So then Time to see how our two lovebirds got on. Don't worry to those that didn't read 90.1 reminiscing will be kept as light as I felt I could get away with.
Once again the editing duo of UnvavoringGray and Twoflower68 need a shout out for their amazing work, in helping me get this out to you guys. Those two fucking rock.
Aside from that, I don't have much to say, so let's get on with the story
ko-fi For having more pretty pictures commissioned.
Sapphire
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Chapter 91: You Will Tell Us
There was a knock on the door, a voice Tom didn't recognize yelling from outside, “Breakfast is on, if you want any.”
“Coming,” Tom replied, stretching out lazily. His head didn’t feel too bad though it was definitely throbbing slightly, he felt a little sick too and he was quite thirsty. So nothing out of the ordinary. Noting the absence of snoring from his right, he poked at Jacky a bit, to try and see if she was awake.
“Tom?” the long drawn out reply came. “I feel like shit.” Short on ways to articulate ‘breakfast time,’ he just patted her on the side as he got up, hoping she would follow along eventually.
He only got on the essentials, leaving the armor off for the time being. He had to admit, he too felt rather stiff and sore. As he was doing up his boots he blinked a few times, his eyes messing with him and refusing to focus. All in all though, he was doing fairly okay. It was pretty clear the same couldn’t be said for Jacky, as she still laid sprawled across the mattress, buck nude and unmoving.
“I don’t want to go, everything hurts,” she protested, reaching for the blanket lazily, not even managing to grab it.
“Oh come on you lazy sod, can't be that bad,” Tom went as he grabbed her by the shoulder, rolling her over. She just flopped onto her back like a ragdoll whining loudly. “Please don’t dude, that hurt.” He picked up her arm, also not receiving any resistance, dangling it around a bit. He let go, watching it bounce off the mattress as she let out a distressed groan.
“You are a fucking mess arent you?” he questioned, giving her a light smack on the butt, as he started gathering up her clothes and laying them in the bed for her.
He picked up her crown, putting it on without much success. It was sort of on there but it was more laying on top of his head. Looking to Jacky she was at least looking at him now as he struck a pose for her, doing his best to look like a girly idiot. It did land him a chuckle from her as she slowly began moving. She winced as she sat up and began stretching everything that could be stretched right down to her toes.
Getting up, she scooped up his helmet and placed it on her head, even if the horns did kinda ruin the experiment. The tip of the helmet fell down in front of her eyes and made her look like an absolute idiot. “Look I’m the crazed killing machine. YAHHH, bang, bang, bang,” she went, doing the finger guns, pretending to be firing around the room, though she was still rather lacking in the enthusiasm department.
Tom really wanted to reply, shoulders sagging a bit at the thought that he couldn't. Jacky took off the helmet and continued doing stretches even if it was clear from all the wincing and slow movements that she was not enjoying it. “How can a night with you leave me in worse shape than the most insane battle I have ever taken part in?” She went with some annoyance in her tone.
Tom scratched the back of his neck, trying to look innocent, as he went about inspecting a very interesting wooden figurine on the window.
“Screw it, that was so worth it, it’s ridiculous. Now small steps Jacky,” she continued as she started to walk over to the washbasin. She looked truly ridiculous as she inched forwards bow legged. Tom eventually grew sorry for her, going over to lend a shoulder. “And of course you're completely fine. I don't like not being the awesome one you know that… and that’s mine,” she playfully protested, taking the crown and putting it on. “You are just a copper, remember?”
‘If only you knew how awesome you are, miss silvered huntress,’ Tom thought to himself with a smile as he helped her freshen up a bit and get into her clothes. After she had gotten ready and he got everything he didn't need sorted and stowed away they set off, making it just shy of the stairs.
“Oh this is gonna suck,” Jacky let out, stopping. Tom pondered the situation for a second before picking her up in a bride carry, going down the stairs with her as she slung her arms around his neck.
“...Just for today I will allow this,” she went, sounding more than a little sarcastic as they made it to the hall. Most of the people were well into their breakfast, though nearly all eyes turned to the two of them as they entered.
“Morning,” Tom let out, staring back at the mixed collection of faces. Some looked curious, others uncomfortable, one guy gave them a thumbs up and a smirking nod, and Jarix looked like he wanted to be somewhere else while also having several questions. ‘Oookay,’ Tom thought, screaming internally. He had guessed someone would have heard them. This was a lot worse than even he had thought; this was catastrophic.
Looking around, Zarko had her face buried in her food, sitting at the table closest to Jarix. Unkai looked away when Tom caught him staring. Going over, he deposited Jacky next to Zarko before getting some food for the two of them.
He came back with a plate of mostly smoked and salted meats with bread and some fairly nice smelling cheese. Jacky dug in with a voracious appetite, Tom joining her and trying to ignore the people who were staring.
Silence reigned at the table until Zarko elected to open the conversation, for once.
“So, feeling well-rested?” she questioned. Her expression perfectly plain as she continued eating.
“Yup, feeling much better. Weren't you supposed to be on the wing by now?” Tom replied, trying to seem nonchalant about it.
“Yes, but the lady overruled me, apparently her precious little huntresses need a good meal before such a flight,” she replied, seeming none too pleased as she scowled at the kind old lady before turning to Tom. "She still can’t hear us, right?”
“Nope. Deaf as can be sadly.”
“Excellent, let me give you a bit of advice: whatever you did to her, you might want to consider telling her to quiet down a bit… somehow,” Zarko continued, getting eye contact with him then looking Jackalope over, clearly thinking. “I wanna ask a favor.”
‘I do not like where this is going,’ Tom concluded, rather desperately looking around for a way out of this. Zarko clearly figured out where his mind had gone at that, her expression turning to one of disgust.
“No, you idiot. I want the most dangerous person I know to owe me a favor… In exchange for not letting a certain someone know what happened here, and embellishing some details.”
‘Godfucking dammit,’ Tom cursed to himself, looking at the now grinning second lieutenant. He did not like the prospect of what would happen if Zarko just started telling stories back at the keep. “What kind of favor are we talking?”
“Oh, I don’t know, I’ll think of something… eventually” Zarko replied, seeming very pleased with herself. ‘Oh god damn you,’ Tom cursed.
“Fine, don’t keep the deafness a secret though that’s just too obvious.”
“I won’t don’t you worry, but I gotta ask. What the hell did you do to her? More out of morbid curiosity than anything else.”
“And why would I tell you that?” Tom replied in an annoyed tone.
“Well I might be persuaded to keep those two from blabbing too loudly as well,” she replied, pointing at the two huntresses Tom suspected were gonna be joining her.
Looking around, it was clear the battle of this not being a topic was lost in advance. ‘Screw it, might as well have fun with it, Shiva is gonna try and kill me anyway,’ Tom mused to himself, looking to Zarko.
“Well, there is not much too it, I just rode her for all she was worth” Unkai nearly choked on his food at that.
“I think they heard us last night,” Jackalope tried to whisper as she leaned over to Tom, of course doing so loud enough that it wasn’t hard to hear for anyone at the table. Tom cracked a smile at that, trying to not laugh, nodding slowly while looking down. “Dammit, I even tried screaming into the pillow and everything,” she continued, looking around at the people staring. Tom wasn’t sure if she believed she was talking to herself or what. He gave her a little poke to the side, earning him a wince in response, “Please don’t, that still hurts.” Tom patted her on the back a bit to say sorry.
“I will try to keep her more quiet next time,” Tom promised as he looked to Unkai, who was sitting across from them. The healer damn near had his head below the edge of the table, looking extremely uncomfortable.
“For the record, I think whatever you two did was counter to my medical advice,” he peeped out after Tom stared at him for a bit.
“I was fairly gentle with her, I didn’t want to open up the wound on her back… You might need to take a look at that actually… She got a little... carried away.” If the dragonettes could blush, he was damn sure Unkai would be competing with Jarix for most blue individual right now, his ears completely flat against his neck.
“Sure thing.”
“That was gentle?!” Jarix finally broke out, looking at Tom with disbelief. “Do you know how you two sounded? I could hear everything godsdammit!” The dragon shuddering as he said that. Well, the few faces who hadn’t been giving them weird looks before sure as fuck were now.
Tom had to give it to the dragon, he hadn’t thought of that. “Sorry not sorry, I can try to make you some earplugs if you want, we can’t be the first ones you have heard,” he tried with a shrug. Jarix opened his mouth to speak thinking better of it.
“I would like that actually,” the dragon replied eventually, his expression rather ashamed as he looked away.
Looking back to Unkai, Tom asked the healer. “In your experience how bad it is when you people get hot… like you know, too hot?”
“I mean hot enough will kill you eventually, you faint long before that though.”
“Just checking. Getting that hot a few times in a row, is that bad?”
Unkai gulped, as he stared at Tom. “I don’t think I would recommend it,” he finally went, sounding ready to bolt.
“Noted,” Tom replied, putting an arm around Jacky’s waist.
“How did you manage that? I mean you were going at it for a while, but you held breaks, we could hear that much. How did she get so hot so fast?” Zarko questioned.
'Were you standing outside the door or something?’ Tom cursed, debating whether the comeback to that was worth the possible fall out with Jacky. ‘Yeah sure, this ship has sailed,’ he concluded.
“Oh, those were when she fainted, or you know just locked up completely. Then she needed a bit of a cool down.” That finally got a reaction from the normally stoic Zarko, as she turned to look at him wide-eyed. Jarix’s jaw hung open looking like he just witnessed his parents having sex, and Unkai froze in place as if something just broken inside him.
“What did you just say?” Jackalope questioned looking to Tom, clearly picking up on all that. She did not sound entirely pleased either.
‘Right, that’s fair,’ Tom concluded to himself, getting out the notebook, pondering how to spin this. He couldn’t outright lie, and she definitely knew what the subject was currently.
“That you are the most awesome thing both in the sky and the bedroom,” Tom wrote down, feeling proud of himself, doing his best Fengi impersonation as he showed her, trying to look cute.
Jackalope looked at the notebook slightly skeptical for a second or two, eyes flicking between it and him. “I’m on to you,” she finally replied, going back to her food, Tom letting out a slight sigh of relief.
“More like on top of you,” he retorted, chuckling at his own joke.
“Oh god, Tom please,” Jarix protested, sounding more than done with this conversation.
“Come on, you’re eighty and a combat vet now. Deal with it,” Jarix just stared at him, looking distinctly unimpressed as Tom just leaned on Jacky with a shit-eating grin on his face and went about his food. Ironically enough though he was struggling a bit with his appetite, having stacked up a sizable plate. Jacky eventually nicked a few things from his plate, much to her delight.
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The questioning of both the man and woman they had captured had proved fruitless. They hadn’t even gotten a name out of them. Eventually they had just given up, leaving the city guard to it.
Sapphire and Dakota had been given bunks to sleep in at the Stockade on account of Sergeant Lanok having grown a lot more confident since Victoria departed. He refused to let them leave. Even if they weren't really locked up, it was still pretty damn annoying, not to mention belittling. It was a fine enough place to get a few hours of sleep though.
Maiko had woken them up a while later, Sapphire blinking the sleep from her eyes. This was not enough sleep for a night. Judging by the sun outside the window it was very early morning. “That was quick,” Sapphire noted, rubbing her eyes.
“Well we have a job to do, and possibly people trying to outrun us. So let’s go, chop-chop,” Maiko replied, yanking the blanket of Sapphire. “Seriously?” Sapphire protested, looking up at the bemused corporal who just moved to Dakota and repeated the maneuver.
They got up, donning their armor, and collecting their things.
“Do you think she found some village crazy woman?” Sapphire questioned, glancing at the equally sleepy-looking Dakota.
“No idea, we better not be late though. Let’s get down there,” Dakota answered, getting to her feet. Sapphire noticed a slight smile on Maiko’s face as they made their way to the interrogation room. Both of the kidnappers had been brought in there, the city guard sergeant joining them shortly after they arrived. He was suddenly looking very nervous not saying a word as they waited.
It took a few minutes before a tall slim woman, clad in the Hashaw family uniform, stepped into the room. Victoria followed behind her flanked by a captain of the city guard.
“Meet Inquisitor Joelina Hashaw. She has agreed to assist us moving forward,” The Colonel went in a distinctly smug tone as Sergeant Lanok stared in awe.
“I agreed to interrogate your prisoner, Victoria, nothing more, I have work to do” the tall woman replied in an ice-cold tone. “And only because the Lady required it. Tie them down tight, suicide is not acceptable.”
“Oh fuck me,” the female kidnapper let out as they began strapping the two of them to their chairs with leather straps and rope. Sapphire had no clue how many inquisitors there were, but they were rare as could be, she knew that much. 'Yup, they're fucked,’ she concluded, not sure if she wanted to watch this.
“Before we start you should know, I will learn what I want to know, so you might as well make this easy. If you don’t I won’t be able to guarantee your safety. I’m sure you don’t want to end up a drooling mess. Of course, you could just tell us right away.”
“She’s joking, don’t tell her anything.. ahrg!” the male let out, thrashing at his restraints. As the inquisitor dug her claws into his skull and squeezed, the guy’s head snapped back to look her in the eyes, pupils wide. She was clearly concentrating, her eyes burning vivid green as she stared into the guy’s eyes and began speaking.
“Let’s see here. Oh stop thinking about your crush that won't help you, she’s not even pretty… Who sent you?... Hello. You look familiar, so you worked for Gyros then? Noted… You didn't question someone willing to pay that much for a kidnapping job? Good god, you’re an idiot. Yes, yes, you lost three friends. I don’t care. Where were you supposed to deliver him?... I see.” The inquisitor let him go with a dejected sigh, the guy’s head slumping over to the side, a distant expression on his eyes as he twitched a bit.
“Well that was disappointing, so little discipline,” she went, taking out a notebook. “His name is Hinato, he was contracted through a gentleman named Gyros, whom I know rather well, by an anonymous beneficiary. Their destination was an abandoned warehouse where they would hand off the target to said beneficiary. Here it is, they met there yesterday day to discuss things you're looking for a woman in a hooded dress, her face was covered” She continued, tearing out a page from her notebook and handing it to Victoria. “I say you hurry up and pray they are waiting confused that their shit mercenaries haven't shown up yet, and remember Victoria: favor for favor.”
“This is on my mother's orders, take it up with her,” Victoria responded, inspecting the piece of paper. “You know this would have been so much easier if you had woken up when I told you to.”
“I still have a day of work ahead of me, speaking of which, let's see what she knows.”
“No need, I’m fine to talk!” the woman let out, looking terrifiedly at the guy strapped down next to her. “I’m Thalrex. I have been with this company for 2 years. I was paid 63 silver for my share, which is the most I have ever been paid for a one night job. We were waiting outside the window for half the night, we were supposed to be back by sunrise and the guy who got away is called Hjortun, he’s a coward, I have a flying lizard named Skitters and I swear I don’t know anything else!” Sapphire was wondering whether a fresh set of undergarments would be necessary for the mercenary, but she certainly put on a convincing performance if she wasn't actually scared shitless.
“Were you the ones who tried to scare the shit out of us at the tavern a few nights ago?”
There was a bit of a pause before Thalrex answered. “No… We just had to kidnap a dude for ransom” She sounded genuinely confused at that so she might actually be telling the truth.
“Ransom?” Dakota questioned, thinking for a bit. “Never mind I get it, drop the charges and we get him back” She continued, nodding to herself
The inquisitor looked back at them, looking very smug. “Anything else I can do for you?”
“No, I think we have places to be. I do owe you for this.”
“I’ll be sure to cash in when I need a place burnt to the ground... Toodeloo,” she went as she waltzed out the room. The City Guard captain followed her out, asking questions about if she could be persuaded to help with some of his other prisoners.
“Thanks for your cooperation,” Victoria went, looking at Thalrex. “They’re all yours Sergeant.”
“Wait, you promised to pay for my jail time. I don't want to be a slave!” Thalrex protested, fighting her restraints.
“And I didn’t want to be indebted to the inquisition, we can't all get what we want,” Victoria replied, turning to leave. Thalrex continued to protest loudly, sounding ready to break down completely as the door was shut behind them. Victoria turned to Sapphire and Dakota, her expression turning worried from her previous stone-cold professionalism.
“You two okay?”
“We're fine. Balethon is a bit worse for wear. He's being looked after though,” Sapphire replied, trying to hide the shock of what she had just seen.
“Actually he should be up and about by now. The poison should not last more than a few hours,” Dakota interjected. “We might need his nose for this. That snout of his is good for more than helping with cooking after all.”
“Let’s go pick him up then, we have transport on the roof. Don’t worry he doesn't stain. He’s just the sweetest in fact, so try to be nice,” Victoria replied, before making for the infirmary.
The rather bewildered Balethon was indeed up and about, even if he still looked a little stiff in his movements. The mercs had actually been very professional with the poison, only giving him a shallow cut to the base of the neck where it would act quickly but heal easily.
Making it to the roof, it was indeed Tiguan who was sitting perched on the landing platform. Sapphire knew he was on their team, but the sight of a jet black dragon sent shivers running down her spine. She stopped in her tracks for a second before forcing herself to move forward. Even if he shone like obsidian, clearly freshly polished, everything in her was screaming ‘RUN!’ at the sight of him.
“Yilditz, we have a warehouse that needs a visit, double time. The bastards we need might still be there,” Victoria shouted out as they made it out onto the roof.
“Roger that. See, I promised we didn’t just have to sit around and look scary,” Ylditz went in an encouraging tone, clearly directed at the dragon.
“Yeah yeah, that’s me, look scary and run errands.”
“Oh come now, you were the one who wanted some actual work,” Ylditz replied. “I’m sure you will get the chance to do some good today. Right, Victoria?”
“Well, we are chasing kidnappers. It doesn’t get much more pure-hearted than that”
“I thought you caught them?” Tiguan questioned, sounding more interested as Victoria helped Balethon aboard, the guard clearly struggling with what he was climbing upon. Tiguan seemed too distracted to notice though.
“We did, and now we are after the ones who hired the mercs, a proper bad guy just like you wanted.”
“I see... Well, let’s go then!” The dragon let out, jumping off the roof, suddenly in a big hurry, his crew plus Balethon and Victoria aboard. The rest of the dragonettes on the roof took to the sky under their own power.
“This day is getting strange real quick!” Sapphire shouted to Dakota.
“Just go with it. Not like we are gonna be attacked in this formation.”
“True, people tend to steer clear of me, now let’s go see about fucking up some bad guys!” Tiguan shouted back to them.
“Hear, hear!” Echoed out from a fair few of the other people in the formation. Not counting Tiguan and his now 5 person crew, they had half a dozen dragonettes here, seemingly all members of the family or guards from the estate.
The sun was still low in the sky as they soared over a not so desirable part of town. The skies were still quiet, most people weren’t gonna be up for at least a few more hours. They eventually found a building that matched the description, A large squat wooden warehouse, the number 6 marked on the roof, even if the paint had started to fade.
Tiguan had started relaying orders from Victoria so all could hear.
“Victoria is running interception with all loose flyers, in case someone runs. I will smash in the front door and give them a bad day. All good?” the dragon questioned, looking about the formation, receiving thumbs up all around. “Good, let’s go be heroes!” Tiguan let out with considerable enthusiasm as he went into a dive.
Victoria had disembarked, taking the lead of the dragonette formation, leading them down over the warehouse. The black dragon went into a steep dive with his wings tucked in, pulling away from the formation. Sapphire could just about make out someone shouting on Tiguan's back as he sped off; it sounded almost like Ylditz. “No, we can’t do that!”
Sapphire had expected him to land and then perhaps knock in the doors, but he didn’t do that. He was apparently very confident that this was the right building as he let loose a stream of acid aimed at the roof, covering it in the sickly gray gooey substance that quickly began eating away at the wooden structure. He spread his wings to slow down before landing on the roof, smashing through it with a resounding crunch of snapping wooden support beams.
“Well that is one way to do it,” Sapphire let out, staring in disbelief at the sight of the ruined building.
“Godsdammit Tiguan!” Victoria shouted out from ahead loud enough that it carried.
“Hands where I can see them and wings folded!” the dragon roared out from inside the warehouse, Sapphire not able to see anything through the hole except a cloud of dust slowly rising.
Victoria ordered the formation broken up into three wings and placed Dakota in charge of the third. Victoria taking the first wing inside with two and three holding the perimeter.
“Uhm… No one here,” Tiguan eventually bellowed out from inside, sounding more than a little disappointed.
“I am not paying for this,” Dakota stated disheartedly. “What does a warehouse even cost?”
“More than a few dencils I’m guessing,” Sapphire replied, shaking her head.
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Okay then. Tom and Jacky appear to have survived the night not some better than others. Sapphire and Dakota are thoroughly on the offensive even if they have ended up mostly just coming along for the moment.
As always do let me know what you thought down below, as we maintain course heading for number 100. that's is gonna be quite the occasion.
Until next time, have an awesome day.

