Ghost recon wildlands weapon location

Activity: 6 player matchmade battleground, is like a mix between Menagerie and Ketchcrash; solo player activity, Citans Hideouts (much like pirate hideouts)
Locations: Kings watch, Cosmodrone; Dark Forest, EDZ; Hellmouth, Moon; Doomed Sea, Plaguelands
A long-forgotten Warlord of the Dark Ages has resurfaced with the darkness, the long-lost Warlord Citan is back. With the aid of Efrideet, Lord Saladin, and Shiro-4, defeat the Scorn armies amassed by Warlord Citan and the Wrathborn off Xivu Arath, take the fight to each of Warlord Citans forts in the Cosmodrone, Nessus, the Moon, and the Plaguelands.
Story: Guardians and Ghost have been reported missing by the Hidden, Saladin reports that the once feared Warlord Citan has returned, Shiro will be your eyes and ears in the Hellmouth, Efrideet for Nessus, Saladin for Cosmodrone and Nessus.
Week 1: Discover the return of Warlord Citan, storm the fort in the Cosmodrone in the 6 player matchmade battleground, meet Saladin on Caitals flag ship, track down a disciple of Citan, defeat the disciple of Citan (Pirate hideout type missions) so forth...
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week 3 on the moon is when the Wrathborn come into play but only on the moon
When it reaches week 6 is when the plaguelands battleground is availabe, this is where you face Warlord Citan, and destroy his Ghost.
season end event, Xivu Arath attacks the Last city, then Final shape DLC
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Dungeon: Citans usage of the darkness has brought disastrous life back into the plaguelands, Efrideet offers to help you on the dungeon as your eyes and ears, the once Siva riddled Devils have now become Scorn, and a deep trouble lurks, vanquish it before it reaches the surface and destroys the Cosmodrone
3 encounters
1: Find you way into Bunker Trivag and vanquish the once Devils captain now Scorn baron
2: Descend into the Archons keep and defeat the waves of Scorn in the Archons Forge
3: delve into the Warrens into Site 6 and vanquish the evil within, the Scorn Tormentor "Kesdissi" who also can shoot a beam from their eye like an Ogre.
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(NO SIVA, THERE IS NO SIVA)

Reddit account: DustinOffTheAxes
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Discord: Rangi#2214
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Name and House: Edwyle Flint
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Age: 23
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Culture Group: North man
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Appearance: Edwyle is of a strong build, comes in at 5’9”. Brown of eyes and black of hair
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trait: Inspiring
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Skills; Bows (E), Marksman (E), Tactician, Cavalry man
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talents: wood work, drinking, hunting
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Starting title: Lord of Widow's Watch
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Starting location: Widow's watch
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Alternate characters: Lucas Lothston, Jasper Corbray, Argella Selmy, Steffon Fossoway
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Biography
Edwyle Flint was born to Lord Jorah Flint of Widow's Watch and his wife, Jeyne Glenmore. The new born son was a boon for the family, a blessing to the Flints from the Old gods. The couple had struggled with failure to carry children to term, but Edwyle seemed to be a change for the couple. As such, Edwyle was doted upon by his mother and father. It would only be a scant year later that Edwyle was joined by his brother, Artos. An heir and a spare had been given to Lord Flint.
As the years went on, Edwyle grew to be a wild son, as did his younger brother Artos. The two were in constant trouble, seeking out adventures at every corner. This would often times be met with a scolding from their mother, and a stern talking to in the godswood from their father. But these acts did little to deter them. It was only when the boys had learned that their mother was with child once more did they settle down, for a time at the least. It was a gift to their parents, in order to help grace their family with some stability before another wild Flint would enter the world and cause mayhem for Lord Jorah.
This was not to be, however, for the birth of Mors Flint came with a cost, and that cost came in the form of Jeyne Glenmore. The Flints mourned their mother, but Edwyle took it upon himself to stay beside his brothers, taking time out of his studies with the Maester to see his new baby brother. The loss of his mother had sent Edwyle into being more sullen when in studies with the Maester, a matter he could not shake for some years. But time did dull the wounds, as did the constant company of his father and brothers, a fact that Edwyle could take solace in. He wasn't alone, for he had both his family and the Old gods watching over him.
While the pain of losing his mother at a young age had dulled, it seemed things were bound to change. For his father had wed Alysanne Cerwyn, and had gotten her with child, another sibling for Edwyle and the children of Jeyne Glenmore. But one could not pick and choose their family, and as such, Edwyle would remain steadfast in being loyal to family. Despite the impending arrival of his new sibling, Edwyle would remain studious, often times speaking to the men who had served under his grandfather to seek out knowledge of battle tactics. He even took to riding and learning how to best use horses in war. Skills he deemed useful for a future lord Flint.
