that a one-to-one fight was a bit beyond him. The battle damage, though, changed everything. There had been a time when Dallion had faced the minion of the Purple Moon and the Star at full strength. Like now, the two peaks of power had focused on each other, gradually tearing themselves down to the point that he could effectively face them and even win. At the time Dallion had seen his actions as clever, now that he had gained a bit of force, he saw them as cowardly and also as a warning not to underestimate lesser opponents.
“Have you ever fought one of those?” Dallion summoned his armadil shield.
The dryad guardian gave a reply, but Dallion found himself incapable of hearing it. With the vortex guardian no more than five hundred feet away, his actual form had become visible within the glow, and it was nothing like he had expected.
​
VORTEX GUARDIAN – ACACIA NILATON
Species: HUMAN
Class: MAGIC
Health: 17%
Traits:
- BODY 40
- MIND 40
- PERCEPTION 40
- REACTION 40
- MAGIC 40
Skills:
- ATTACK
- GUARD
- ATHLETICS
- ACROBATICS
- FORGING
- SCHOLAR
- SPELLCRAFT
Weakness: HEAD
​
Human? It took some effort for Dallion not to take a step back.
During his many travels through the realms, he had seen all sorts of guardians: insects, creatures, artificial constructs, members of the three banished races—feral or not. Not once had he heard of humans being banished. The worst that could happen to the free races was to get placed in a prison item for a number of decades, get delevelled, or have their awakening powers sealed. Banishment was used to describe someone chased out of a province of the empire itself. And yet, there was no denying the proof in front of him.
The vortex guardian was of a woman in her twenties. Made entirely of purple light, she was wearing what had been light armor of the same material. Her left shoulder was missing, along with the entire arm. Even so, there was no indication that she was in pain. For that matter, there was no indication she felt anything whatsoever. Just as Dallion wasn’t able to sense normal emotions from void creatures, the only thing he was getting from her was a constant sound of static.
In preparation for the fight, Dallion split into sixty instances. He was half expecting the guardian to do the same. She didn’t.
Glowing eyes with barely a hint of humanity glanced at Dallion, after which the guardian darted towards him, sword in hand.
Dallion parried while the rest of his instances spread out, each casting a different spell. When it came to magic damage to one instance could well deal damage to all the rest. The blade of magic slammed into his harpsisword and stopped. For a fraction of a second, surprise became visible on the guardian’s face, as if she expected for the attack to pass through.
Spells rained at her from all sides, passing through as if she weren’t there.
Instances can’t harm her, Harp said. You must stick to reality only.
Similar to what Nil had done, Dallion thought. Actually, the similarities between the last awakening trial and the current vortex were too many to be mere coincidence. Vortex towers, void presence, even the echo’s ability to avoid attacks seemed more like a warning of things to come. The only problem was that like most warnings sent by the Moons, they were only visible in hindsight.
Magic symbols appeared all over the guardian’s body, like glowing tattoos. There were too many for Dallion to make out the possible spells they would create, which was why he went on the offensive with a spark line attack.
A third of the symbols faded out as the rest cast a series of aether barriers in front of the guardian. Ever multiplying, they shattered as quickly as they were created, though in the process managed to delay the strike for just long enough for the guardian to block it.
The mage principle held true—even with the impressive trait values, the guardian remained a spellcaster, not a fighter. Her initial attack was supposed to be a certain hit—magic wasn’t restrained by the physical. The guardian probably expected her blade to go through the harpsisword.
“Ruby,” Dallion said as he rushed forward with another line attack.
Wind slashes combined with the thread of destruction.
​
MINOR STRIKE
Damage dealt is increased by 10%
​
A hit. It wasn’t much, but it confirmed Dallion’s suspicions. Lacking one arm, and a lot of health, the guardian could only rely on secondary methods for casting spells, making her vulnerable to fast-paced disruptive attacks.
“There’s no need to fight,” Dallion said, adding slowness into his words. He knew that a guardian of her caliber would never fall for a music attack, but as things stood, every little bit was to his advantage. “We’re both human, after all.”
The music strands snapped long before they reached their intended target. However, his physical attacks kept her on the defensive. No longer seen as invulnerable, the guardian didn’t appear as threatening as before. Now she was closer to a low-level noble: powerful, yet with just enough weaknesses for one to take advantage.
MINOR STRIKE
Damage dealt is increased by 10%
Another of Ruby’s wing attacks managed to sneak through, reducing the guardian’s health to fifteen percent.
“The voidlings must have done a number on you.” Dallion unsummoned his armadil shield. He no longer needed that arm to defend himself; a lot more could be done by casting spells.
The harpsisword slashed half an inch from the woman’s torso. If he got a bit better, the fight could end right away.
“Acacia is a nice name,” Dallion pressed on. Aether projectiles shot out from his left hand, following an elliptical path to their target. Similar to Ruby’s attacks, most were negated by the guardian’s defenses, but a few managed to pass through, stacking up three red rectangles. “I didn’t know humans could be banished.”
You must have done something pretty terrible to deserve such punishment, he thought. Was it related to the Moons? Is it a curse?