ko-fi For having more pretty pictures commissioned.
Sapphire
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[HUGE SPOILERS] I found a new lore book (6200+ words) regarding the new Exotic quest in the Ginsor Datamine.

Captain-s-Log-Lore-Book-8db8710d79fd48d4af653de7d3b12858

Okay, this is a long one.... While digging through the Ginsor Datamine looking for information about the Glykon (Thanks to this post), I stumbled across what seems to be an entire Lore Book detailing the Glykon, The Scorn, The Crown of Sorrow and more. I've tred my best to format this but it's still not perfect as it came from plaintext, but the lore is VERY spicy. Take a look:

This page is blighted with mold and the imprint of a memory… The words seep experience into your open mind… THROUGH THE EYES OF CALUS THE CACOETHES… A crowd has gathered to stand with me, their emperor, soon to be so much more. Amsot spread word of my arrival, and they clamored to be first in my presence in the viewing chamber. I spot the Guardian and his little Light as well—an extra morsel of bait. The Ghost watches while the Guardian resigns to the rear. Pity. All come to view the zenith of my labors. I am omnipresent. Every angle that can be seen is seen by statues at every corner. My plated carriage monitors the Crown for aberrations. It is adorned with gold from the Castellum for my viewing. I paid many lives to pry it free from Hive clutches, but it bent most agreeably… its ability to bridge minds… and bring them to submit. I see my tributes, Scorn gibbering nonsense in unison, lashed and plugged to the Crown—a thorn made tool in my brilliance. My daring Councilors anchor their psyches and prepare to begin the communion. Greatness is before us. These watchers: I shall thrill them. I clap four monumental pairs of hands. "Let it… begin." I turn all my gaze to the chamber's expansive viewing window as shutters unveil the grave of Mars. Tendrilic bands of phasing Darkness spiral from the anomaly's core, enrapturing all of me… beckoning into the depth of its core with whispers like hooks through nervous flesh. I gape into the stimulating writhe. "Yes…" My Councilors place their hands on the Crown and focus cognition through it. They pry open the Scorn's collective synaptic pathways and sew them into the fabric of the anomaly's memetic sphere. The Glykon strains against the pull. Velocity surges forward to the anomaly; the surrounding reality tears away. We hold, suspended before the writhe. It fills all sight; Nothing just beyond the bend. Time ceases, and the cosmos arcs to accommodate my will. Now. Delight in me. I emulated all of me in your image; stretched my mind to live through so many… I reaped the pleasures and experiences of every vessel. But despite my sundry perspectives, I still only see through my own eyes—and I want more. I peer into the Dark nothing. "You are… oblivion. Not a destruction, but a melding of all that has come to pass. I wish to become as you are. To gorge on existence. To collect your promise to elevate me." My laughter is wild. All of my forms transfix on the swirling anomaly. "LOOK UPON ME!" The cosmos bends and snaps as I stand, returned to my feeble reality. Ignored again. The Scorn shriek nonsense in unison. It drowns out of the whispers. It is all any of me can hear. I reach out, as you showed me when last we met. I split open each Scorn mind from my carriage, searching for you. Nothing. Every time. So I tear open their bodies. Fitfully pulling limb from socket, mind from skull, scouring them for your presence. I search until the shrieking can only be heard from distant pens. I meet the eyes of each crew member who would not look away. In them, I see it. You. Peering back from behind the tension: An Observer. FRENETIC SCRAWL INKED IN THE MARGIN READS: Dug out a spot under the refuse pit. It's still running, so be quick.

This page is blighted with mold and the imprint of a memory… The words seep experience into your open mind… THROUGH THE EYES OF KATABASIS… Weeks bleed away. Where is your Ghost? Bahto grunts as he throws a crushed Scorn into a tangle of festering dark tendrils. These fungal growths had grown across the Glykon during the timeless expanse since their plunge, and only continued to spread. I don't know, I sputter as I pull a ragged blade from my gut. "Off fraternizing somewhere." I'm here. What do you need? Gilly says, appearing. Fewer holes, I groan. Bahto looks to the three Scorn that had ambushed us, now returned to the grave. "The rest will feel their deaths. How much farther?" Assuming the ship hasn't shifted again, not far once this one gets up. Gilly gestures to me. "Is Qinziq certain severing the crown will send us back?" It'll work. We better not have dug up this command key for nothing, I reply, holding up a Imperial security key. You said it was to stop the Scorn! Bahto roars. Stopping them doesn't matter if we don't get out. I pledged my life to Calus, and you want me to forsake him! He towers over me. I know a thing or two about abandonment. He used you to get what he wanted, just like he used me. He's gone, Bahto, and we're close to follow. Where does that leave your bloodline? I stand as a wave wracks the Glykon. It isn't something you see, more like a lightbulb bursting. A long blink before the pins and shivers wash over. Numb. I can hear it moving through the ship like cold metal tension. The three Scorn snap and contort in grotesque reanimation. You're welcome to stay, skull-cracker. __________________________________________________________________________________________________ We make it to the ship's bridge, howls tracking us down every hall. I seal the door with the command key and meet Qinziq beneath the command console at the entrance to the viewing chamber. She stands, encircled by 15 loyalist soldiers. This is everyone? I ask. Qinziq nods. I insert the command key into the viewing chamber door. After a moment, pistons disengage, and the door opens. Qinziq focuses for a moment. "Empty…" her voice rings from her. We enter the viewing chamber. The soldiers take up positions around the room. Bahto strides past the Darkness-infested crown and drops to his knees at the open viewing window. He stares into the endless. "How do we choose who deserves our loyalty?" I walk to his side. "Everyone's got their own way. No one's right. You don't owe anyone anything, Bahto." Qinziq signals that she is ready. As I approach the crown, I watch her eye trace the scorched handprints of each Councilor that last communed here. Shrieks echo down the steps leading to the bridge. Metallic scraping heralds the flame. I will do this so that others may live, Qinziq's voice flows. "I did not intend suffering but should have expected Calus's deceit. Ambition to steal away his secrets damned us all." Get us out and we're square. She plants her next words into my mind: 'I will, because you do not belong here.' She places her palms on the crown. Velocity surges backward into infinity, tearing away the surrounding reality. We stand in nothing, 17 defenders back to back around Qinziq and the crown. The shrieks grow louder, and through the whines of bending steel, the trembling flesh of Scorn pour into the nothing with us. Slug Rifles unleash a salvo in all directions from behind a handful of Phalanx shields, tearing line after line of Scorn down with explosive force. Incendiors step forward to cremate the remains between volleys. I add my gun to line, dropping Raiders before they can align shots on our ring and slinging Voidwall grenades to stem the flood. Qinziq screams, straining to sever the link as the Glykon thrashes against Dark waves. Black fire scalds her hands as Nothing twists around us. We fight until the floor is lined with dead Scorn and empty magazines. The shrieking recedes. Scraping metal echoes through the viewing chambers as a wave of Darkness tremors through the Glykon. Every unburnt Scorn seizes and begins to reconstitute. Soldiers panic and fire into heaps of writhing bodies, hoping to stop the process. In the chaos, lightning rips through the air, cutting through three Legionaries and rupturing an Incendior tank. The blast kills seven; the circle tightens. We return fire in the direction of the lightning and are met with two fetid Abominations. They burst into the chamber and rear back with crackling fists. I charge one, slipping into the Void to draw blades from it its sheath. Bahto snatches a Phalanx shield resting at his feet and challenges the other. Its bolts break on the shield. Our remaining guns harry them with slug-fire until we close the gap. I cut through hands and head, then pivot to see Bahto driving his shield into the other's face. Qinziq cries out. I spin on my heel to see her engulfed in black flame and the cosmos racing around us. She spreads her pain to us to hold on a few moments longer, to no avail. I look back to Bahto. Deeper past him, in the nothing, to the hulking silhouette dragging a flaming censer and I know: this is where we die. FRENETIC SCRAWL INKED IN THE MARGIN READS: Cut out a hideaway under the knife. Stowed some lab tech nearby.

This page is blighted with mold and the imprint of a memory… The words seep experience into your open mind… THROUGH THE EYES OF KATABASIS… Restless sleep plagued by the nightmare. I am in the streets when the sirens start. I lay watching the Traveler for a long time. Disbelief. The gap in thought of a semiautomatic mind. Red Legion sweeps. I see their harrowing fusillades tear annihilation through the Tower. Everyone is standing but me. Debris falling. I am separated. I reach for Gilgamesh and he is gone. The cage chokes our Light. Fire chases me from street to street. No Light. No ammunition. The City is burning. Faceless zephyrs screaming to me beneath a pitiless god. Red-plated death lines the walls, and The City is burning. I flee. I flee. I flee. I flee. I flee… my steps weighted down by guilt. The City is burning and you did nothing. Gil's broken star finds my shame. There is only us, forging survival. Together we crawl to exile. FRENETIC SCRAWL INKED IN THE MARGIN READS: Nightmare's back. Took months, but it always comes back—in force this time. Every night since we took on our cargo, they've been howling. I swear they're three decks down, but you can still hear 'em. Gil's been wandering the ship more. Time to start making go bags. Think I'll carve out a spot near the hangar… opposite side from Qinziq's lab. Place is swarming now.

This page is blighted with mold and the imprint of a memory… The words seep experience into your open mind… THROUGH THE EYES OF KATABASIS… A royal invitation got me as far as the inner reliquary. I enter the belly of the Leviathan, unattended. My eyes catch on the runs in Calus's crestfallen banners. His inner halls don't gleam—reminds me of stories from the Golden Age. Polish the veneer and present them on a platter, but when you peel back the layers it's just… old. Past, with prime far behind. Ahead, a Legionary in loyalist gild nods to me and swings open a door. A manufactured version of Calus stands tall on the other side. Its likeness mirrors the Tribute Hall's automaton and many other statuesque bots I'd spoken to him through. The statue of Calus whines to life. "You're early, but I suppose your tribe is always ahead of the pack, Hunter. Should I have this room moved, that you may stroll the Leviathan's halls that much longer and appreciate my hospitality?" I'm not sure what he wants to hear. "She's an impressive beast. I've come to take the job." I turn it like an offer. Uncomfortable silence. Come and see me, Katabasis. I have a gift for you. The statue points toward a domed chamber; its curled walls sport every kind of trophy. Bones on hooks. Taxidermy wrapped around terrified eyes and final moments. A clutch of Councilors watches me as they take mechanical plates from three other identical statues of Calus surrounding them. They huddle about a towering cage of filigreed alloys and woven circuitry, fitting the plates to it with sacramental focus, until the cage becomes a tomb around a pearlescent seat supporting a lonesome figure within. What an auspicious early arrival. Come. Witness my containment. Few have seen this, Calus wheezes from inside the cage, his voice like taut suffocation. Calus's withering form swells and jostles. My thoughts stink of disgust, and he can smell it. "I am no more trapped here than you are by your Light. You assume this flesh satisfies me? How small. My automatons stand as monuments of my image; reflections of my breadth. They are, as I am: one collective self, as Nothing is. I grit my teeth and look on, stepping sideways to see him from a different angle. His skin is mottled with sickly translucence that grips my stomach. Your thoughts are as open as your fears, Katabasis. Come, come… look upon me and let my Councilors assuage them. Councilors lay more thick plates over Calus's living misery, brushing past me as they finish and exiting the room with my inhibitions. Mechanisms within the plates engage as plum light emits from the slits between them. Nacre runs smooth around the frame and into a throne-like cup of sullied nobility. Beneath the throne, hoses bubble viscous royal wine into the sealed frame. Calus looks through me, eyes like clumped chalk, as the last Councilor fastens a faceplate into position. Deep orbs illuminate in the faceplate, like wild eyes in the open pitch of night. We are alone. What do you know of lies, Katabasis? I pick between the words. "There're a lot different kinds." And all of them are weakness. Calus's voice spills from the containment vessel and floods the room. "Gods do not lie. Like me, they have neither the capacity nor the reason. True power cannot be threatened. It does not compel deception. And yet, I have been betrayed by one I thought to be the final divinity." Sounds like you got swindled… ? I quickly blunt the question with respect: "…Emperor?" When the Darkness found me adrift in the cosmos, rejected by a people I had made, I thought to have found a confidant. No—an idol. They promised to return to me, to uplift me—that we may dance together among the stars and drink of their dying ecstasy 'til the end, as one. But their chilling little fleet came and went. It was luscious, and so many tasted so much. Yet I am empty. Nothing. Trapped in this limbo of their lie. And gods don't lie, I proffer. Precisely. To be seen… Calus pauses to heap the drama, "…for what we really are, underneath the surface, is bliss." All four statues step forward to bear Calus's vessel. His voice resounds from all of them simultaneously. "Come. Cast a shadow in my halls and drink. Soon we will speak to the liar, and separate from it the truth." FRENETIC SCRAWL INKED IN THE MARGIN READS: Smuggler's switches still working. Maintenance side-hatch. Had to kick in the vent.