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When Lord Corin Stark had put forth the efforts to bring the North closer to the rest of the realm, Edwyle had listened as his Uncles paced in the solar, as they ranted and raved to his father, preaching to the man about how building Septs in their land would betray everything they stood for. Everything their history and family had stood for. It had been hours, but the discussion ended, and it was decided. Septs would not be allowed to be built within the lands of Widow's Watch. The Old Gods held true in Widow's Watch, and would not give way to the Seven. The fake gods of the Andals.
When he reached the age of ten name days, Edwyle would take up the bow and arrow, finding them more suitable for him than the sword. The bow felt right in his hand, and the sound of arrows being let loose from the bow was like music to his ears. He would spend many days over the years, when not studying the histories of the North and learning of the fellow houses, honing his skills with the bow and arrow.
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When Lord Jorah Flint passed in the year 198, Edwyle ascended to the seat of Widow's Watch. He would remain steadfast in not allowing the Seven to preach in his lands, nor building septs. He would see the Old Gods remain strong and true in his land.
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TIMELINE
177: Edwyle is born, the first surviving child of Jorah and Jeyne
178: Artos follows after his brother, a spare being granted to the family as well
180: Mors Flint is born, but at the cost of Jeyne Glenmore. The family goes into mourning but remain steadfastly together.
182: Lord Jorah marries Alysanne Cerwyn, and later that year, Theon Flint is born. In this same year, Edwyle takes to his fathers side, learning his duties as the heir of widow's watch from a young age.
183: Edwyle listens to his uncles rant and rave about Lord Stark and the fake gods of the seven, forming his opinion on the Seven.
187: Edwyle would take up the bow and arrow, finding the two to be better than a sword and shield in his hands.
198: Lord Jorah dies in his sleep, leaving Edwyle to ascend to the lordship of Widow's Watch.
FAMILY ECHO: https://www.familyecho.com/?p=JWDUE&c=3y5q6nzn9t&f=712129550719821943
NPCS:
Artos Flint- General
Edwyn Flint-Castellan
Jorah Long- Marksman
Gerold Snow- Master at arms
Allard the younger- General
Eddard Snow- Master at arms
Jeor Flint- Warrior (Blunt weapons)

Link to original story
https://www.reddit.com/nosleep/comments/10meqmh/the_big_rock_candy_mountain_part_1/?utm_source=share&utm_medium=android_app&utm_name=androidcss&utm_term=1&utm_content=share_button
The floor of the cell is covered in decades of mildew and dust. This disgusting carpet does nothing to dull the pain as I skip across it, thrown in by someone with the intention of making a point.
My Name’s Mike, and if any of you are the types to go on a deep dive, you probably know A little about me already.
For those of you that don’t, Jesus I don’t know exactly where to begin.
The Cliff’s notes would be that I spent a little over a decade either being a serial killer or a vigilante. I won’t try to justify my actions, both of those are just sides of the same shitty coin. I’m not a person to be idolized or emulated, so I choose not to plead my case.
Now, while I thought that was just about as screwed up as life could get, one day, out of the blue, after burying my best, fuck, my only friend I found myself, somewhere else. A world that looked and felt like mine, but one where the things that go bump in the night actually existed.
Where I came from, I’d seen monsters, to be sure, but only the kind that happen when people break.
Since I’ve been here? Got caught up in some demented gameshow for demons or something, threw a massive shit in the punch bowl of the thing running the production, and got the world’s unluckiest man his freedom.
And that leads me to my current situation, staring down the rage filled, mildly bruised face of that asshole, that fucking, demonic Ted Turner, Art.
He runs a hand aggressively through his slicked back hair, standing at the door to my cell.
“Looks like your little plan didn’t work, exactly as I predicted, you fuck.
I mean, great try with the little cat thing you had, honestly didn’t see that coming. But, Jesus, Mike, what was your end game? “ Art gloats.
“Cards on the table? It was a lot better, but shit fell through, that whiskey abomination, it was the one that ratted me out I assume?
That being said, still got Kev out. And you can’t really ‘flip off his lightswitch’ if he didn’t let you screw around with his wiring, can you? “ I grin, I keep it, even as a Gucci shoe slams into my face.
Am I scared? Of God damn course I am, I’ve been pissing myself (metaphorically speaking.) since I realised that the rules of reality don’t really apply any more.
Every new grain of sand on the beach of hell my life has become, tosses me further down the road of mental failure. Shit, that’s half of what fucked up my last plan in the first place.
If I could have just kept my shit together long enough, I’d be sipping a beer with Kev in some shit hole town somewhere. But the only thing harder than trying to stamp down fear in the face of God’s and monsters, is trying to do it while projecting some kind of ‘death fears me ‘ persona.
Between you and I? Death doesn’t fear me, in fact, it seems to love to hang around. And every day I have to stare down that grim spectre, the closer I get to losing the tenuous grip on reality I have .
“Oh, fuck Kev. He’s smart enough to stay off my radar, and too stupid to figure out a way to come back at me.