“My task is an honor,” the guardian said, her voice high and echoy very much like the combination of sounds that Harp used when talking to Dallion. “And I’ll keep doing it after this fight is over.”
With seven percent health left, that sounded a bit optimistic. There was no way she could win at this point, no way for her even to manage a draw. Dallion’s greatest fear was that she’d perform an explosive spell in an attempt to take him with her. Yet, the guardian persistently continued casting protective barriers and on occasion try to counterattack in the moments between Dallion’s line attacks.
One could tell that she was trying to analyze his combat pattern. Her own, though, was somewhat off. The style was generally outdated, although it was difficult to tell for certain since she had only one arm to work with.
Why aren’t you fighting closer to the floor? Dallion wondered.
The deadly spikes emerging from it would have provided her with a definite advantage. The magic of the vortex wasn’t capable of harming her. For that matter, why had she fought the voidlings in the air?
​
MINOR STRIKE
Damage dealt is increased by 10%
​
One percent life. A single strike was all that kept Dallion from achieving victory. It was tempting to let up a bit and give himself some slack. In the past, Dallion would have probably done so, allowing himself a brief conversation with the guardian. Now he knew better. The all-out attack was the only reason he hadn’t received any damage in the last fight. If he gave his opponent a chance, he might end up on the other foot, granting her the means to eject him from the vortex, or even worse.
“Sorry,” Dallion said, following up with a multi point attack.
Aether barriers shattered in the hundreds. No longer to keep up with the attacks, the stacks thinned, then disappeared altogether.
​
CRITICAL STRIKE
Damage dealt is increased by 200%
VORTEX GUARDIAN has been defeated.
​
The purple rectangle emerged, marking the end of the fight. All magic spells cast by the guardian abruptly vanished. She, on the other hand, remained there.
Without hesitation, Dallion quickly places his left hand on her forehead. This was it, the moment every mage waited for. Dallion had found the hard way that, as difficult as dispersing a vortex was, it never came with a guarantee of absorption. Unlike awakening, mages were owed nothing—they had to take it.
Magic threads came out of Dallion’s fingers, then pulled hers in. A surge of power went through his body, filling him up with energy.
​
You have assimilated the GUARDIAN’s magic, increasing your magic trait to twenty-seven.
​
As Dallion’s magic increased, that of the vortex dwindled. The threads composing the floor melted away, transforming it into a wireframe construct, then even they were gone, leaving Dallion in the Nerosal ruins corridor, a foot above the ground. All the gear he had started with was on him once more, as was Ruby. However, there was something different about the shardfly. There was a faint glow coming from its red wings. Also, it had slightly grown in size.
“You leveled up,” Dallion said in surprise. “Good job.”
From within his realm, Nox meowed, annoyed. Having to constantly deal with magic had prevented the crackling from leveling up. The only consolation was that Dallion had used his newfound abilities to grant it and the other inhabitants of his realm with new skills.
Joy, pride, and a sense of achieavement emanated from Ruby. The creature flew a circle round Dallion, then went back to its spot on his shoulder. A few moments later, its wings reduced in size.
“Illusion?” Dallion asked.
Partial, Ruby replied.
The shardfly was definitely following in Gleam’s footsteps.
With the vortex gone—and once Dallion had cast a new light spell—the inside of the room was visible. Similar to everything else in the ruins, it was mostly empty. The difference was that the few things that remained were items of a lot more modern nature and definitely something that most people wouldn’t normally use.
Parchment, quills, small shadowtech devices… Dallion had no idea what they were supposed to do. Despite a vaguely familiar Earth design, they remained alien, as if someone was copying foreign technology and guessing how it functioned.
“Clever. You made these during the festivals,” Dallion said. All those times that Adzorg pretended to hide away from the festivals, he was actually here, working on his grand device. As a former mage, he might even have had an agreement with the lord mayor to “explore” the ruins in search of dangerous devices, vortexes, or Moons know what else. Even so, he was a bit careless leaving this behind. Someone with a bit of knowledge would have easily seen the magic symbols on the paper.
Anyone here? Dallion asked.
The items seemed to have been placed there before he’d arrived in the city. There was no way that Adzorg would fear them talking to anyone. Unfortunately, there were no responses. The old mage had covered his tracks yet again. The only clue that he left was his work.
One by one, Dallion gathered all pieces of paper, writing materials, and strange devices. There weren’t many of them. With no engineers in the world, it was going to be difficult to make anything out, especially since they were considered failures to be left behind.
What are you thinking? The armadil shield asked.
“A few things.” Dallion examined one of the devices closer. No larger than a lighter, it was made of multiple pieces of metal—alloys containing sun gold—though no gears or obvious power source. And, while the world was unfamiliar with concepts regarding electronics or advanced engineering, someone in the Shimmering Circle might.
Thanks for reading! If you enjoyed this story, consider joining my patreon or check out my other stories on redditserials:
The Scuu Paradox (a Space Opera Sci Fi)
The Cassandrian Theory (a Space Opera Sci Fi)
The Impeccable Adventure of the Reluctant Dungeon (Dungeon Core Adventure Comedy)
Uncharted Waters (An Urban Fantasy Detective Noir)