This page is blighted with mold and the imprint of a memory… The words seep experience into your open mind… THROUGH THE EYES OF KATABASIS… Blood meets a slurry of oil and dark Ether draining into runoff vents in the cabin floor. I sit. A savage din echoes through the harvester craft. I can hear them in the war beast pens below deck. Gnashing teeth maddeningly chewing through restraints. The wet slaps of their bodies battering the walls. Bahto boards the harvester under a hail of tiny stones. "The hold is secured, and casualties collected." He shuts the bay to the Reef-storm behind him. How many? I ask, noticing the two of us are alone. He mistakes concern for weakness. "We will be ready for tomorrow's harvest." I shift the question. "How many more of these things does Qinziq want?" Two days of harvest before leaving the Shore. She tell you what for? No more than you. Following blind orders something that sits well with you? Qinziq does not answer to you, Lightbearer. So I've heard. More than once. My father spoke like you. Questioned, Bahto grumbles, laying down his gear. "He abandoned Calus to join Ghaul's coup. Disgraced our bloodline. I threw off my father's shackles and pledged my life to the emperor. I was shown mercy. Soon I will reclaim the clout of my line and the right to sire. Loyalty is not blindness. Loyalty is rewarded." Sounds like he turned away from a losing battle to one he thought he could win. He left when hope seemed small, before he could see victory through. Bahto pauses, pensive. "Calus will expose the secrets of the Darkness and use them to reclaim Torobatl. It will be." __________________________________________________________________________________________________ Qinziq blocks the entrance into her lab. It had been hastily transferred from Leviathan to Glykon after our procurement of the ship; all manner of vicious-looking machinery. She raises a finger to my face. Her language restructures in my mind. "You do not belong here." I need to know exactly what you're using them for. Why? They are animals. Our beasts of burden. I ponder the ethics. They used to be something else, a deadened part buried and ignored… but… Such concern for a Hunter. She meant to pin me to Cayde. "Ain't any different from defiling a corpse. You people honor your dead, don't you?" 'I do not answer to you,' Qinziq seethes into my mind. She brushes me away and moves to shut the door. Bahto does. His soldiers do. Do you want to politely ask the Scorn into confinement, or do you want to be straight with me? She scowls at me. "Where is your Ghost?" Hangar maintenance… Come, Qinziq says, leading me inside the lab to a bundle of large vats adorned with all manner of pumps and wiring. "This…" she slides a viewing port open on the front-most vat. Rabid Scorn eyes lock with mine through the view port. Dark fluid roils as the creature flails and fumes muted shrieks into the liquid. Natural connection to Darkness made stronger. Their minds, linked like ours, but without Barons, there is nothing to fill them. I watch it claw frantically against the vat wall until I hear the grating tone of bone-raw fingertips digging into the metal. A touch more violent than I'd expect from a mindless thing, I say. They subsist off the last thought imposed on them. Kill for Fikrul. For the lost prince. But… Qinziq presses her hand to the tank. She fixates her eye on the Scorn, and it mellows. Her words are strained. "…with effort, their psyche is a vessel. Through which many expressions can… commune." She releases the Scorn, exhausted, and it drowns again; eyes shrieking terror. "Too many for this one to inhabit." How does that help us? Calus will draw the Darkness into them, and we will squeeze from them all they know. How? I insist. When we arrive at the anomaly, you will see. FRENETIC SCRAWL INKED IN THE MARGIN READS: Fungus choked off the turbine maintenance deck. If you find a way in, throw the switch.

This page is blighted with mold and the imprint of a memory… The words seep experience into your open mind… THROUGH THE EYES OF AN EMPTY VESSEL… Dormant. Bound. #WERT! Threat. Storm outside. Rain soft thirst. Flashes show shapes. Shapes I know. er] Gentle whispers reach from me. To all. As Father, as Fikrul. Barons. Kells. Gone. Another voice… ent] Pressing. FearandConfusion. No. The mind beneath this one screams to the surface. Nothing, Scorn, a Son… Fallen… Eliksni…King… Akriis does not bow. Arise, commands the voice buried in whispers. Akriis does not bow, but Akriis is dead. Peeled away. __________________________________________________________________________________________________ The spine of the Glykon breaks, its vertebrae now interchanging. Scorn howl to herald the crossing into Nothing. Through the Locus, they hear the whispers and obey: Meet Salvation. FRENETIC SCRAWL INKED IN THE MARGIN READS: There's a scanner array off the hull near the hangar. I patched a line through to it to check Qinziq's feed. Needed somewhere to listen.

This page is blighted with mold and the imprint of a memory… The words seep experience into your open mind… THROUGH THE EYES OF KATABASIS… It didn't work. Truth be told, I have no way of knowing if Qinziq even finished what she was doing. Gilly said it took days to find a safe place to bring me back. The big one they all follow was hunting for him. I make a task of committing the Cabal bodies to burial. The costs are heavy, and I don't get everyone. We try to keep hidden, using the smuggler's hovels where I stashed go bags across the ship. All it takes is one of them seeing you. Been keeping track for what I think is a month… three months. The waves are random. When one hits, it rearranges pieces of the ship, and I have to find my way again. Gilgamesh is becoming more distant. Talking less. He wanders off for days at a time. So far, he always comes back. When I die, I dream of a City burning. Death dreams are a first. When I wake up, I don't know how long it's been. Gilly… won't say. There have been a hundred lives between this and the last one I remember. I live in a charnel house. __________________________________________________________________________________________________ I'm alive. And old. Get up. Gilly's voice is thin. Why? There's nothing to do but starve. Giving up again? You'd rather I just left you here? I roll myself to face him. "I'm not giving up. Just… take my Light and hold it until… until there's a way out." You know, I used to think we were the way out—us, together. But we're just stuck in another cycle. There's nothing to eat, Gil. You don't feel that emptiness chewing at you. Promise you'll leave me be until we're out. Gilgamesh looks at me for a long time without speaking. I close my eyes. I promise. FRENETIC SCRAWL INKED IN THE MARGIN READS: Maze of vents. It's somewhere in there. That fungus crap keeps blocking my path.

A log written by the hand of a lost Guardian aboard the Glykon, mired in mold and Darkness. This page is blighted with mold and the imprint of a memory… The words seep experience into your open mind… THROUGH THE EYES OF KATABASIS… Our disheveled Thresher rattles through lean Nessian atmosphere. Calus's words ring in my ears over the storm-rush of reentry: "The ship is yours to claim." Most of the seats in the drop-hold are empty. A Psion officer named Qinziq sits across from me. Her eye hasn't left me since she boarded. To my right, a craggy Cabal Centurion, complete with demolition satchels and Projection Rifle, adjusts the connectors on his pressure suit. He'd been assigned to make sure none of the other Cabal try to kill me. Seems news of my command had rendered a number of the crew indignant. I prod first: "I can't imagine hiding a ship from the Legion was easy on Nessus. To be honest, I'm surprised they haven't tried to storm the Leviathan." They would die, grumbles the Centurion. "Bad strategy." What does it matter? Calus saw fit to give you a ship, Katabasis. My Ghost, Gilgamesh, glares at me. Qinziq sneers and leans forward. Her voice seethes from her helmet. "The Legion is stirred by Caiatl's rousing, Human…" I recognize the tinge of malice in her address. "…and the fall of Torobatl. She sends heralds of her fleet. Ships come and go without stories recorded. We pass unnoticed for some time." The brute bows his head. First I'm hearing of it. You're saying they won't notice this ship taking off? I ask. For some time, Gilly quotes the Psion. But normally they would… because it's a Legion ship, and you've set me up to commit thievery? All Cabal ships belong to Calus, the Centurion growls. "And Qinziq does not answer to you." Right. My shoulders slump forward, head resting in my hands, as the Thresher touches down. We disembark onto prickly milk-rich soil, turning away from the sun as the deep green sky slowly bleeds out. A congested Cabal shipyard glows in the distance against the crest of dark riding the horizon. You are Katabasis. The Cabal is speaking to me. He gestures to himself. "Bahr'Toran." You're my skull-cracker. I point to my Ghost. "Name's Gilgamesh, or Gilly." Bahr'Toran considers for a moment and nods. "I do that. But you will need to know my name if we find battle." I'm not looking to have a shootout with an entire base. I think the plan is more a quiet reappropriation of goods, Bahto. I do not like that. Gilly's didn't take at first, but time wears ya down. Gilly nods to Bahto, who nods back with a grunt and begins walking. We follow him across the bluffs toward the yard, into flatland desolace and sunless gloom. The shipyard is a massive pulverized flat of rough tarmac and shanty barracks surrounded by a barrier fence. It overflows with craft ranging across eras of the Cabal Empire. On the far end of the strip, Gilly spots Arc-lights shining. A figure draped in azure raiment stands above a throng of Cabal, drawing attention like thunder. Whatever he's saying, they believe it. Gilly catches a few words. It's the same talk you hear anywhere else someone's been forgotten: blame, looking for a hole to fester in; wrestling at the edges with tepid hope; at risk of falling back down into the past. FRENETIC SCRAWL INKED IN THE MARGIN READS: Maintenance hall off the cargo bay door. Cozy spot floor-side.

This page is blighted with mold and the imprint of a memory… The words seep experience into your open mind… THROUGH THE EYES OF KATABASIS… Smaller ships flock like parasites around a centerpiece flagship. Qinziq points to it, a Cabal carrier-class warship. "Glykon Volatus." She touches her finger to the yard's perimeter barrier and says, "Over," as if directing an animal. Qinziq flattens her palm against the ground and displaces the radiolarian saturation with a bubble of Void energy. It bursts and launches her and Bahto over the barrier. I follow on steps of Light, my Tex Mechanica rifle dangling from a loose strap. Bahto settles last on uneasy jet bursts. Qinziq steps in front of him and calibrates a device on his chest plate before Bahto turns to face me. "One of your transmat," he grumbles. "I will stop their signal receiver, so our ship is hidden until we remove its locational anchor." We separate into the silent yard, to our tasks. Qinziq and I weave through a field of parked interceptors as Bahto does his best to stay inconspicuous on his way to a gargantuan signal dish at the adjacent edge of the yard. The daunting bow of the Glykon Volatus looms, obstructing the sky like a bloodied wave rearing up to consume us. I duck behind the frontal landing gear while Qinziq opens a service chute to the command deck. I peek through the open hatch. Down the hall, a lone Psion runs diagnostics on the bridge. I carefully crawl inside and slip the long rifle from my back. Shoot it. Guns are loud, Gil. He wasn't totally off-kilter. One thought from that Psions could alert the whole yard. 'Ignorance.' The word ripples through my brain in Qinziq's seething voice. 'She will not.' I didn't invite you in here, I thought. The ripple spreads: 'Yours is a mind unfocused and taxed. Chaos where reason should lie.' We need this ship, Gilly whispers. He swings into my peripheral view. "If you don't do something, that Psion is going to have every Cabal in the sector on us!" Qinziq surfaces from the hatch and kneels beside us. "This is Yirix, Ghost. She will not reveal us." She's Red Legion. Calus would see her executed. Psions fly many colors, but within the Cabal, we exist in congress, moving toward our own future. She will recognize my contribution, as I hers, Qinziq says, stepping forward. Gilly watches Qinziq approach the other Psion. "If this sours, don't give it the chance." His words cinch around my lungs. Short breaths of wary anticipation escape. I sight my long gun and wait. Yirix stiffens as she becomes aware of Qinziq. She turns. They bow their heads together. The two empathize and come to one understanding in silence. Whatever ambitions they have go further than this ship, this moment, this Cabal. I hadn't thought that way since I last wore the veneer of a Guardian. Sold a dream of an immortal City shielded by Light, as if it could go on forever. Forever is just a hope folks don't live long enough to see crumble. Yirix looks to Gilly and me, to my rifle, unthreatened. I feel her request for temperance and a tranquil reassurance of their cause. For a moment, I feel young. I stand. We warm the launch engines as Yirix slips away to join the throng and let us be. Bahto materializes onto the bridge out of transmat and out of breath. He manages a few prideful words, "Charges set. We will not be tracked." The Glykon breaks atmosphere as a colossal explosion rocks the shipyard and shutters through our hull. Flames spit across the distant yard below, spreading into a bonfire of heirlooms. Bahto called it "the spark that burns the past to fuel the future." Better than the other way around. FRENETIC SCRAWL INKED IN THE MARGIN READS: Door's on the fritz. Been that way since we dove. Staying away from this one.

Captain's Log This page is blighted with mold and the imprint of a memory… The words seep experience into your open mind… THROUGH THE EYES OF KATABASIS… Six hard weeks in the Reef. Scorn, Hive, and horrors enough. I still prefer the open Shore to the Glykon, but it's earning its keep. We crossed the belt and anchored our gravity off Phobos: an old Cabal base still holding an operational tether. I volunteered to clear the base of Taken. Get out a bit. Didn't even get a fireteam together before we realized the damn things were docile. Against the anomaly, our little serpent ship was a worm, a speck, like a distant star you squish between your fingers. The bottomless pit where Mars used to be fills every starboard porthole. Crew stand in the viewing chamber for hours. Some get dragged out. The immensity of it, a planet-wide fathom of hissing dark… boundless, and us: planted on the edge of reason… It defies you. Calus docked with us yesterday, his Scribe not but two steps behind him. Perused the stock. Picked out the first one for what they're calling communion. They brought something on board. Scorn haven't shut up since. Qinziq is getting it ready in the viewing chamber. Gilly's eyeing it too; looking through portholes. I hear him at night, whispering: It's the same… all the way through. You were right, Katabasis: it's all just a cage, a prison, but so much bigger than we thought. What are we doing here? FRENETIC SCRAWL INKED IN THE MARGIN READS: You can rest midway above the turbine grinder. The noise covers your moments.

This page is blighted with mold and the imprint of a memory… The words seep experience into your open mind… THROUGH THE EYES OF GILGAMESH… I linger on the corpse of my once-Guardian. I've hidden his shame for so long. I believed it was my obligation, to be the warmth when his fire died… but now, I see that obligation was a leash to keep me tied to life. It is a cold, coiled, choking reality, and I will hang gasping from it no more. See the truth, the whispers had offered. I saw it in every moment suffered aboard this vessel. A microcosm of violence extrapolated to the world beyond, with only one escape. Soon Katabasis would know it too. Scorn onlookers surround us. I raise Katabasis. Gilly… Katabasis kneels before me, his rifle beside him. "What is this?" A way out. I won't carry you anymore. You're… abandoning me? Katabasis looks to the Scorn, his rifle, his Ghost—no. No longer. Not his, not the Traveler's, not anyone's. I sacrificed everything to keep you moving forward. Guided you to every power you needed to survive. I share the truth he wants to forget. "And for what? It never ends anything. There's always more." The Scorn encroach across disjointed walkways. Katabasis sinks. "You said you wouldn't…" You, the Traveler. You've kept me trapped in this death knell. Now it's time to set us free. What does that mean? His words like stone weights. Sever our Light, or they'll rip you apart for a thousand lives. I gesture to the Scorn. You wouldn't. Your deaths are heavy, Katabasis, but I'll bring you back as many times as it takes for you to learn. He does not understand. "You think I don't feel pain? You think I don't suffer while you're hiding in your limbo?" Katabasis lurches forward. "I did everything YOU asked me to." YOU LEFT! I shout. "You left me here. You left me in the City. Made me turn away from the Traveler. We're like the Scorn in those tanks, drowning in panic… confusion… forever. You did that." The City was burning, and I wanted to live. Everything was… so we could live. He still didn't see it. This place is no different than Sol. A barrel of blood. There's no reason to go back. "Now the Light is burning." We can survive this. Katabasis holds out his palm for me. "Please?" I don't want survival, Katabasis. I drift away from him. "I want salvation." …It got to you, Katabasis sobs weakly, his epiphany complete. You can end this, for both of us. It's your turn to sacrifice, I offer. Everything you say is a lie! Katabasis grasps for his rifle. Lever-to-action. Shot to nothingness. Ghost to dead memory. FRENETIC SCRAWL INKED IN THE MARGIN READS: Water under the bridge, flooded with bodies waiting to stand again in the next wave. Be careful.