He's got a 1 bedroom in Idaho or something? Salud, good on him.
You, I had high hopes for, and then you decide to wipe your ass all over my carpet, cost me more than I could even explain, and even, get me a little roughed up. My favorite shell, anyway.
I want to recoup some loses Mike. So, you, get to be a part of another one of my projects.
You thought The Path was bad? Oh, you literal, fucking clown, you haven’t seen anything.
I won’t spoil it for you, the devil’s in the details and all, but you know what everyone loves?
Prison.
Not being in it themselves, of course, but seeing others, especially those they hate in there.
This place isn’t fair, the path was a boxing match with Queensbury rules, this is a handcuffed knife fight.
And I can’t wait to see you figure out, all the little surprises it has in store for you. “ Art laughs and tosses me a battered, ancient looking smartphone, “ Feel free to drum me up some good press online if you want. “
My heart is pounding, I have to use every bit of will I have to stop from shaking, to roll my neck and sit against the cold, padless cement bed behind me.
I feel sick, my stomach boiling and gurgling.
“For the love of whatever the demonic equivalent of Christ is, why not just kill me? I’m right here, I have no way of fighting back, and you know damn well that if you give me enough time, I’m going to find a way to wipe my ass on your doorframe next. “ My tone is flippant, or at least, I hope it is.
“The ego on you kid, you think you’re that guy don’t you?
They exist, don’t get me wrong, probably a couple thousand folks capable of taking me out, but trust me, you are not one of them.
This isn’t some ‘Arch’ idiocy where I leave my greatest rival alive. This is me watching you squirm because I can, and making a little profit on the deal.
Don’t flatter yourself. “ Art has produced a long thin knife as he talks, he spins and rolls it absently.
“Before your guys dragged me off, I met something. A corner store, I don’t know if it was haunted, possessed, or if it was some kind of creature that just decided to look like a knock off 7-11.
Point being, it was out there, ethereal, I couldn’t hurt it, outwit it, even slow it down. I ran from that thing as fast as I could. It gave me some serious Lovecraft vibes.
You, Art, are not that guy. “ I notice myself tapping my finger nervously on the slime covered floor, I focus, stopping the tic.
The tip of Art’s knife glows, the sick, grey sheen isn’t heat, but something that makes me start to back up.
“I am, but you will never see that. You’re not worth the effort.
I want to give you a little something though. “ Art stalks toward me, I stand as I back into the farthest corner of the cell, “ Proud of your face paint were you? “
Art grins, and for a moment lets some of his true self slip through. For just a moment I see timeless horror in his eyes, a dark black void of consumed souls and unrestrained evil.
That knife parts my flesh with pain like a whip. Without even using the blade, it’s presence flenses my face, opening up raw, textured furrows in my flesh.
He leaves after he is done, laughing to himself.
The pain makes me black out, my stomach is boiling, I come to dry heaving, the effort sends me back into the oblivion of sleep.
I don’t know how long has passed, my face feels like it is on fire, and the thick steel bars of my cell door are closed.
It takes me two minutes of cupping my hands under the grime laden steel tap to get enough water to clear off a spot on the rusted, old, wall mounted steel mirror.
No mortal hand could have scarred me as accurately as Art did. The wounds, not healed, but cauterised as to not make me bleed out, used depth, and width, to create a colorless replica of my makeup.
I know trauma, physical as well as mental, and these are scars that will never heal. As the fact sinks in that my face is literally no longer my own, I scream, heart pounding, I split open my knees on the cold cement floor.
Pain flares, threatens to send me back to the bliss of unconsciousness, but I don’t care.
I read Kev’s journals, and they paint me in a really… positive light, in a sense.
What I mean is, going by what he thought he saw, I’m some kind of supervillian or something. Tossing three hundred pound air conditioners ( it was the outer shell, seventy pounds, physics and luck did the rest.), wrestling Art ( I was clinging on for dear life, had it not been for Jr and the mass of denizens, I’d have been killed with a flick of his wrist.), or appearing like a ghost (people, even immortal are very unobservant. Especially in an emergency.).
I’m great at seeming horrifying, and that’s a weapon in and of itself, but at the end of the day, that’s all it is.
Kneeling in my own blood, vision blurry with pain, I realise how small, vulnerable, and unarmed I truly am.
By the time daylight shines through the yellow reinforced glass window, I’m already awake. I’ve spent an hour and a half calming myself, trying to find some focus, some centre to keep me going.
I’ve been in prison before, back home, first and last time I tried plying my trade outside of America.
Being the stupid payaso gringo that I am I bit off so much more than I can chew that I wound up choking on it for 2 months in a Mexican prison.
The routine of, count, lineup, chow, remained the same.
The demographics of the population on the other hand…
Being observant is one of my main skills and as I was brought into the absurdly sized cafeteria, I was taken aback at just how many people were here.