This page is blighted with mold and the imprint of a memory… The words seep experience into your open mind… THROUGH THE EYES OF KATABASIS… Calus's tomb-carriage overlooks the viewing chamber once again. All his forms stand around a garish mass of metal and apprehension: the crown, as he called it. Fewer crew members attend this communion after so many failed attempts. Gilly and I stand above a host of chattering carcasses. Plugs can cables run from them into the flesh of an Ether-logged Scorn beneath an ugly crown. The gold from the Castellum is flush with tarnish, stemming from some kind of lichen that had burrowed its way into the precious metal adornments since the last communion attempt. I thought gold doesn't stain, I say to Gilly. "It's an expression of purity." Like the Light? Mm, I grunt. Gilly fixates on the crown, on the viewing window and the depth beyond. Bahto takes the spot next to me and leans against the railing. "Are all Guardians ruled by uncertainty?" Councilors approach the crown. Bahto, in my experience, people who are too sure of themselves tend to die. The Councilors place their hands to the crown, and suddenly, I am greatly aware of this room's stillness. Our tilt. Bahto raises his voice over the intensifying chatter. "Your Ghost speaks to the Scorn, as much as they can." Curious, that's all. Looking for an angle, something we can use. Ain't that right, Gilly? I ask, trying to hide my suspicion. Gilgamesh says nothing, iris frozen ahead as the viewing curtain completes its retraction. Velocity surges forward to the anomaly, tearing away the surrounding reality. The sound of Calus's feverish multi-fold laughter drowns the hull's groans for mercy. It's different this time, not a passage. It's a wall. We crash hard—but not all at once. It's a steady tumbling impact. Always down. The cosmic bands bend around us and shutter as they're drawn into thin bright needles of diminishing relevance. Peripheral obliteration mainlined and burnt through. The space between each needle of light expands until. It. IS. The transition is like a reluctant membrane; a depth of souls frozen over and wailing. The ice grinds against itself at the ecliptic barrier between form and expression. We cross: sunless. Adrift on empty currents with no direction. Where's the emperor? FRENETIC SCRAWL INKED IN THE MARGIN READS: They keep an offshoot of the hangar locked. If no one's using it…

Progress I - The Unquiet Grave (The Opening Feast of Harrenhal)

How oft on yonder grave, sweetheart; where we were won't to walk.

^{harrenhal, 215 AC | evening of day one of harrenhal: the feast of a hundred masks |} ^{the unquiet grave}

Daenaerys I Targaryen

MOTHER OF THE REALM
Her daughter Rhaegelle dressed her for the beast’s ball.
It was a splendid and rich dress, recently tailored, crushed black velvet and silk. Myrish lace framed Daenaerys' slim neck and fine jaw in a grand thrice-tiered collar, plunging down to a stomacher meticulously woven with dancing silver dragons that encircled her waist. The beasts covered her head to toe, dancing up her sleeves and falling down her skirts with three snapping, gleaming heads, fangs bared to swallow the floor beneath her.
The only jewelry she partook in was a necklace with an opal set in silver. A gift, one she was loathed to be parted from. And then there was the crown, the new one. Silver dragons, woven together in bands of bodies, their talons grasping at sapphire seahorses and amethyst lightning, a single draconic head rising above the writing mass at the apex, itself bearing a tiny crown of gold and sweeping back silver wings over her silver locks. Her Kings and her, evermore, trapped in time. Would it be truly so.
"Beautiful, Mother." Her daughter murmured, stepping back after nestling it among braids and curls.
"Go and see to your own arrangements, daughter." The Queen dismissed her without a second glance. Before her on the desk sat a black ebony mask, another dragon, this time only half the head. The snout fell down across her face, the eye sockets angled just right to allow her to see. Her fingers ran over the ragged wood-carved surface as she listened to departing footsteps.
Once Rhaegelle had left her, Daenaerys picked up the mask and tied the silken cord around her head. A dragon, that is what they had called her in her youth. The youth who had faced down even a King to see Daeron still clutched to her beast. Her darling boy. The son who had made her a mother.
Her fingers fell over the opal and the clasp fell open. Two tiny portraits, the twins of larger ones that hung in her chambers, always watching, they were. One of a boy with soft eyes and a soft smile, disheveled silver hair and a slashed doublet of black and red. Young; an immortal. The other of a man far older, weathered with age and experience, pinched blue eyes looking back at her with austerity. Old; a sentinel.
Tears gathered in Daenaerys' eyes. Beneath her mask's snarling visage she pressed the jewel to her lips, and then let it fall to her bodice once more. Those tears were swallowed.
In the halls of Harren the Black the hearths had been cleared and glowed with low orange flames. The fractured roof of the hall let moonlight fall through the cracks and dapple the uneven floor of the infamous Hall of a Hundred Hearths. From the railings of the second tier of the hall hung the plush black-and-blood banners of House Targaryen, the red dragon and her three heads, and behind the throne was her own coat of arms, eleven dragons prancing on a field below swords and sigils. It was here that Daenaerys had called for her ball in the honour of the throne, the eve before the tourney.
They were borrowing from Essosi tradition in a way, as each guest was instructed to wear a mask, either representing their House or otherwise themselves. That was why so many Targaryens wore the dragon masks, crowding the dais where she stood. They looked like a mummery troop, obscured, purple eyes peering and preening, studying and measuring. And there Daenaerys stood in the center of their cabal, elevated; alone.
Alone. How true that was. She could see Durran out of the corner of her eye, as she always did, he normally came to hear her speak. He was frowning, she thought she could make it out, frowning as blood wept from the arrow still lodged in his throat. He had been standing there so long a puddle of it crept slowly towards the edge of her skirt, but she paid it no mind.
What was a bit of blood in a place such as this? Yet another ghost to walk the halls; she brought them all with her. His was not the only dead face she saw in the crowd.
“My lords and ladies.”
A hush fell over the room as Daenaerys’ booming voice filled it. It had been five years since she had last addressed a room of this size. One would not have guessed that, judging by the pride in her posture, the stiffness of rulership present, and the immaculate tone used. And yet she still seemed distracted.
“Many of you have traveled long distances to be here today. Such an undertaking is not lost on me, for I too have traveled from the comforts of the Red Keep. Tonight I begin the first evening of my second Royal Progress. I will show my children and my grandchildren the realm they will shepherd when I am passed, and I invite you all to accompany me.”
The Queen gestured to those in attendance, arms swept, black-and-silver sleeves dragging over the dais as she half-turned, “We shall see the Reach and her bounties, the West and its gold mines, the Bloody Gate and stand at the foot of the fierce mountains of Arryn. We will meet the Northmen at the Moat and celebrate our friendship, and see the stronghold of Baratheon at the cliffs of the Narrow Sea.” It was then that she paused, a barely noticeable hitch in her tone. Her eyes fell on the phantom of her husband, the flood of crimson ichor that drenched the hall, crept up the walls, towards laughing gargoyles and the burning men of Harrenhal.
She shut her eyes. When she opened them, a heartbeat later, it was gone. It was gone.
“--And then we shall see the Stone Way, and witness five years of peace with Dorne. Only then will I return to my Iron Throne.”
She stepped down from the dais, then, towards the brood of dragons stewing beneath her. She set one hand atop the shoulder of Rhaenyra Targaryen, the Princess of Dragonstone; her eldest living child. The other was on the opposite shoulder of a younger hatchling, addressing the crowd alongside him in that moment, “Behold, my grandson Aegon. He is the son of my daughter, and will one day be hailed as Aegon, the Fourth of His Name. Embrace him as you would me and your Princess of Dragonstone. One day your children and grandchildren will look to him for guidance.” Once she was certain the hall had their eyes on the pair, Daenaerys moved away and, with measured steps, returned to the highest tier of the dais.
Before she finally took to her erected throne, she stopped.
“But, my treasured guests, have a care; Black Harren and his sons still roam these halls, and surely hate the sight of Targaryens. Be sure to not stray too far from the light of the Hundred Hearths, lest you be cursed to join them here in torment and hellfire as well.”
When she sat, the music began, and the mummer’s farce was over. She would not let it show how much such a performance had taken out of her. Even now she felt tired, but, sitting through this ball she would do to restore faith in her crown, “A fine speech, my Queen.” Sedge Stone, in her woman’s platemail, stooped to mutter in her ear as the swordswoman took up a position next to the throne.
On each side of the grandest hall in all of Westeros were tables of small foods and sweet desserts, meals that could be taken and eaten easily without a need to sit and rest -- Though benches and tables were present for the more easily-tired and elderly guests. The majority of the hall had been cleared for dancing and conversation, which underwent gleefully now that the Queen’s address had passed.
The only true seat in the room was the one Daenaerys took overlooking the room from her raised dais. There she sat now with a flute of bright gold wine, watching the dancing below her with a cautious eye, her ornate and heavy mask in her lap so she might drink unimpeded.
To her right, her Lord Commander, and to her left, the Queen's Sword. Among the guests who swarmed the balconies ringing the Hall was another woman in her service, the lady Myranda Blackwood, who stood guard with a bow slung over her shoulder, overlooking the dais. Nothing escaped her razor-sharp gaze, not even the twitch of a servant or the errant fluttering of a guest. No, the Queen's Eye did not miss anything.
Durran's fingers were bony and cold as they settled onto Daenaerys' shoulders, a rusty smell of iron and blood filling her nose at his reappearance. She paid the dead's touch no mind, even if her face turned to stone at the feeling of it. For a moment she reached with her free hand as if to grasp at him, but lowered it just as swiftly to avoid being the fool, and prayed none noticed the momentary lapse.
The Stranger taunts me, as he always has, as the High Septon says he does. He fills my mind with demons, tonight of all nights, to distract me from my path. The Queen instead shivered, shoulders contracting reflexively, "Bring me more wine." She murmured darkly; the drink was best to drown these 'holy visions' out.
She watched the beast's ball, but did not join the dance. That was their game now, really; if it had even been hers to begin with.

D100 list of things that are healing potions and also magical hooch.

Here’s a list of booze for healing potion substitutes on treasure rolls. Below are some blatantly plagiarized names from other properties and some rough approximation of puns.
Bottles are uniquely shaped and colored, with only their name as labeling information. Any bottle can be Identified to reveal the effects. All bottles have a 1 minute duration unless stated otherwise (9 rounds)Casting modifier for spells is Con. Save against negative effects is Con 15.
To denote higher tier healing potions, potions can be described as “Platinum” or “Brewer’s Choice”. Adjust power level as needed if numbers seem clearly wrong. Wouldn't trust anyone who comes up with this list to know how to balance a magic item.