Tens of Thousands, easily, maybe a hundred. I try and think of how many missing person cases this accounts for, and even that math doesn’t quite add up.
I quickly inventory the groups that make up the place, not that it wasn’t obvious.
The first, of course are the guards. Some, the majority, appear to be human, well geared up and in intimidating physical condition.
But a handful, they are clearly, something else. Some are smooth featured ebony skinned giants, carrying truncheons that could crush a car engine. Others are grinning, pale skinned bad attempts at human copies, wild eyed and twitching.
Second would be what I called the cultists. They all appeared to style themselves after certain tropes and urban legends, clearly human, but dressing, tattooing and mutilating themselves to appear like, myths, legends, and monsters.
The subtle violence I see tells me I’ve found the gangs.
Third are the Everymen, I can’t see any kind of pattern to them, but they seem to make up the majority of the population. They keep their distance from the guards and the cultists, but on more than one occasion I see then stand, united against attempts at extortion.
The last group, I call the candles, people that are clearly on their way out mentally and physically. Sunken eyed, and set upon from all angles, at any moment these folks could be simply snuffed out.
I keep my distance, and stay respectful, the meandering, twisting line seems to take hours to get me my thick slice of crumbling yellow bread, and thick red slurry that reminds me of porridge masquerading as meat.
My coat is gone but I’m left with the majority of the clothing I fashioned back in the path. I see a mix of unwashed orange uniforms and ‘civilian’ clothing, some of the cultists, bordering more on costume than wardrobe.
As the massive, butchers apron wearing man in smeared clown makeup sits down, I wish I’d have been issued something more generic. I saw this coming the second I noticed a lump of Chlorophiles in blood stained getups.
“You sit with us. “ I can’t tell if it’s an accent or speech pattern, the clown sounds strange, either way.
I eat a spoonful of the red sludge.
“No disrespect intended, I’m not one for clubs. I’m going to make no waves, no plays, nothing. I’m a ghost. “ I say, levelly, avoiding eye contact.
Why, you might ask, having been told about my adventures in murder.
Well, that’s just it. Murder is easy, and any time you saw me end a life, it was just that.
A fight, that’s another thing entirely, especially against someone with a significant weight and height advantage.
“Not asking. You got friends. “ The massive clown moves his bulk closer, it’s like sitting next to a forklift.
I eat the bread, it tastes amazing until I swallow, then has a foul, chemical aftertaste.
I drink some tepid, burgundy fluid that might be caffeinated.
No weapons nearby, no one watching that might step in. I’m full of bruises and sprains, and probably anemic from blood loss. Not to mention one eye is running at about fifty per cent. Art didn’t sever the optic nerve last time, but he wasn’t gentle. My heart races.
“I don’t play well with people who take clowning and slap a coat of dark paint on it.
You guys are Clown Killers. You are good at killing, I’m sure, but the clown part, it’s tacked on.
Myself, I’m a killer clown…. “ I had a really good rant planned, honestly, it was a corker, douche bags would have used it in memes for a decade.
But before I can react, with one massive hand, he bounces my face off of the pitted steel table.
It rings my bell, but not as much as I let on. In clowning terms, what I do Is called a pratfall.
For those of you that don’t speak nerd, I oversell the hit, falling backwards, eyes fluttering.
I tip backwards, reaching out my left arm, as if to steady myself. The meat mountain is unbothered, knowing I have no chance unarmed, in this close, he let’s me grab one shoulder of the butchers apron. The material is thick, and matted in stains that will never come out, literally or metaphorically.
If you want to take someone out, in a relatively harmless way, you don’t want to choke them. It takes forever, usually ends up killing them, and generally is a bad idea for everyone involved.
Your goal is go cut off blood flow to the brain as quickly and fully as possible.
I hook my thumb around the opposite shoulder strap, and snap my body backward, the apron acting as an impromptu Garrotte.
His right arm is knotted through my left, as he tries to struggle, to put his murderous intent and ability to work, the choke only becomes tighter.
I don’t want enemies here, and I only have so many tricks to play before things come to a knock down drag out fight, so I leave the clown unharmed.
I do need friends, but the look I get as I take a seat at a loose collection of men is cold and fearful.
A red haired guy, five foot nine or so, makes eye contact, “Anything we can help you with? “ he says, fearless.
“Yeah, despite the face work I’ve had done, I have fuck all in common with any of those penny wise, Icp, Gacy dressed, assholes.
I need a tribe guys, you all look like the unlucky ones around here, but I don’t want to get involved in bloodshed.
I’m Mike “ I know, that’s only mostly true, but I mean it, either way. I extend a hand.
“Chris. “ the red haired guy says, he wears a white dress shirt and surprisingly blue jeans, “Those stains around your cuffs tell me otherwise.
If you’re telling the truth, that’s great. If you are lying, and still sane enough to keep your word, that’s even better. “ Chris’s tone is mirthless, I read him easily. He’s been here a long time for a short life, he looks thirty max, and I shudder to think how young he may have been when he came in.
Chris catches me up on the ins and outs of this place, beyond what a general knowledge of prison would give.
Everyone here has crimes they were not convicted of, that would, otherwise put them in jail for life. A large amount, obviously are murderers, torturers, real bastards.
But a significant minority are just regular folks, maybe a bit thoughtless, but that have collected a litany of small, petty, in cases almost victim less crimes.
No one seems to be aware of the… reality t.v. Meets demonic fast food aspect of things, but there is a Doom cherry on this fear Sunday.
There is a single way someone can get out. To earn 20 tokens.
And how does one earn these tokens you ask?
Each day the prison holds an event, to call it a challenge would insinuate a level of fair play that is simply not there. The events range from somewhat fair, a fight or game of chance, to esoteric rituals complex enough to rip someone’s soul from their body.
These tokens are also the sole form of currency in the prison, they can buy everything from commissary snacks to literal free passes from guards.
The economy has created a cut throat society, the heads of the cults not even taking advantage of being able to be free, but simply reveling in the power of being psychotic and enabled.
The weak are enslaved, their lives traded on the off chance at tokens.
So, of course, braindead asshole that I am, I signed myself right up. Feeling a little more confidant after climbing Mount Bozo.
It's 8pm and the volunteers are rounded up and brought to a massive room that has all the trappings of a gymnasium, but the scale is large enough easily hold the focus of tonight’s events.
In tiered bleachers all around us, our fellow prisoners cheer and scream. The smell of thousands of unwashed, men is overpowering, the din of excitement is deafening.
But my attention is focussed on the small, single floor home, sitting out of place in the middle of the polished wood floor.
What I wouldn’t give for Demi to appear right now, give me the low down on all the supernatural bullshit that is heading my way. But the longer we stayed in the mountain the less and less the most useful voice in my head could, or would, make an appearance.
I study each of my fellow volunteers, the goal seems simple, last the longest in the home. Men enter and leave within minutes. They come out looking shaken, with minor lacerations, and a general sense of shell shock.
By the time my turn arrives, I think I know what I’m in for.
I’m wrong.
As the baby blue door closes behind me, nothing immediately in the home causes me concern. The fixtures and furniture is a bit out of date, the lighting is, not inviting, and there is a general fog of gloom hanging around.
I smile, I’ve felt this before. Granted I had Demi feeding me supernatural errata at the time, but, I’m positive I can wing it.
“So, I think I may have met one of you guys before. Back in New York, a Happy-Face corner store, anyone you know?
Scary dude, took a couple of pieces out of me.
But this, it’s more like an MMA fight, right? I tap out when you start kicking my ass? “ I stretch, trying to see if I’m getting any kind of reaction.
I inventory the objects around me, last time everything that wasn’t nailed down, shifted, changed and tried to take me apart.
You may have noticed by now, I love using the phrase ‘ last time’, and that’s because up until this moment, I haven’t learned a fucking thing here.
Mike’s first rule of paranormal survival, last time means nothing.
“It’s you” the voice is young, late teens, and male.
I spin, expecting violence, then, wishing violence.
I know the young man, not this pale, older, revenant with a self inflicted gunshot wound, but I know him none the less.
I’m not being metaphorical when I say my heart misses a beat, I almost fall over, pounding at my chest to stop it’s arythmatic pounding.
I knew what happened to him, found it out long after I could do anything about it. And wasn’t in the best of places when I did.
I’ll call him a ghost for simplicity sake, but this kid, he’s my first, and biggest mistake.
I based who I turned into on finding what I thought was one of the worst people on earth. This kid’s father.
I did things to him worthy of what I knew he did. And to top it all off, I had him die by his wife’s hand.
Well, a decade later I find out, the guy wasn’t a Saint, but he didn’t do anything worthy of the twisted shit I put him through.
I got wind of some false information put out there in a moment of rage by a tech savvy ten year old. The kid never intended it to see the light of day
“I found out about you Mike, I saw that you were a hero. “ The voice is thin echoes like a stuck record.
“No kid, don’t think that. “ I mumble, I’m shaking, the air is freezing, each breath comes out as white mist.
I’m sitting on the flower printed couch now, and it hits me.
I’d assumed because Art couldn’t screw around in my head last time, the same went for everything here.
Remember what we said about last time.
“My told me what happened one night, what I made you do.
I destroyed her memory of him, I made a real Hero kill him, I couldn’t keep hurting people. “ I can see images, flashing in my mind, memories that are not mine.
I’m counting seconds, trying to focus, trying to stay long enough to get the token. It has to have been fifteen, twenty minutes at least.
I try to work up a smirk, to convince myself that I’m just being played by the paranormal equivalent of a heckler.