Spinlandia: Drinker hovers a few inches above the air, then begins spinning wildly with no set pattern. This does not impede any actions that they would normally do somehow.
Ethereal Ethanol: Temporarily gives you the effects of Wind Walk, but you appear as a ghost with a spook factor of 2.
Dreadrum: Dims all nearby lights or overcast the sky as needed to create spooky ambience. An unseen narrator gives a grim summary of the situation at hand.
Stabsinthe: Advantage on attacks that deal piercing damage. Bottle shatters when quaffed and acts as a Dagger.
Marsalamander: Grants resistance to fire and cold damage, in addition to belching a plume of flame.
Seaglum Gin: Filled with intense romantic longing for the ocean, unless the drinker is already at sea, in which case they will pine for the shore.
Marteeny: Cast Reduce on drinker when quaffed.
Champain: Deals 1d6 acid damage to the drinker in addition to the healing. Any damage the drinker receives during the duration causes the very same damage on the attacker in the form of gastrointestinal distress.
Hopscotch: Gain the benefits of the jump spell, but non jump based locomotion is rendered impossible.
Lifewine: Can act as a revivify, but to use it in this manner you must stab the bottle’s sharpened lip into the chest of the target.
Bacardio: Healing effects are delayed until after jazzercise routine.
Doomshine: You become supernaturally aware of any targets you intended to kill if they are within a mile, and they know it.
Werewhiskey: Drinker is polymorphed into a were creature of the first animal they think of, and gain no changed statistics or additional limitations.
Ballroom Blitzer: Every creature in a 100 ft radius of the drinker is targeted by the spell Friends by every other creature, which then immediately expires.
Sangria: Lingering hunger for humanoid blood for the next 48 hours. No actual vampirism.
Supertonic: Cast Haste on self when quaffed, but puts the user to sleep when it expires.
Goodness Sake: Greater Restoration when quaffed. Opening the bottle is accompanied by your daily positive affirmations.
Mindflayer: Advantage on all skill checks and proficiency with all tools while also Feebleminded.
Sheet-Phazed: Phase out to the astral plane for 1 round in a puff of lightning. Reappear in a random unoccupied location 150 feet away.
Forbidden Apple Cider: 6d10 necrotic damage when quaffed. It is however, the best tasting drink you will ever have.
Blanc-Slate: Lesser Restoration in a can. Immediately forget what had caused the injury or affliction that was remedied.
Loose Tannin: You gain advantage on your next initiative roll. The bottle chastises you for being unpredictable and destructive after your next combat, but compliments your police work.
Rhapsody in Brew: 5 minute proficiency in any instrument. Only sad songs.
Grog of Wisdom: Any advice you give has the effect of the spell Guidance to the listener, but you are nearly unintelligible.
Flight of the Passing Fancy: Next suggestion suggested to drinker is suggested as if the suggestor cast Suggestion.
Mulled and Lulled: Always a supreme potion, but puts the drinker to sleep immediately.
Portinent Portent: Cast Find the Path, but it only leads to more liquor.
Keystone of Light: Aggressively mediocre taste.
Instant Plaster: Induces projectile vomiting. The defiled location is perfectly plastered with a 5x5 ft square of plaster.
Anty Gin: Poisons drinker: Grants resistance to poison for the next week.
Hoppritunity: Rerolls a single critical failure from the drinker or critical hit against the drinker in the next hour. Before then the drinker feels like today is their day.
Sweet Release: Save against HP to 0.
Wyrmwood: It’s absinthe.
Phoenix Tears Spiced Rum: 1d8 Fire Damage when quaffed. If knocked unconscious before the next long rest, instead set HP to 1.
Almost Entirely Turpentine: The bottle is labeled as containing 97% turpentine. It is not known what the other 3% of the drink is, but it heals you nonetheless.
Bitter End: 350 ft of rope shoots out of the bottle after drinking, after which the bottle suddenly weighs 2500 pounds while attached to the end of the rope.
Idiot Juice: Cast Heroism on drinker when quaffed.
Will-o-the-Whisky: Grants the capacity to interact with the undead. Attracts the undead.
Drink Mimic: Disguised as another drink. DC 20 investigation to reveal. HP 6: AC:14 Bite:+8 to hit, 2d4+2 damage.
Wizard’s Hooch: Fermented potion runoff. Roll on a wild magic table until the drinker is satisfied or incapacitated.
Testosterum: Male for 48 hours when quaffed. If already male then induced erectile dysfunction for that duration.
Estrogin: Female for 48 hours when quaffed. If already female then induces menstrual cramps for that duration.
Big Daddy Bumpy’s Glug Glug Jug: Counts as 4 healing potions of the same type. Drinker is compelled to spend at least 30 seconds drinking the 1 gallon jug with no ill effects.
Fireball: When opened, the drink becomes unstable. Cast Fireball when drunk or thrown at the end of turn. If successfully quaffed without perishing, then gives the effects of Hero's Feast.
Dead Ringer: Cast Disguise Self when quaffed. Made to resemble the most recently seen deceased humanoid.
Pommegranite: Save or petrify when quaffed for 1d4 rounds.
Sable Sauvignon: Retails for 1000 gp. Excellent year. It tastes like vinegar.
Moose Piss: Unremarkable IPA with a novelty name.
Liquid Bread: Pours out a loaf of warm bread in place of a drink. Healing effects apply after eating bread.
Das Boot: The drinker can cast the spell Knock with a 10 foot running start.
Hobbled Cobble: Cream liqueur from a shoe. Induces extreme discomfort, but not from anything specific.
Ambrosia: Drink of the gods, which the drinker now undoubtedly believes themselves to be for the duration. Any creature other than the drinker that acknowledges their divinity during this time can Turn Undead.
Rageahol: Causes a 1st level Rage for 1d4 rounds. The drink is slightly addictive.
Kugelblitz: The next creature to cause damage to the drinker receives 3d8 lightning damage accompanied by a baritone condemnation from above.
Presto!: When quaffed, the liquor exits the mouth of the nearest humanoid after 1 round.
Oops, All Bees: Releases a healing swarm when opened rather than a beverage. Heals 1d4 hp per round to all creatures in a 15 ft cloud centered on the bottle for 1d4 rounds. The stinging hurts as it normally would.
Brent Redding’s: Bottle bears likeness of a woodsman on the front. Conjures a mustache and a plaid flannel onto drinker when quaffed.
Elder Spice: 2-in-1 Beverage/Deodorant.
Lazy River: Drinks itself when opened. More specifically, the liquid forces itself down drinkers throat in a horrible manner.
Grapevine: Randomly scry into distant juicy gossip.
The Stumbling Angel: Cast fly when quaffed. Drinker flies if unobstructed and is unable to orient themselves in the air correctly. The drinker is fully mobile, but considered prone for the duration.
Skedaddle Schnapp: Expeditious Retreat. Leaves a 5ft cloud of smoke when first moving after drinking.
Tequilamentations: Cast Vicious Mockery when quaffed. If no hostile targets are nearby the spell targets the drinker.
L'oscurità di Buio: When the bottle is opened, the drinker peers into the Abyss. A demon will request the drink as a favor. If offered, the demon disappears, and is considered friendly if their paths should cross again. Otherwise the demon considers the drinker a personal nemesis.
Sherryment: Cast Mass Suggestion when quaffed in a 30 ft radius. The suggestion is to party.
Pallagorium’s Pickled Punks: Fetus in a jar. Quaffing the fluid cast Commune targeting an evil deity. Consuming the punk Planeshifts the drinker to that deity until the effect passes.
Alcoholics Innocuous: Cast Invisibility when quaffed. Accompanied by scene transition audio cue.
Strong Island Iced Tea: Temporarily changes base STR to 21 if it is lower. Additionally your current shirt is shredded to pieces.
Distilled Alcahold: Cast a DC 18 Hold Person on both you and a nearby hostile creature, or any creature if unavailable. If one target breaks the hold then they both do.
Vodcabulary: Cast Comprehend Languages. Disadvantage on checks to read or speak.
Spirited Away: The drinker is banished to the Ethereal Plane for the duration. The drinker returns in a different outfit having aged 1 month and with a random item from Magic Table B.
Neverclear: Cast an acrid smelling Darkness with a 60ft radius centered on the drinker.
Mordenkainen’s Miraculous Mead: Cast Mordenkainen's Magnificent Mansion with the exception that it is currently occupied by an ongoing party and cannot be used for long rest, only short rest. Attempts to find a quiet spot to sleep will be interrupted by fey partygoer shenanigans.
Teleporter: Switch places with the spatially nearest creature that is also drinking. If the distance is greater than 1 mile then the bottle itself spins rapidly in the air and phases out with a popping sound.
Hard Venomaid: Poison. If already poisoned, then cures poison.
La Vie En Rose: Every creature in a 100 ft radius is simultaneously Charmed by every other creature in that space for the duration.
Bloody Mary: Accompanied my malicious whispers. If anyone ever drinks this a third in their lifetime a Shadow Demon materializes behind them. Any beyond that and the demon materializes briefly before sheepishly retreating.
Cosmopolis: On the drinker’s next long rest, they visit a bustling bazaar made of the night sky itself. Affords the opportunity to purchase magical items. Upon waking any gold spent and items gained are retained.
Pina Collider: The drinker and the nearest Large or smaller hostile creature (any creature if unavailable) with a 2000 ft radius are suddenly pulled to an equidistant location and suffer 1d4+ 1per 50ft distance traveled bludgeoning damage on impact. Any obstructions trigger the damage early, and the other creature is flung to that location if able.
Ancient Fashioned: Grants a vision of a long dead king of eld’s dying wishes to preserve a civilization lost to time.
Bizzaregarita: Conjures an unaligned commoner who does not understand why they are here, but is completely unperturbed by the circumstances that are transpiring.
Boulevaustere: Save against Charm. Drinker is compelled to be generous if the opportunity arises.
Incognito Mojito: Conjures a trench coat, sombrero, newspaper, bench, and groucho mask.
Reminisky: Drinker and any creature within 60 ft makes a saving throw against being stunned for 1 round with overwhelming feelings of homesickness. Has no effects if at home.
Blurrmouth: Cast Blur on drinker. Everything is difficult terrain.
Holy Grail Ale: After drinking each bottle, The Questing Beast appears briefly to reveal the location of the next bottle.
Sarcophaguice: Bottle shatters and conjures a sarcophagus that acts as an Imprisonment spell on failed save. The drinker is encased in the sarcophagus for the duration, and when released is dressed in a pharaoh's regalia worth 200 gp and a glass of wine in hand.
Beezlebooze: When quaffed, the drinker casts Fear centered on themselves while an illusion plays out of them ascending to their “true” demonic form.
Mimosarmory: Empty bottle unfolds into an armory rack containing all weapons in the PHB listing. Once a weapon is drawn from it, all other objects dissolve into ash.
The Bud Knight: A spectral mounted knight materializes on a nearby hilltop or otherwise sufficiently dramatic precipice. The knight makes a single mounted charge with his lance at someone before dissipating. If the knight is dismounted by another mounted combatant during this charge then the knight leaves behind a six pack of beer when dissipating.
Corona Solaris: Bottle lights up and acts as the point source for the spell Sunlight for the duration.
Supernatural Ice: Cast Armor of Agathys when quaffed. In addition to the frosty armor, the spell generates a beer helmet made of ice filled to the brim that dissipates when the spell ends.
Milwaukee’s Beast: Drinker is resistant to all damage types while drinking from the keg for the next minute until they spend their action to do anything other than drink the keg. Once the initial stream of drink is broken, the keg can be used as a 1d8 bludgeoning weapon that you are proficient with once before breaking.
Bloodweiser: The bottle is made to look like a beating heart, and contains a dark red syrupy liquor. grands advantage to all intimidation checks when quaffed to creatures unfamiliar with the beverage.
Scale Mail Ale: Sets AC to 16 if it is below that for 8 hours. Otherwise grants +1 AC and incomparable skin dryness.
Thunderous Rum: For the duration you may speak a word of power. Depending on the nature of that word it may take the effects of the Command, Thunderwave, Charm Person, Dissonant Whispers, Bless, or Bane at the DM’s discretion.
Jolly Roger: Conjures a spectral sailboat. 1d4 ethereal Bandits will exit and attempt to pillage and destroy everything not explicitly friendly.
Butterfly Gangster Elixir: The drinker is under the effects of Phantasmal Force. The illusion is that of a gang of criminals whom the drinker is the boss of. The condition is that the drinker feels compelled to look tough in front of his crew for the duration.
Royal Crown: A 6 second ceremony of crowning occurs while quaffing, including ethereal trumpet fanfare, confetti, a red carpet, a flag with a coat of arms, and a crystal crown dropped by cherubs. The land space or building that is occupied more or less within a 100ft sphere of the drinker is now considered their domain by divine right to rule for 24 hours. Trespass by hostile creatures while the king is present in his domain summons three spectral Knights ready to give their life for their regent. The king may relinquish his right to rule willingly or by force of arms, in which there will be a new ceremony during the duration.
Esmerelda Diamante: +77hp.The drink belonged to a chaotic deity whose wrath has just been incurred for the duration. The drinker is explicitly warned with some sort of omen pertaining to that deity before opening the bottle.

(Extreme spoilers) The datamined lore around the ship mentioned in the season trailer, condensed and in chronological order - THERE IS NO LIGHT HERE

THROUGH THE EYES OF KATABASIS…
A royal invitation got me as far as the inner reliquary. I enter the belly of the Leviathan, unattended. My eyes catch on the runs in Calus's crestfallen banners. His inner halls don't gleam—reminds me of stories from the Golden Age. Polish the veneer and present them on a platter, but when you peel back the layers it's just… old. Past, with prime far behind.
Ahead, a Legionary, in loyalist gild, nods to me and swings open a door. A manufactured version of Calus stands tall on the other side. Its likeness mirrors the Tribute Hall's automaton and many other statuesque bots I'd spoken to him through.
The statue of Calus whines to life. "You're early, but I suppose your tribe is always ahead of the pack, Hunter. Should I have this room moved, that you may stroll the Leviathan's halls that much longer and appreciate my hospitality?"
I'm not sure what he wants to hear. "She's an impressive beast. I've come to take the job." I turn it like an offer.
Uncomfortable silence.
Come and see me, Katabasis. I have a gift for you.
The statue points toward a domed chamber; its curled walls sport every kind of trophy. Bones on hooks. Taxidermy wrapped around terrified eyes and final moments.
A clutch of Councilors watches me as they take mechanical plates from three other identical statues of Calus surrounding them. They huddle about a towering cage of filigreed alloys and woven circuitry, fitting the plates to it with sacramental focus, until the cage becomes a tomb around a pearlescent seat supporting a lonesome figure within.
What an auspicious early arrival. Come. Witness my containment. Few have seen this, Calus wheezes from inside the cage, his voice like taut suffocation.
Calus's withering form swells and jostles. My thoughts stink of disgust, and he can smell it. "I am no more trapped here than you are by your Light. You assume this flesh satisfies me? How small. My automatons stand as monuments of my image; reflections of my breadth. They are, as I am: one collective self, as Nothing is.
I grit my teeth and look on, stepping sideways to see him from a different angle. His skin is mottled with sickly translucence that grips my stomach.
Your thoughts are as open as your fears, Katabasis. Come, come… look upon me and let my Councilors assuage them.
Councilors lay more thick plates over Calus's living misery, brushing past me as they finish and exiting the room with my inhibitions. Mechanisms within the plates engage as plum light emits from the slits between them. Nacre runs smooth around the frame and into a throne-like cup of sullied nobility. Beneath the throne, hoses bubble viscous royal wine into the sealed frame. Calus looks through me, eyes like clumped chalk, as the last Councilor fastens a faceplate into position. Deep orbs illuminate in the faceplate, like wild eyes in the open pitch of night. We are alone.
What do you know of lies, Katabasis?
I pick between the words. "There are a lot of different kinds."
And all of them are weakness. Calus's voice spills from the containment vessel and floods the room. "Gods do not lie. Like me, they have neither the capacity nor the reason. True power cannot be threatened. It does not compel deception. And yet, I have been betrayed by one I thought to be the final divinity."
Sounds like you got swindled… ? I quickly blunt the question with respect: "…Emperor?"
When the Darkness found me adrift in the cosmos, rejected by a people I had made, I thought to have found a confidant. No—an idol. They promised to return to me, to uplift me—that we may dance together among the stars and drink of their dying ecstasy 'til the end, as one. But their chilling little fleet came and went. It was luscious, and so many tasted so much. Yet I am empty. Nothing. Trapped in this limbo of their lie.
And gods don't lie, I proffer.
Precisely. To be seen… Calus pauses to heap the drama, "…for what we really are, underneath the surface, is bliss." All four statues step forward to bear Calus's vessel. His voice resounds from all of them simultaneously. "Come. Cast a shadow in my halls and drink. Soon we will speak to the liar, and separate from it the truth."
THROUGH THE EYES OF KATABASIS…
Our disheveled Thresher rattles through lean Nessian atmosphere. Calus's words ring in my ears over the storm-rush of reentry: "The ship is yours to claim."
Most of the seats in the drop-hold are empty. A Psion officer named Qinziq sits across from me. Her eye hasn't left me since she boarded. To my right, a craggy Cabal Centurion, complete with demolition satchels and Projection Rifle, adjusts the connectors on his pressure suit. He'd been assigned to make sure none of the other Cabal try to kill me. Seems news of my command had rendered a number of the crew indignant.
I prod first: "I can't imagine hiding a ship from the Legion was easy on Nessus. To be honest, I'm surprised they haven't tried to storm the Leviathan."
They would die, grumbles the Centurion. "Bad strategy."
What does it matter? Calus saw fit to give you a ship, Katabasis. My Ghost, Gilgamesh, glares at me.
Qinziq sneers and leans forward. Her voice seethes from her helmet. "The Legion is stirred by Caiatl's rousing, Human…" I recognize the tinge of malice in her address. "…and the fall of Torobatl. She sends heralds of her fleet. Ships come and go without stories recorded. We pass unnoticed for some time."
The brute bows his head.
First I'm hearing of it. You're saying they won't notice this ship taking off? I ask.
For some time, Gilly quotes the Psion.
But normally they would… because it's a Legion ship, and you've set me up to commit thievery?
All Cabal ships belong to Calus, the Centurion growls. "And Qinziq does not answer to you."
Right. My shoulders slump forward, head resting in my hands, as the Thresher touches down. We disembark onto prickly milk-rich soil, turning away from the sun as the deep green sky slowly bleeds out. A congested Cabal shipyard glows in the distance against the crest of dark riding the horizon.
You are Katabasis. The Cabal is speaking to me. He gestures to himself. "Bahr'Toran."
You're my skull-cracker. I point to my Ghost. "Name's Gilgamesh, or Gilly."
Bahr'Toran considers for a moment and nods. "I do that. But you will need to know my name if we find battle."
I'm not looking to have a shootout with an entire base. I think the plan is more a quiet reappropriation of goods, Bahto.
I do not like that.
Gilly's didn't take at first, but time wears ya down.
Gilly nods to Bahto, who nods back with a grunt and begins walking. We follow him across the bluffs toward the yard, into flatland desolace and sunless gloom.
The shipyard is a massive pulverized flat of rough tarmac and shanty barracks surrounded by a barrier fence. It overflows with craft ranging across eras of the Cabal Empire. On the far end of the strip, Gilly spots Arc-lights shining. A figure draped in azure raiment stands above a throng of Cabal, drawing attention like thunder. Whatever he's saying, they believe it. Gilly catches a few words. It's the same talk you hear anywhere else someone's been forgotten: blame, looking for a hole to fester in; wrestling at the edges with tepid hope; at risk of falling back down into the past.
THROUGH THE EYES OF KATABASIS…
Smaller ships flock like parasites around a centerpiece flagship. Qinziq points to it, a Cabal carrier-class warship. "Glykon Volatus." She touches her finger to the yard's perimeter barrier and says, "Over," as if directing an animal. Qinziq flattens her palm against the ground and displaces the radiolarian saturation with a bubble of Void energy. It bursts and launches her and Bahto over the barrier. I follow on steps of Light, my Tex Mechanica rifle dangling from a loose strap.
Bahto settles last on uneasy jet bursts. Qinziq steps in front of him and calibrates a device on his chest plate before Bahto turns to face me. "One of your transmat," he grumbles. "I will stop their signal receiver, so our ship is hidden until we remove its locational anchor."
We separate into the silent yard, to our tasks. Qinziq and I weave through a field of parked interceptors as Bahto does his best to stay inconspicuous on his way to a gargantuan signal dish at the adjacent edge of the yard.
The daunting bow of the Glykon Volatus looms, obstructing the sky like a bloodied wave rearing up to consume us. I duck behind the frontal landing gear while Qinziq opens a service chute to the command deck.
I peek through the open hatch. Down the hall, a lone Psion runs diagnostics on the bridge. I carefully crawl inside and slip the long rifle from my back.
Shoot it.
Guns are loud, Gil. He wasn't totally off-kilter. One thought from that Psion could alert the whole yard.
'Ignorance.' The word ripples through my brain in Qinziq's seething voice. 'She will not.'
I didn't invite you in here, I thought.
The ripple spreads: 'Yours is a mind unfocused and taxed. Chaos where reason should lie.'
We need this ship, Gilly whispers. He swings into my peripheral view. "If you don't do something, that Psion is going to have every Cabal in the sector on us!"
Qinziq surfaces from the hatch and kneels beside us. "This is Yirix, Ghost. She will not reveal us."
She's Red Legion. Calus would see her executed.
Psions fly many colors, but within the Cabal, we exist in congress, moving toward our own future. She will recognize my contribution, as I hers, Qinziq says, stepping forward.
Gilly watches Qinziq approach the other Psion. "If this sours, don't give it the chance."
His words cinch around my lungs. Short breaths of wary anticipation escape. I sight my long gun and wait.
Yirix stiffens as she becomes aware of Qinziq. She turns. They bow their heads together. The two empathize and come to one understanding in silence.
Whatever ambitions they have go further than this ship, this moment, this Cabal. I hadn't thought that way since I last wore the veneer of a Guardian. Sold a dream of an immortal City shielded by Light, as if it could go on forever. Forever is just a hope folks don't live long enough to see crumble.
Yirix looks to Gilly and me, to my rifle, unthreatened. I feel her request for temperance and a tranquil reassurance of their cause. For a moment, I feel young. I stand.
We warm the launch engines as Yirix slips away to join the throng and let us be.
Bahto materializes onto the bridge out of transmat and out of breath. He manages a few prideful words, "Charges set. We will not be tracked."
The Glykon breaks atmosphere as a colossal explosion rocks the shipyard and shutters through our hull. Flames spit across the distant yard below, spreading into a bonfire of heirlooms. Bahto called it "the spark that burns the past to fuel the future."
Better than the other way around.
THROUGH THE EYES OF KATABASIS…
Blood meets a slurry of oil and dark Ether draining into runoff vents in the cabin floor. I sit. A savage din echoes through the harvester craft. I can hear them in the war beast pens below deck. Gnashing teeth maddeningly chewing through restraints. The wet slaps of their bodies battering the walls.
Bahto boards the harvester under a hail of tiny stones. "The hold is secured, and casualties collected." He shuts the bay to the Reef-storm behind him.
How many? I ask, noticing the two of us are alone.
He mistakes concern for weakness. "We will be ready for tomorrow's harvest."
I shift the question. "How many more of these things does Qinziq want?"
Two days of harvest before leaving the Shore.
She tell you what for?
No more than you.
Following blind orders something that sits well with you?
Qinziq does not answer to you, Lightbearer.
So I've heard. More than once.
My father spoke like you. Questioned, Bahto grumbles, laying down his gear. "He abandoned Calus to join Ghaul's coup. Disgraced our bloodline. I threw off my father's shackles and pledged my life to the emperor. I was shown mercy. Soon I will reclaim the clout of my line and the right to sire. Loyalty is not blindness. Loyalty is rewarded."
Sounds like he turned away from a losing battle to one he thought he could win.
He left when hope seemed small, before he could see victory through. Bahto pauses, pensive. "Calus will expose the secrets of the Darkness and use them to reclaim Torobatl. It will be."
__________________________________________________________________________________________________
Qinziq blocks the entrance into her lab. It had been hastily transferred from Leviathan to Glykon after our procurement of the ship; all manner of vicious-looking machinery. She raises a finger to my face. Her language restructures in my mind. "You do not belong here."
I need to know exactly what you're using them for.
Why? They are animals. Our beasts of burden.
I ponder the ethics. They used to be something else, a deadened part buried and ignored… but…
Such concern for a Hunter.
She meant to pin me to Cayde. "Ain't any different from defiling a corpse. You people honor your dead, don't you?"
'I do not answer to you,' Qinziq seethes into my mind. She brushes me away and moves to shut the door.
Bahto does. His soldiers do. Do you want to politely ask the Scorn into confinement, or do you want to be straight with me?
She scowls at me. "Where is your Ghost?"
Hangar maintenance…
Come, Qinziq says, leading me inside the lab to a bundle of large vats adorned with all manner of pumps and wiring. "This…" she slides a viewing port open on the front-most vat.
Rabid Scorn eyes lock with mine through the view port. Dark fluid roils as the creature flails and fumes muted shrieks into the liquid.
Natural connection to Darkness made stronger. Their minds, linked like ours, but without Barons, there is nothing to fill them.
I watch it claw frantically against the vat wall until I hear the grating tone of bone-raw fingertips digging into the metal.
A touch more violent than I'd expect from a mindless thing, I say.
They subsist off the last thought imposed on them. Kill for Fikrul. For the lost prince. But… Qinziq presses her hand to the tank. She fixates her eye on the Scorn, and it mellows. Her words are strained. "…with effort, their psyche is a vessel. Through which many expressions can… commune." She releases the Scorn, exhausted, and it drowns again; eyes shrieking terror. "Too many for this one to inhabit."
How does that help us?
Calus will draw the Darkness into them, and we will squeeze from them all they know.
How? I insist.
When we arrive at the anomaly, you will see.
THROUGH THE EYES OF AN EMPTY VESSEL…
Dormant. Bound.
#WERT!
Threat.
Storm outside.
Rain soft thirst.
Flashes show shapes.
Shapes I know.
Gentle whispers reach from me.
To all.
As Father, as Fikrul.
Barons. Kells.
Gone.
Another voice…
Pressing.
Fear and Confusion.
No.
The mind beneath this one screams to the surface.
Nothing, Scorn, a Son… Fallen… Eliksni…King…
Akriis does not bow.
Arise, commands the voice buried in whispers.
Akriis does not bow, but Akriis is dead.
Peeled away.
__________________________________________________________________________________________________
The spine of the Glykon breaks, its vertebrae now interchanging.
Scorn howl to herald the crossing into Nothing.
Through the Locus, they hear the whispers and obey:
Meet Salvation.
FRENETIC SCRAWL INKED IN THE MARGIN READS: There's a scanner array off the hull near the hangar. I patched a line through to it to check Qinziq's feed. Needed somewhere to listen.
THROUGH THE EYES OF KATABASIS…
Restless sleep plagued by the nightmare.
I am in the streets when the sirens start.
I lay watching the Traveler for a long time. Disbelief. The gap in thought of a semiautomatic mind.
Red Legion sweeps. I see their harrowing fusillades tear annihilation through the Tower.
Everyone is standing but me.
Debris falling. I am separated. I reach for Gilgamesh and he is gone.
The cage chokes our Light.
Fire chases me from street to street. No Light. No ammunition. The City is burning.
Faceless zephyrs screaming to me beneath a pitiless god. Red-plated death lines the walls, and
The City is burning.
I flee. I flee. I flee. I flee. I flee… my steps weighted down by guilt.
The City is burning and you did nothing.
.
Gil's broken star finds my shame.
There is only us, forging survival.
Together we crawl to exile.
FRENETIC SCRAWL INKED IN THE MARGIN READS: Nightmare's back. Took months, but it always comes back—in force this time. Every night since we took on our cargo, they've been howling. I swear they're three decks down, but you can still hear 'em. Gil's been wandering the ship more.
Time to start making go bags. Think I'll carve out a spot near the hangar… opposite side from Qinziq's lab. Place is swarming now.
THROUGH THE EYES OF KATABASIS…
Six hard weeks in the Reef. Scorn, Hive, and horrors enough. I still prefer the open Shore to the Glykon, but it's earning its keep. We crossed the belt and anchored our gravity off Phobos: an old Cabal base still holding an operational tether. I volunteered to clear the base of Taken. Get out a bit. Didn't even get a fireteam together before we realized the damn things were docile.
Against the anomaly, our little serpent ship was a worm, a speck, like a distant star you squish between your fingers. The bottomless pit where Mars used to be fills every starboard porthole. Crew stand in the viewing chamber for hours. Some get dragged out. The immensity of it, a planet-wide fathom of hissing dark… boundless, and us: planted on the edge of reason… It defies you.
Calus docked with us yesterday, his Scribe not but two steps behind him. Perused the stock. Picked out the first one for what they're calling communion.
They brought something on board. Scorn haven't shut up since. Qinziq is getting it ready in the viewing chamber.
Gilly's eyeing it too; looking through portholes. I hear him at night, whispering:
It's the same… all the way through. You were right, Katabasis: it's all just a cage, a prison, but so much bigger than we thought.
What are we doing here?
FRENETIC SCRAWL INKED IN THE MARGIN READS: You can rest midway above the turbine grinder. The noise covers your moments.
THROUGH THE EYES OF CALUS THE CACOETHES…
A crowd has gathered to stand with me, their emperor, soon to be so much more. Amsot spread word of my arrival, and they clamored to be first in my presence in the viewing chamber. I spot the Guardian and his little Light as well—an extra morsel of bait. The Ghost watches while the Guardian resigns to the rear. Pity.
All come to view the zenith of my labors. I am omnipresent. Every angle that can be seen is seen by statues at every corner. My plated carriage monitors the Crown for aberrations. It is adorned with gold from the Castellum for my viewing. I paid many lives to pry it free from Hive clutches, but it bent most agreeably… its ability to bridge minds… and bring them to submit. I see my tributes, Scorn gibbering nonsense in unison, lashed and plugged to the Crown—a thorn made tool in my brilliance. My daring Councilors anchor their psyches and prepare to begin the communion. Greatness is before us.
These watchers: I shall thrill them.
I clap four monumental pairs of hands. "Let it… begin."
I turn all my gaze to the chamber's expansive viewing window as shutters unveil the grave of Mars. Tendrilic bands of phasing Darkness spiral from the anomaly's core, enrapturing all of me… beckoning into the depth of its core with whispers like hooks through nervous flesh. I gape into the stimulating writhe. "Yes…"
My Councilors place their hands on the Crown and focus cognition through it. They pry open the Scorn's collective synaptic pathways and sew them into the fabric of the anomaly's memetic sphere. The Glykon strains against the pull.
Velocity surges forward to the anomaly; the surrounding reality tears away. We hold, suspended before the writhe. It fills all sight; Nothing just beyond the bend. Time ceases, and the cosmos arcs to accommodate my will. Now.
Delight in me. I emulated all of me in your image; stretched my mind to live through so many… I reaped the pleasures and experiences of every vessel. But despite my sundry perspectives, I still only see through my own eyes—and I want more. I peer into the Dark nothing. "You are… oblivion. Not a destruction, but a melding of all that has come to pass. I wish to become as you are. To gorge on existence. To collect your promise to elevate me." My laughter is wild. All of my forms transfix on the swirling anomaly. "LOOK UPON ME!"
The cosmos bends and snaps as I stand, returned to my feeble reality. Ignored again. The Scorn shriek nonsense in unison. It drowns out of the whispers. It is all any of me can hear.
I reach out, as you showed me when last we met. I split open each Scorn mind from my carriage, searching for you. Nothing. Every time. So I tear open their bodies. Fitfully pulling limb from socket, mind from skull, scouring them for your presence. I search until the shrieking can only be heard from distant pens.
I meet the eyes of each crew member who would not look away. In them, I see it. You. Peering back from behind the tension: An Observer.
FRENETIC SCRAWL INKED IN THE MARGIN READS: Dug out a spot under the refuse pit. It's still running, so be quick.
This page is blighted with mold and the imprint of a memory…
The words seep experience into your open mind…
THROUGH THE EYES OF KATABASIS…
Calus's tomb-carriage overlooks the viewing chamber once again. All his forms stand around a garish mass of metal and apprehension: the crown, as he called it. Fewer crew members attend this communion after so many failed attempts. Gilly and I stand above a host of chattering carcasses. Plugs can cables run from them into the flesh of an Ether-logged Scorn beneath an ugly crown. The gold from the Castellum is flush with tarnish, stemming from some kind of lichen that had burrowed its way into the precious metal adornments since the last communion attempt.
I thought gold doesn't stain, I say to Gilly. "It's an expression of purity."
Like the Light?
Mm, I grunt. Gilly fixates on the crown, on the viewing window and the depth beyond.
Bahto takes the spot next to me and leans against the railing. "Are all Guardians ruled by uncertainty?"
Councilors approach the crown.
Bahto, in my experience, people who are too sure of themselves tend to die. The Councilors place their hands to the crown, and suddenly, I am greatly aware of this room's stillness. Our tilt.
Bahto raises his voice over the intensifying chatter. "Your Ghost speaks to the Scorn, as much as they can."
Curious, that's all. Looking for an angle, something we can use. Ain't that right, Gilly? I ask, trying to hide my suspicion.
Gilgamesh says nothing, iris frozen ahead as the viewing curtain completes its retraction.
Velocity surges forward to the anomaly, tearing away the surrounding reality. The sound of Calus's feverish multi-fold laughter drowns the hull's groans for mercy. It's different this time, not a passage. It's a wall. We crash hard—but not all at once. It's a steady tumbling impact. Always down. The cosmic bands bend around us and shutter as they're drawn into thin bright needles of diminishing relevance. Peripheral obliteration mainlined and burnt through. The space between each needle of light expands until. It. IS.
The transition is like a reluctant membrane; a depth of souls frozen over and wailing. The ice grinds against itself at the ecliptic barrier between form and expression.
We cross: sunless. Adrift on empty currents with no direction.
Where's the emperor?
THROUGH THE EYES OF KATABASIS…
Weeks bleed away.
Where is your Ghost? Bahto grunts as he throws a crushed Scorn into a tangle of festering dark tendrils. These fungal growths had grown across the Glykon during the timeless expanse since their plunge, and only continued to spread.
I don't know, I sputter as I pull a ragged blade from my gut. "Off fraternizing somewhere."
I'm here. What do you need? Gilly says, appearing.
Fewer holes, I groan.
Bahto looks to the three Scorn that had ambushed us, now returned to the grave. "The rest will feel their deaths. How much farther?"
Assuming the ship hasn't shifted again, not far once this one gets up. Gilly gestures to me. "Is Qinziq certain severing the crown will send us back?"
It'll work. We better not have dug up this command key for nothing, I reply, holding up an Imperial security key.
You said it was to stop the Scorn! Bahto roars.
Stopping them doesn't matter if we don't get out.
I pledged my life to Calus, and you want me to forsake him! He towers over me.
I know a thing or two about abandonment. He used you to get what he wanted, just like he used me. He's gone, Bahto, and we're close to follow. Where does that leave your bloodline?
I stand as a wave wracks the Glykon. It isn't something you see, more like a lightbulb bursting. A long blink before the pins and shivers wash over. Numb. I can hear it moving through the ship like cold metal tension.
The three Scorn snap and contort in grotesque reanimation.
You're welcome to stay, skull-cracker.
__________________________________________________________________________________________________
We make it to the ship's bridge, howls tracking us down every hall. I seal the door with the command key and meet Qinziq beneath the command console at the entrance to the viewing chamber. She stands, encircled by 15 loyalist soldiers.
This is everyone? I ask.
Qinziq nods. I insert the command key into the viewing chamber door. After a moment, pistons disengage, and the door opens. Qinziq focuses for a moment. "Empty…" her voice rings from her.
We enter the viewing chamber. The soldiers take up positions around the room. Bahto strides past the Darkness-infested crown and drops to his knees at the open viewing window.
He stares into the endless. "How do we choose who deserves our loyalty?"
I walk to his side. "Everyone's got their own way. No one's right. You don't owe anyone anything, Bahto."
Qinziq signals that she is ready. As I approach the crown, I watch her eye trace the scorched handprints of each Councilor that last communed here.
Shrieks echo down the steps leading to the bridge. Metallic scraping heralds the flame.
I will do this so that others may live, Qinziq's voice flows. "I did not intend suffering but should have expected Calus's deceit. Ambition to steal away his secrets damned us all."
Get us out and we're square.
She plants her next words into my mind: 'I will, because you do not belong here.' She places her palms on the crown.
Velocity surges backward into infinity, tearing away the surrounding reality. We stand in nothing, 17 defenders back to back around Qinziq and the crown. The shrieks grow louder, and through the whines of bending steel, the trembling flesh of Scorn pour into the nothing with us.
Slug Rifles unleash a salvo in all directions from behind a handful of Phalanx shields, tearing line after line of Scorn down with explosive force. Incendiors step forward to cremate the remains between volleys. I add my gun to line, dropping Raiders before they can align shots on our ring and slinging Voidwall grenades to stem the flood. Qinziq screams, straining to sever the link as the Glykon thrashes against Dark waves. Black fire scalds her hands as Nothing twists around us. We fight until the floor is lined with dead Scorn and empty magazines.
The shrieking recedes. Scraping metal echoes through the viewing chambers as a wave of Darkness tremors through the Glykon. Every unburnt Scorn seizes and begins to reconstitute. Soldiers panic and fire into heaps of writhing bodies, hoping to stop the process.
In the chaos, lightning rips through the air, cutting through three Legionaries and rupturing an Incendior tank. The blast kills seven; the circle tightens. We return fire in the direction of the lightning and are met with two fetid Abominations. They burst into the chamber and rear back with crackling fists. I charge one, slipping into the Void to draw blades from its sheath. Bahto snatches a Phalanx shield resting at his feet and challenges the other. Its bolts break on the shield. Our remaining guns harry them with slug-fire until we close the gap. I cut through hands and head, then pivot to see Bahto driving his shield into the other's face.
Qinziq cries out. I spin on my heel to see her engulfed in black flame and the cosmos racing around us. She spreads her pain to us to hold on a few moments longer, to no avail.
I look back to Bahto. Deeper past him, in the nothing, to the hulking silhouette dragging a flaming censer and I know: this is where we die.
THROUGH THE EYES OF KATABASIS…
It didn't work. Truth be told, I have no way of knowing if Qinziq even finished what she was doing. Gilly said it took days to find a safe place to bring me back. The big one they all follow was hunting for him.
I make a task of committing the Cabal bodies to burial. The costs are heavy, and I don't get everyone.
We try to keep hidden, using the smuggler's hovels where I stashed go bags across the ship.
All it takes is one of them seeing you.
Been keeping track for what I think is a month… three months. The waves are random. When one hits, it rearranges pieces of the ship, and I have to find my way again.
Gilgamesh is becoming more distant. Talking less. He wanders off for days at a time. So far, he always comes back.
When I die, I dream of a City burning. Death dreams are a first. When I wake up, I don't know how long it's been. Gilly… won't say.
There have been a hundred lives between this and the last one I remember.
I live in a charnel house.
__________________________________________________________________________________________________
I'm alive. And old.
Get up. Gilly's voice is thin.
Why? There's nothing to do but starve.
Giving up again? You'd rather I just left you here?
I roll myself to face him. "I'm not giving up. Just… take my Light and hold it until… until there's a way out."
You know, I used to think we were the way out—us, together. But we're just stuck in another cycle.
There's nothing to eat, Gil. You don't feel that emptiness chewing at you. Promise you'll leave me be until we're out.
Gilgamesh looks at me for a long time without speaking. I close my eyes.
THROUGH THE EYES OF GILGAMESH…
I linger on the corpse of my once-Guardian. I've hidden his shame for so long. I believed it was my obligation, to be the warmth when his fire died… but now, I see that obligation was a leash to keep me tied to life. It is a cold, coiled, choking reality, and I will hang gasping from it no more.
See the truth, the whispers had offered. I saw it in every moment suffered aboard this vessel. A microcosm of violence extrapolated to the world beyond, with only one escape. Soon Katabasis would know it too.
Scorn onlookers surround us.
I raise Katabasis.
Gilly… Katabasis kneels before me, his rifle beside him. "What is this?"
A way out. I won't carry you anymore.
You're… abandoning me? Katabasis looks to the Scorn, his rifle, his Ghost—no. No longer. Not his, not the Traveler's, not anyone's.
I sacrificed everything to keep you moving forward. Guided you to every power you needed to survive. I share the truth he wants to forget. "And for what? It never ends anything. There's always more."
The Scorn encroach across disjointed walkways. Katabasis sinks. "You said you wouldn't…"
You, the Traveler. You've kept me trapped in this death knell. Now it's time to set us free.
What does that mean? His words like stone weights.
Sever our Light, or they'll rip you apart for a thousand lives. I gesture to the Scorn.
You wouldn't.
Your deaths are heavy, Katabasis, but I'll bring you back as many times as it takes for you to learn. He does not understand. "You think I don't feel pain? You think I don't suffer while you're hiding in your limbo?"
Katabasis lurches forward. "I did everything YOU asked me to."
YOU LEFT! I shout. "You left me here. You left me in the City. Made me turn away from the Traveler. We're like the Scorn in those tanks, drowning in panic… confusion… forever. You did that."
The City was burning, and I wanted to live. Everything was… so we could live.
He still didn't see it. This place is no different than Sol. A barrel of blood. There's no reason to go back. "Now the Light is burning."
We can survive this. Katabasis holds out his palm for me. "Please?"
I don't want survival, Katabasis. I drift away from him. "I want salvation."
…It got to you, Katabasis sobs weakly, his epiphany complete.
You can end this, for both of us. It's your turn to sacrifice, I offer.
Everything you say is a lie! Katabasis grasps for his rifle.
Lever-to-action.
Shot to nothingness.
Ghost to dead memory.