That’s not it though, This place, this house, is reaching inside me and finding places to look. As I stare into the young man’s rotted eyes I know this is some part of him, torn away from whatever rest he was entitled to.
The lights dim, then turn off. The house is silent.
Hollywood gets being both a lunatic and a hitman wrong in equal measure. No matter how much morality you want to inject into the profession, there are going to come times when you make mistakes.
As the lights slowly turn to a dull orange glow, I’m surrounded by the hovering, mutilated forms of mine.
Those that died that could have been spared, those that died because of my inaction, or stupidity. I’ve never forgotten them, I use them to make sure I never make the same mistakes again, but having them looming, screaming, all demanding I hear their stories, their accusations, their placations.
It's too much, I stumble from the couch, trying to avoid the icy touch of these phantoms. For a moment I find some last scrap of courage, I close my eyes, shut out the shrieking din of the dead.
The silence hits like a truck, I focus, trying to calm my burned out nerves.
Then they are reignited like a fucking welding torch.
“This place didn’t bring us here.
We’ve been right next to you for years Mike. We can’t leave. “ The voice of my first mistake.
Like a toddler I try to run with my eyes closed, I trip over a glass coffee table, clawing my way up the door, grasping at the handle.
I can feel a slight pull now, almost magnetic, trying to drag me backwards.
My hands shake too much, I have to steady my right wrist with my left hand, the floor becomes slick, I see the door, escape start to move further away as I’m pulled backward.
I've taken a hit or two, and had a couple of three day benders that have made me piss myself. But as I stumble, trying to make progress on the nearly friction less floor, I have another unpleasant first experience.
I grab the handle, pulling myself out of the house, launching my body into a skin peeling tumble across unforgiving plank flooring.
I’m a shaking, fetal wreck, by the time I’ve pulled myself together enough to take in my surroundings, I see the red Led clock displaying my time.
42 seconds. Bottom of the barrel. The jeers and booing from the crowd do nothing for my frayed nerves or the storm of fear and anxiety going through my mind.
I’m exhausted, but I can’t sleep, it has nothing to do with the concrete slab that serves as my bed.
My stomach has been knotting and cramping, with each passing second I get more worried I blew some internal gasket in one of the many life or death struggles in the past months.
When I finally manage to vomit, the urge is strong enough I get no where near the filth crusted hole in the floor that serves as my toilet. And my worst fears are confirmed as I see the massive pile of vomit is mostly blood.
… and bones? Is that an eyeball? A piece of fur?
The mass begins to pull itself together, bits and pieces forming the most rudimentary attempt at a face.
“Junior? “ I say, stunned.

Ubisoft, the publishers behind Assassin’s Creed, Far Cry and Ghost Recon, tonight announced that an “AI tool” is currently helping its developers write dialogue for some of its games.

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You Matter to Her in a Way No One Else Could
When you died and were reborn, you became divine. You were love, and you were violence, and you were my miracle. A God sprung forth from the decaying machinery of your broken body. Koishi, the God of Love and Hate—have mercy on us all.
Down by the shore of one of the great Lunar seas, there sat a lonely shack thatched with feathers. Inside, there was a massive wani no less than eight leagues long… and her infant son. To that crocodile who had never known true familial love, that delicate little child—who cooed and smiled at his mother’s every move—was nothing less than a miracle. Such a delicate life in her claws, who knew nothing but unconditional love for his mother—to the crocodile, it was proof there was still good in the world.
She was tired, but the crocodile forced herself to stay awake. There was something she needed to do—a memory she wanted to share with the most important person in her life.
So, with all the caution and tenderness in the world, she picked up her child with her jaws and coaxed him into her throat pouch. The newborn child, perhaps having some shared instinct with his crocodilian mother, did not cry or struggle. Instead, he let out a giggle as he poked his head out from between his mother’s jagged teeth. With a snort, the dragon climbed out of her thatch hut, and crawled along the shore, drawing a meandering trail in the sand as she went.
When she reached the point where the water came to shore in gentle waves, the crocodile set herself down in the sand, letting the waves wash in and lick at her child in gentle sprays. Her child giggled as the Lunar sea’s tickled him with its pure waters, and as he did, his mother couldn’t help but feel at peace.
Nothing. Nothing at all would be able to take this from her.
Her miracle.
Toyohime opened her eye to clear blue skies.
She flexed her fingers, and instead of feeling the cold steel of the ship she started to tear apart, she felt so many tiny pebbles, warmed by their time in the sun. Sand? She brought a fistful of the stuff into her vision, before letting it fall through her fingers and run down her face. It was too real to be a dream.
Toyohime sat up to observe her surroundings. As far as the eye could see, there were infinite stretches of sand collected into wind-swept dunes that obscured the horizon. It was hot. Unbelievably so for what was supposedly the void. She felt a gentle gust of warm wind pass by her and toss her hair. This place… this impossible place… was she dead?