Hunter or Huntress Chapter 70: Well This Is Awkward

Well well, if it isn't chapter 70 I spy with on the horizon. Let's see if this one can manage to follow up after the last chapter. I have certainly given it my best shot. TwoFlower has once again done a brilliant piece of work going through it all to ensure maximum reading pleasure on your part.
With that, I say we get on with the show.
ko-fi For having a pretty picture commissioned.
Sapphire
First Previous Next
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Chapter 70: Well This Is Awkward
“What’s that supposed to mean? Miss out on my company?” Tom went as soon as Jackalope was airborne and out of listening range.
“Oh come on, she didn't even leave you in the tree. Figure it out”
“She fell asleep” Fengi did seem to struggle with that prospect.
“Well, she certainly feels safe around you then” She finally piped up. Tom had to give her points for that one. Even if he was fairly certain Jackalope could sleep in the maw of a dragon as long as she was semi-confident of not becoming a snack.
The two of them took off running with him dangling beneath her as they got airborne. It was almost routine by now. “What about you, got anyone you fancy?”
“Careful now I think my hand is slipping”
“Oh come on. Unkai is crazy for you that’s for sure.”
“That he is.” She just answered plainly. ‘Uff buddy,’ Tom thought to himself, still, a promise was a promise.
“Well, what’s wrong with him? He’s kind, steadfast, a healer…"
“And boring. Honestly, the amount of times he has called my eyes beautiful is absurd. He can’t even dance” ‘Well, shit.’ Tom thought to himself. Could he fix that… should he try? He couldn’t dance for shit either. At least not sober… “What are you plotting down there? Wait he put you up to this didn't he!?”
“Uhmm” Fengi just let out a deep sigh.
“He just never gives up” She sounded a tad defeated.
“You can’t fault him for trying.” Could she? Apparently, she could, since her tone changed to one of disinterest.
“Oh no, here comes your ride” True enough Jackalope came up from behind settling beneath them, Tom was placed on her back gently as ever. “Hey Jackalope, he loves you” She went as she let go and pulled up.
Jackalope went stiff at that comment. The awkward silence ruled for an uncomfortably long while, Tom sure as shit didn't want to break it given his current position. Of all the places he could be right now he was lying on top of her… and couldn't get off. ‘Damn you Fengi’
“She’s taking the piss right?” Jackalope finally went, Tom really struggled to figure out if that was her joking tone or if there was a hint of hope in there. If so she was trying to hide it. Her confidence didn’t seem to have taken a hit though. ‘okay could be worse could be worse’ he thought to himself.
“Uhmm... Well, I asked about her and Unkai, she apparently didn’t like that and decided payback was in order, you know how it is” That wasn’t false, he just hoped Jackalope’s feelings were as tough as the rest of her. Besides, every dragonette who had seen him described him as hideous and he was fairly sure his personality wasn't that good.
“Right, of course” Her demeanor didn’t seem to shift at all, he had kinda expected her to be either relieved or sad at that answer. The awkward silence reigned once again. Tom looked to Jarix, searching for something to do right now. The young dragon was almost up to the treetops, but clearly working hard climbing slowly. Crucially he wasn’t there yet.
“It’s Sapphire isn't it?” Jackalope finally went in a dejected tone. Oh yeah, he had hurt her feelings alright… goddammit “Just admit it and be done with it. I know you like her.” What had he done to deserve being in this situation he wondered. His instincts wanted to try and make a joke to get out of this, or just run. Probably not smart though, all things considered. That meant talking his way out.
“No no, Sapphire is a good friend, we’ve spent a lot of time together and all that, not that we haven't. Obviously.” He did his best to sound convincing, patting her on the shoulder. It really didn’t help that he had no clue what he wanted to do right now though. Should he just try damage control? He had already pretty much agreed to ask Jackalope out or whatever their equivalent was around here.
“Oh come on, I’ve heard how they talk about her, she’s a damn prize. You’d be an idiot not to want her.” Now she sounded genuinely hurt.
Sapphire might be good looking, but so was Jackalope, hell all of the huntresses were borderline eye candy and she was quite a lot more fun. Not to mention she could toss him around like a doll and likely crush his skull between her thighs. And what kind of man doesn't like a woman that’s into guns and explosions. Fuck it, he liked her a lot, she was awesome!
“Hey Jacky,” Tom grabbed one of her horns and turned her head around so she faced him.
“What are you doing? Leave me alone.” She went annoyedly at her head being jerked around like that. He even spotted a tear in her eye.
She did shut up when he did his best to kiss that still slightly burned snout of hers though. It was most definitely an awkward kiss and it didn’t help that she clearly had no clue it was coming.
“What the fuck dude!?” Okay, maybe that was too forward then. “I ain't dying!”
“Uhhhh, what?” Perhaps he had misjudged the situation more severely than he had anticipated.
“You did that with Dakota, well I ain't dying on you.” Her voice was downright quivering. “I’m not some weakling or a kid for that matter. Just give me a moment okay.”
“Uhm that was a kiss Jacky, not mouth to mouth,” Tom tried, he was in deep water right now or high skies more accurately. She turned back to look at him, oh she had tears in her eyes alright, he had never seen that with her. The expression did seem to switch a bit though as she stared at him.
Tom could literally see the gears turning in her head, as they slowly clicked into place. “Wait, is that like an affection thing?” She finally went. ‘of course it is dummy, that couldn’t be hard to figure out… Wait, they didn’t kiss?’
That did stump him quite considerably. Thinking back he had only seen them do that rubbing snouts thing like birds do. That did look rather funny, actually. She did seem to figure it out though as her eyes lit up.
“Really? I mean I know I’m awesome and all” Now there was the Jackalope he knew and loved. Straight to bragging. “Not like Sapphire could have taken you through that storm after all.”
“Or been that much fun at the lake” he retorted.
“Yeah I am pretty great aren’t I?” She turned back to look ahead, she looked very content though. He guessed mission success then. He just sighed a sigh of relief that he wasn’t gonna need the parachute.
“Humble too,” He added sarcastically. Jackalope nodded at that still beaming with pride, until she realized the sarcasm at least, then she scowled back at him. That was just too much for Tom as he broke out laughing at her expense.
Tom knew Fengi was overhead, though he hadn’t heard any snarky comments from up there. He just hoped that wasn't another shit show to deal with. He couldn’t worry about everything and right now, he was going to enjoy the ride as he embraced Jackalope, nuzzling his head against her neck. This was nice.
They didn’t say anything as Jackaople turned at a leisurely pace following Jarix. She fell back a fair distance though, Tom guessed she wanted a modicum of privacy.
“Tom I wanna ask a favor” She went after a bit.
“Uhm, sure thing” He really hoped she didn’t just want something that went boom really loud. Though it was a distinct possibility.
“Would you mind pinching me?”
“Sure” He did so, grabbing a hold of the thick leathery skin on the side of her neck and gave it a bit of a pinch.
“Well, it hurts a bit so I guess I ain't dreaming right now… That thing you did what does that mean… exactly?” She sounded very pointed on that last part, to Tom s ears.
“Well... That you really like someone”
“How much exactly.” It would appear the usual confidence had vanished completely then.
“Jackalope I love you” he finally admitted, surely that wasn’t open for interpretation
“Wuhuu” Jackalope went rolling over onto her back pulling up hard launching into a very characteristic set of slightly insane maneuvers. Tom just did his best to hang on as he got the goggles on. That response certainly wasn’t open for interpretation.
When she finally calmed down enough to fly level she was already panting even her breathing sounded excited though. Fengi predictably came down alongside. Tom really hoped he wasn’t about to fend off a verbal assault from her.
“I told you he liked you, but no no. I must be crazy you wanted Esmeralda to let you know, cause she would know for sure.” Fengi went, snarky sarcasm off the chart.
“I know I’m sorry, I just didn’t believe it” her head snapped back around to look at him. “You aren't joking right?” Tom got the feeling if he said yes, he was gonna need the parachute, as a best-case scenario.
He just kissed her again. She turned to look at Fengi mouth agape, beaming with happiness. Goddammit, she was hilarious. He turned to look at the grinning Fengi who was following along, he had been played at his own game. In fairness, they did seem a lot better at this than him.
“Well, that does make it hard to keep my promise to Unkai.”
“And what would that be?” Fengi asked, rolling her eyes, still smiling though.
“That if he dared to treat you like a person and ask you properly I would ask Jackalope”
“Sorry for ruining the surprise. Can’t wait for the first part, but could you at least try and make him a bit more interesting.” Fengi replied clearly not thrilled by the prospect.
Tom pondered that one for a bit. How do you make a person interesting? Fuck it why not he had kinda already started and today was going very well so far.
“Sure I’ll try.”
__________________________________________________________________________________
“Chug, Chug, Chug, Chug” The chorus rang out as Sapphire's next unsuspecting target lost his round of darts against her. It was almost easy enough to make it boring. She did throw a shot every now and again, just enough to give him hope.
“Well, it’s official we have a new champion.” The barkeep shouted out, eliciting cheers all around. Sapphire was fairly sure he was called Reiker, everyone just seemed to call him Barkeep though and she was too drunk to care.
There were a fair few people in here and she hadn’t had to buy a drink yet. All in all this was turning into an excellent evening. Maiko had left before dinner to report where they had ended up though Tirox, Canabrera, and Udanti had shown up, claiming they had nothing better to do with the evening.
Her brother Haiko had managed to snake his way out of guard duty for the night so they could have a proper reunion. She walked back over to their table fresh drink in hand from her victory and sat down at the crowded table.
“You're a dirty cheat, you know that right,” Haiko went, laughing as she sat down.
“No no, you misunderstand. I’m very poor and need the drinks covered” She was slurring a bit and giggling profusely.
“If she can hit in that condition I say it’s more than fair” Udanti defended her.
“Thank you, see she gets it”
“To the poor huntress then, with her silver crown” Oh that was right, she had been a copper last she was here, silly Sapphire. They raised their mugs in a toast. “Till the boards do we met” cheered, echoed by the rest of them “Till the boards do we met”
Taking a good swig before putting the mug back down, Sapphire took off her crown and put it on Haiko. “There we go, a huntress just like Tom”
"Don't forget the jewelry” Dakota added laughing.
“And a damn handsome one at that” Haiko went, getting up and posing for them.
Balethon was practically in Canabrera’s lap and since he was still there, Sapphire guessed she didn’t have to worry about him for the evening, either. All in all, this was going marvelously.
“Wait you made that guy a huntress?” Triox questioned incredulously.
“But he is so damn ugly”
“No, he isn't” Sapphire protested “He’s just very weird looking”
“I really wanted to touch him, but was afraid he was gonna take my head off” Canabrera added, nuzzling Baltheon.
“I can report his skin is very soft, very warm, and wet when he has been working hard” Dakota went, their fearless leader seemingly also having gotten a bit of a buzz on.
“Yeah he’s like a big hot water bottle” Sapphire added in, it was true too.
“Come on, his face looks like it has been smashed in or something, and his teeth look like a deer’s” Tirox, clearly hadn’t been convinced by their persuasive arguments.
“Well, he isn’t a dragonette now is he?” Dakota clarified for him.
“No, he’s exotic”
“And he’s got a winning personality” Dakota let out pounding the table laughing. They all had a good laugh at that.
Sapphire turned to Haiko snatching back her crown. “Anyone else come through besides Viper and me?”
“Oh yeah, mother was here last fall, along with a few faces from the keep. The year before that, Palak and Rosey came by” That stung a little, hearing of her littermates having been here. It had been so long since she had seen any of them.
“Why you are just living the dream aren’t you? Getting to see the old gang now and again”
“Hay I ain't the one living the life of adventure, it’s mostly just standing outside trying to look welcoming yet intimidating.”
“You, intimidating!” Sapphire had to laugh at that, her big brother was many things but scary certainly wasn’t one of them. “You couldn’t hurt a mouse if it ate your breakfast”
“Hey, just because I ain't a bloodthirsty killer like you doesn't mean I'm soft.”
“Didn’t you once spend half your shift with an orphan girl on your arm, telling her stories… you even fed her didn’t you?” The barkeep spoke up clearly taking the piss.
“Being kind doesn’t make you soft either”
“I can be kind too” Sapphire protested,
“How? When you demolish the competition less thoroughly?” Dakota went chuckling. Sapphire had a comeback for that but saying it wouldn’t be very kind now would it, miss I’m so miserable I can’t get out of bed.
They had continued well into the darkness until finally, Balethon collected the courage to ask Canabrera up to his room. Honestly, it was almost like he became timid when drunk rather than the usual opposite. Haiko invited them to come see his apartment sometime when he wasn’t on duty, then made his excuses. Tirox and Udanti bade them good night and made for the free traders guild. Sapphire just hoped they were better at finding their way around here than her and Dakota. The two drunken huntresses staggered up the stairs arm in arm, to call it a night.
“Well, I would call that a good start to proceedings” Dakota went as they entered the room.
“Best first day ever, got to see the training fields from dragon back, and actually feel welcome, meet my brother, had a good night drinking. I could get used to this”
“Yeah, well don’t. It’s not all going to be a pleasant breeze. Let’s get some sleep”
“Fine, ohh fearless leader”
“Oh shut it”
The two of them woke the next morning to the sound of someone pounding on their door. Sapphire got up, still a little unsteady on her feet, the buzz not quite having worn off yet to go answer it. She opened the door a twinge, peering through the crack to see who it was.
“Good morning, why?” She just asked, at the rather official-looking individual standing outside.
“Good heavens” He exclaimed “Uhm are you by any chance Dakota Bizmati?”
“No I’m Sapphire Dakota is sleeping”
“Oh right, sorry, may I come in? Are you dressed?”
“No, and uhm No not really”
“Well would you mind, I will be waiting in the meantime”
“Okay just a sec”
“What is a sec?” Sapphire sighed internally, she really needed to not use Tom phrases here, they were just so good through.
“Get up Dakota, we got a visitor”
“Tell him to go away, I need my beauty sleep” Dakota protested.
“Come on, he looks important, get dressed”
“Ugh, fine!”
It took them a bit to get to a presentable state but eventually, they opened the door. The man outside averted his gaze for a second before realizing they were properly dressed by now. Honestly, did he think they were so drunk they couldn't put on clothes?
“Ahr, good I think I failed to introduce myself earlier. I’m Theodor, pleasure to meet you” He extended his hand and the two of them shook it curiously. ‘what’s this all about?’ Sapphire wondered. “I’m here to inform you that his royal highness king Lucius the seventh requests your presence at the day's council meeting. Proceedings will begin following lunch. I was informed there were three of you though?
“Balethon is next door” Sapphire responded, stiff as a plank. ‘What the fuck!’
“Do try and make yourself presentable, it’s my understanding that you won’t necessarily be speaking before the king, but still” His face was one of clear disapproval as he looked them over.
Sapphire couldn’t help but feel a little ashamed. She didn’t even have her armor on right now and she was speaking to a representative of the king. She turned to look at Dakota who was just staring at the little man, mouth hanging slightly open expression one of horror. She did eventually snap back into reality.
“Of course, we shall do our best. In the future maybe a little more warning?” She asked, switching to a pained expression on her face.
“Yes, I can see that. I trust you know how to find the palace?” Yeah, Sapphire could understand the low opinion right about now.
“Certainly, you just caught us at a bad time”
“Very good don’t be late, oh, and here are your papers to get you in.” The man gave a polite if slightly pained smile handing over three small scrolls and turned to leave in a slight hurry.
Once he was gone the two of them turned to each other. “We're going to go see the king. and the council… while drunk!” Dakota let out, somewhere between ecstatic and horrified. Sapphire honestly didn't know what to make of this situation. She had never even been up to the top of the cliff, let alone inside the royal palace. She knew Dakota had been there once when she was a little girl.
“We need to get Balethon up” Sapphire stated. The two of them rushed over and started pounding frantically on the door, eventually, a very sleepy-looking Canabrera open staring at them with a distinctly unamused expression.
“What?”
“Get the dude up, he needs to go see the king!” Sapphire exclaimed. Canabrera just looked at them for a second before breaking out laughing.
“I gotta say you do have a sense for humor, sorry about calling you a bit dry last night.”
“We aren’t joking” Dakota went holding up the three scrolls. “Get him up now!” Canabrera’s expression turned to one incredulousness.
“Right of course… Right away.” She shut the door, but it was clear there was frantic activity inside. “Get up you lazy dog, get up!”
The inn did have bathing facilities so they did their best to freshen up as much as possible a few of the staff kindly helping polish what parts of their equipment they had time for.
“What the fuck did you do to get summoned to a council meeting?"
“We have no idea!” Sapphire replied exasperatedly, adjusting her crown and earrings. She was damn grateful she had gotten that full bath yesterday, she just prayed you couldn’t smell the beer on her from last night.
“That’s as good as I can get it” Lola replied, the sweet young maid having done her best with Sapphire's necklace.
“Thank you all so much” Sapphire replied, taking the necklace, they were out of time though. Not looking your absolute best was one thing but being late was an entirely different level of bad when it came to something like this. “We need to get moving"
“Yes, let's go” Dakota echoed, voice stern.
__________________________________________________________________________________
ko-fi For having a pretty picture commissioned.
First Previous Next
So then, it would appear Jackalope managed to find her soft side then. If only Sapphire's situation was as enjoyable right now. I do hope you liked the chapter and where the story is going thus far.
Until next time I wish you all an awesome day.

My thoughts on Intel - $INTC

Before you start this is not a DD, I haven't gone through financials, it's more of an overall opinion coming from a computer enthusiast on why I think Intel could be interesting and it's worth adding on a watchlist.
I'm posting this so I can get opinions from you guys about what I'm right or wrong about.
And for full disclosure even though I don't think it's relevant due to the size I'm gonna mention it anyway: I do technically own some INTC but it's only 2 shares, yes 2 shares.
So as of now while I may add a position in the future, this could go to zero or do a 100x and it wouldn't really affect me or my judgment in anyway. I may actually get a real position on Intel but as of now I'm just keeping it on my watchlist, I want to see how the new CEO is gonna handle it first.
-----------------------------------

Cons

Before we talk about the pros of Intel I really think we should discuss the cons, since INTC has many, I’m gonna list them first then address each one:
- Management
- Production issues
- Competitors
- The x86 architecture is getting old

Management

I think we can all agree management has been a hit or miss at best, while AMD managed to take a company with uncompetitive products to leading player. In the meanwhile Intel has managed to go from its dominant position to a… well… pretentious follower that doesn’t even care its products are being laughed at by enthusiasts.
It’s technically not a complete failure, they did manage to milk the dying cow well enough to grow revenues consistently but this approach couldn’t have kept it alive much longer.

Production issues

Intel has been stubbornly avoiding outsourcing, which is good in theory sadly this didn’t go as planned and they still didn’t scrap the idea as a failure, it just caused delay after delay on products they absolutely needed to stay competitive.

Competitors

If you are thinking AMD, you are wrong, they kept going in alternating cycles forever thinking their duopoly wouldn’t be challenged, the time has finally come.
Apple, while not an actual competitor has shown that what has kept the two companies on top is starting to get less competitive and it’s not the only viable solution for the desktop market anymore. Apple may have just scratched them but now the blood is in the water and the sharks are smelling that.

The x86 architecture is getting old

We have finally arrived to the real threat to Intel survival, their beloved x86 architecture, licensed only to their frenemy AMD.
The crown jewel of Intel is not enough anymore, Moore’s law for Intel does not apply anymore but it does for ARM.
I think it’s important to understand the main difference between x86 and ARM, this is a battle between CISC and RISC. I don’t want to go into the details since things can get complex so let’s make it quick and simple: x86 is a CISC architecture meaning on each chip they pack a lot of instructions so that if you want to perform an operation you need less cycles. ARM approach is different though, ARM is a RISC architecture meaning the chips only contain the strictly necessary and basic instructions, in this case to perform one operation you may need to use more instructions and cycles however it has one big benefit: the chips are much more simple, less complexity = easier production.
ARM requires a lot less power to work and by consequence less heat is required to be dissipated this little detail is what makes a chip with less instructions faster than a chip with more instructions, yes, you may need to use more cycles for your operations but you are able to make the chips run at higher speeds and pack a LOT more cores.

Pros

Finally! We’ve reached the pros, again like the cons I’m gonna list them first, and, you may notice something interesting about them:
- Management
- Brand
- Production issues
- Competitors
- Architecture & support
Yes, they are almost the same, Intel is a weird beast in a fairly complex environment

Management

Not much to say here, #1 problem of Intel has finally been addressed, the CEO is about to be replaced, Swan was a CFO placed into a CEO position, you may be the best CFO of this world but you can’t drive a company like this looking at the checkbooks.
Gelsinger is coming in and his background is pretty promising, like I did in school I’m gonna steal this next section from Wikipedia (thank you Wikipedia):

He previously served as CEO of VMware for a decade, and as president and chief operating officer at EMC. Before joining EMC, he was the first Chief Technology Officer of Intel, previously senior vice president and general manager of the Digital Enterprise Group at Intel, before leaving after working there for more than three decades.[2][3]

Gelsinger was the architect of the original Intel 80486 processor.[2] As CTO of Intel he also launched the conference Intel Developer Forum as a counterpart to Microsoft's WinHEC. In September 2009, he left Intel to join EMC.[5]
In late 2012 some industry analysts named Gelsinger as a possible successor to Steve Ballmer as CEO of Microsoft.[6][7][8]
Intel announced the appointment of Gelsinger as their new CEO on January 13, 2021, effective February 15.[9][1] A letter sent from shareholder and activist investor Dan Loeb of Third Point Management to the board calling on Intel to hire an investment adviser to recuperate the company's lagging market share came before Gelsinger's return.[2]

And he’s not coming alone, a couple of skilled veterans are coming with him.
It’s still too early to judge how this will go, and things will need a few years to play out, R&D does take time, even Su didn’t save AMD in one day.

Brand

While it has fallen out of favor many still prefer to buy Intel just based on the Brand alone.

Production issues

Let’s not beat it around the bush to much, Intel should’ve outsourced production, however IF they could get everything to work properly the pay out will be insanely useful, especially in moments like these, just take a look at TSMC, it just can’t keep up with the demand.
This move can be smart, making your own staff just like Apple has proven comes with nice benefits.
I still think Intel needs to outsource while they keep developing their internal pipeline though.

Competitors

This is tricky, I don’t think it’s actually a pro per se but I’m gonna put it here anyway.
AMD is not really a threat to Intel survival, they want to be dominant but they don’t want to go for the kill.
With the M1 Apple SoCs though ARM chipmakers are smelling blood, however Intel has still time to catch up, the M1 is a great but it really needs macOS to shine, Windows is still not there yet on ARM support.

Architecture & Support

Yes, x86 is showing its age, but is still the only architecture with decent support on Windows, which let’s not forget has basically a monopoly and old software still requires x86 compatibility, Windows emulation of x86 is not up to par with Apple’s
So, while old x86 still has the edge, for now.
BUT I do NOT think x86 is the future, ARM is already a successful, valid and objectively better solution for scalability. Unlike x86 ARM licenses are available with anyone who wants to pay for them so Intel can actually join the game on this.
There is also another road, RISC-V, it’s showing promising results and it’s open source.
Anyone can take RISC-V and develop it without paying any fee.

Edit: as a final note, I'm sorry for the formatting Reddit is not great for text walls and also sorry for possible english mistakes, it's not my first language I'm not too used with posts of this lenght.

why does my crown smell video

You might experience some discomfort after having a crown placed, but after a few weeks, it shouldn’t hurt. Learn about all the possible causes of dental crown tooth pain and how to relieve it. Bad smell or Halitosis usually can originate from an ill fitting dental crown, or a root canal that has gone bad, First depending on the infection, the root canal needs to be redone, and gum treatment plus a new porcelain crown must be redone for the teeth with infection. It is always BEST to save your natural tooth rather than more invasive procedures! Nothing is better than your own tooth in Why is there a bad taste under my crown? Decay is probably taking place under the crown . Worse, since that area is not accessible to a brush or floss, your crown needs to be removed and the decay How to get rid of bad smell in nose Having a crown fitted Why do i smell like fat Disclaimer : The content is not intended to be a substitute for professional medical advice, diagnosis, or treatment. Always seek the advice of your physician or other qualified health provider with any questions you may have regarding your medical condition. Why Do My Teeth Smell So Bad? There are numerous reasons why one might have bad breath. If the hole in your tooth stinks, these might be the cause: Tooth Decay. Teeth produce a foul odor when they are rotting as a result of bacteria. The best way to remove the smell is to eliminate the bacteria. Since the bacteria is likely festering deep inside the pulp of the tooth or perhaps even in the If there is bad smell under dental crown, you need to contact a qualified specialist as soon as possible, because it is fraught with many consequences: If disease-causing bacteria multiply under the crown, then in the end it can cause cysts under the crown of the tooth, and then various suppuration processes in the soft tissues of the oral cavity may occur. Very often, after depressurization Why Does My Dental Crown Smell? August 19, 2020 By Bridge Creek Dental Leave a Comment. Dental crowns are a great solution for protecting damaged teeth. These crowns are made of durable material so that you can treat them much like you do your natural teeth. But when a dental crown seems to be causing an odor, it’s a red flag that something is askew. And while this smelly topic might seem I was have a crown at my front teeth but after 1 month its gettin stinky and I taken off my crown but my tooth is still have an bad smell then couple of weeks i pulled out my tooth then my gums have an small hole and have an odor what should i do? 2 EXPERT ANSWERS. I had a root canal done 7 years ago, and a permanent crown done which was too big. Now having facial pain. Advice? I had my crown The reason for this odor, taste and smell comes from bacteria collecting around the edge of this crown under the gum. Its fine the day you clean and floss but ignore it one day and its back. The edge of the crown to the tooth is not flush, therefore accumulating food that feeds the bacteria and the foul odor/taste is rot. Possibly your tooth decaying also. You need a new crown with a better It might be able to be repaired or it may require the fabrication of a new crown. Your dentist will explain why this happened as well as treatment choices. Answered on Aug 3, 2018. 3 doctors agree. 0. 0 comment. 0. 0 thank. Send thanks to the doctor. 90,000 U.S. doctors in 147 specialties are here to answer your questions or offer you advice, prescriptions, and more. Get help now: Ask doctors

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Crown on Tooth #4 stinks. What is wrong with this picture

why does my crown smell

why does my crown smell - win

Hunter or Huntress Chapter 91: You Will Tell Us

[HUGE SPOILERS] I found a new lore book (6200+ words) regarding the new Exotic quest in the Ginsor Datamine.

EDIT @ 20:51:52 GMT: I have posted this to my Notion page, and improved the formatting some more. I also believe I have found the names of the entries and the name of the book (Captain's Log). See here: https://www.notion.so/Captain-s-Log-Lore-Book-8db8710d79fd48d4af653de7d3b12858

Progress I - The Unquiet Grave (The Opening Feast of Harrenhal)

Daenaerys I Targaryen

D100 list of things that are healing potions and also magical hooch.

(Extreme spoilers) The datamined lore around the ship mentioned in the season trailer, condensed and in chronological order - THERE IS NO LIGHT HERE

Hunter or Huntress Chapter 70: Well This Is Awkward

My thoughts on Intel - $INTC

Cons

Management

Production issues

Competitors

The x86 architecture is getting old

Pros

Management

Brand

Production issues

Competitors

Architecture & Support

why does my crown smell video

why does my crown smell top

Stinky Floss? 2 Reasons Your Breath Smells Like Poo :O ...