She rose to her feet, fighting biting aches and pains from her battle not too long ago. No—not dead. Somehow, she had survived—there was no other explanation. And as she looked down to assess the damage she had taken, her suspicions were only confirmed. Her right arm was missing, and in its place was nothing but a healed stump. The nasty cuts and bruises she had received in the fighting had all healed over for the most part, the only evidence they happened at all being residual scars that were yet to disappear. The ground was covered in dried blood. She must’ve been laying here in this sand trap for hours.
She brought her free arm, completely healed, up to the general space where her right eye was to find an arrow still protruding from it. Wrapping her fingers around the shaft, Toyohime tore it out in a fluid motion, causing the wound to reopen and drip blood onto the sands below. But, through some miraculous action, it was mere moments before the flow of blood stopped as the wound healed shut. Her right eye was still inoperable, but this healing ability was downright uncanny, even for a god.
She flexed her fingers. It felt like there was a hole in her head from which memories and feelings poured out. The mystery of how she got here, who she killed, and whether she could even trust her own senses had no answer—Toyohime knew she herself had made sure of that. She supposed there was a good reason. The less she knew, the better. That was something she could trick herself into believing.
Though no matter how much she forced herself to forget, she had the horrible feeling she had done something unforgivable—something she would kill over. In a sea of atrocities however, she could hardly even begin to suppose what that might have been. Maybe the heat was starting to fry her brain.
After spending a few minutes snapping the arrows lodged in her body by their shafts, Toyohime looked to the horizon, and then up. Ahead, there was a massive sand dune, no less than five times her height, and beyond the crest—a black pillar of smoke. Toyohime was not alone.
As she made her way up the shifting incline, Toyohime got to thinking about her next course of action. If this wasn’t a hallucination, then it most certainly had to be some extension of Koishi's will. Land in an impossible space… the creation of something impossible like that could only be a factor of a deteriorating mind, or God. And Toyohime had no time to consider the possibility of a crumbling psyche—not when she had a duty left unfulfilled.
But then… that would mean this was the paradise of Koishi’s mind. Surely, by her side is where she would find her salvation. She had already come to terms with it—that there was nothing left for her in the old world. Koishi could pervert and corrupt reality in whatever twisted ways she wanted—as long as it was the creation of her heart, it would be sufficient. Everything beyond that was not worth saving to the former princess.
… But that also meant there would be more enemies. More people she had to kill. She was ready. Ready to kill and ready to die in the name of love.
And as she planted her boot upon the peak of that sand dune, she saw the whole world become bare before her. A fair distance away was the crashed wreck of a golden ship, releasing plumes of black smoke as it burnt away. From this distance, it was difficult to make out any finer details, but she was sure the occupants had escaped. Satori was resourceful and stubborn, if nothing else. Dying in a crash was an impossibility.
She then traced a line from the ship through the shifting sands—to a city upon the horizon. Massive towers of glass and steel pushing against the sky, half buried in the sand, bending light around them as they reflected the intense heat of the sun. It gave the sight an unnatural fuzziness, as if the city was threatening to disappear at any moment.
As she traced the decaying visage of those buildings upwards, she saw a thin line reach beyond and into the sky. The line separated into two before converging back on itself. Above the city, etched upon the sky itself, was a pitch black gap in reality, opened and filled with so many eyes. And above still, the object of Toyohime’s desires and her sole driving factor—Koishi Komeiji.
Though the God’s eye was open, as well as the myriad collection of smaller eyes and drooling jaws that had lined every square inch of her squirming appendages, it was hard to tell if she was awake or conscious. Toyohime knew Koishi best, and if she had any guess as to what Koishi had been doing in the time they spent apart, it was receding back into the numbing comfort of her own mind. Even now, Toyohime figured she was still dreaming, avoiding the cruel weight of her responsibility. What manifested outside of her mind must’ve been some sort of twisted runoff.
Down there, hidden in the dunes, Toyohime knew there were those who would take this dream from Koishi. Those who would hurt Koishi. Those people would’ve done just as well to dig their own graves and build their own coffins. Because so long as Toyohime drew breath, she would protect Koishi with everything she could muster—that was her promise and the nature of her impossible, unconditional love.
Koishi was Toyohime’s second chance.
This time, one way or another, there would be no opportunity for a third.
Mima, on the other hand, had woken up quite a bit earlier than Toyohime had.
She had not suffered any fatal wounds or debilitating strikes leading up to the point where the reality around her started to crumble and distort—but she had briefly lost consciousness regardless. She figured that might’ve been a good thing; an action so absurd and so against everything she knew, perpetrated by an impossibly powerful being… even if a mere glimpse didn’t physically tear her mind to ribbons, she had no interest in trying to understand such a nonsensical event.
Mima awoke not in a desert, but in a grand sprawling city of seemingly human construction. Though the sun still hung overhead, the impossible hills and mountains of sand that caged the city in, always seemed to shift and move in the most calculated way… such that the sun was always put out. Caught in the shade, the city looked like it was in a perpetual night, in spite of the blinding yellow of the endless desert just beyond its limits.
Though that was the case, the city was far from dark. Street lamps, blinding neon signs, blinking traffic lights, apartments and houses with windows illuminated by the fluorescent lights within… It gave the impression the city was alive. It seemed exactly as a real bustling city at night, with its breathing and blinking—but there were no people. No matter how far Mima walked, no matter how many buildings she popped in, she would encounter no souls. She would find, in those buildings, immaculate setpieces filled with lived-in charm, hints and implications of life—but not people. Not even Yukari, who she wandered the streets in search of.
She recognized this place. This city—Tokyo. It couldn’t have possibly been, but it was the same Tokyo she grew up in, back before the Moonlight Descent and before the Kaiju. Before her chance meeting with the youkai who used to be her friend. This city, trapped in the middle of the desert, caught in an artificial night that obscured the flow of time—somehow it managed to be the perfect recreation of a long lost city, as if someone had taken a scalpel to the part of Mima’s brain that held onto the precious memories of her past life. It was comforting, being back in familiar territory, but it also carried along a pervasive uneasiness. The nostalgia said it was real, but the rational mind knew better than to buy into an impossible mirage—made all the more uneasy by the deathly silence of its streets.
After wandering around for a dozen minutes or more, Mima eventually came to find Yukari in a 24-hour fast food joint. She was sitting, out of her suit and miraculously healed, on a stool that faced the street outside, with her head down and a small pool of drool collecting at the point where the corner of her mouth met the countertop. Renko always said Maribel could fall asleep anywhere.
Mima floated back and forth around the gently snoring form of Yukari for a bit, considering her options. She changed back into her Renko form for a second, and after adjusting her hat a little, she reached over to tap Yukari on the shoulder… but then shied away. Glancing at Yukari, then back to her bag, she rummaged through its bottomless contents and pulled out a whole host of items: hand mirrors, makeup kits, two liter bottles of listerine, mints and peppermint breath spray and assorted beauty products.
She stole a quick glance back at Yukari to make sure she was asleep before going at it—in one go, she dumped every minty product she could into her mouth before swishing the unholy mixture in her mouth. It was not a moment later that she coughed out all of that liquid ice with a retch and a gag. Sheepishly, she turned her head to see if Yukari had woken up in all the commotion. Luckily, she was still knocked out something fierce. Mima might’ve guessed she was dead, if it weren’t for the occasional snore.
Undeterred, she opened a hand mirror and began to apply her makeup. Carefully. There was a subtle art to it—she only needed enough to hide any unsightly blemishes she might’ve gotten from her rather shut-in lifestyle as a ghost. Anything more, and Maribel was bound to notice Mima was purposefully fixing her appearance around her. None of that. Mima was trying for a more subliminal approach… It’s what worked in the past, after all.
Well, upon further thought, Mima figured “worked” was too strong a word. She did die before she saw any results, after all. But enough of that, Mima thought—now that she regained her memories, she’s finally gotten another shot. This being the apocalypse and all, she figured she should probably make it count.
She clicked close her portable hand mirror and, along with the rest of her stuff, threw it back into her field bag. She stole one last glance at Yukari, who was still sleeping soundly, before straightening her hat and clearing her throat.
“Maribel…” she said in a quiet, sing-song voice. She placed a hand on Yukari’s shoulder and gave it a gentle shake. “Maribel, wake up.”
No response. Mima pouted as she shook her around again. “Merry? It’s so scary around here—I need someone super strong and amazing by my side. Maybe we could hold hands?”
Nothing but more snoring. Mima’s expression fell. “... Okay, seriously. Wake up.”
“Don’t make me break out the big guns, Merry,” Mima said, digging through her bag and pulling out an airhorn. “I’ll do it. You think I’m bluffing?”
A tense beat passes. Mima stows away the airhorn. “... Ah, I’m just kidding. I wouldn’t do something like that to you. You’re too cute, hehe.”
“I’m not above this, though.” She reaches back into her bag and pulls out a spray bottle filled with water… before giving Yukari’s face a couple of quick spritzes.
That quiet, tranquil expression to Mima seemed almost a timeless representation of the relationship she shared with Maribel quickly contorted into one of disgust. After a moment of being pelted with spray after spray of water droplets, Yukari finally was roused from her sleep, a squinty, grouchy mess.
“Who..? Urgh…” She mumbled with a groan. When Yukari saw Renko, immaculately constructed before her with enough accuracy to convince her she came straight from her memories, she froze. Her voice was barely above a whisper. “... Renko?”
“Hehe… Yep, it’s me! Your best friend. Best girl-friend, even. That is, a girl who is also a friend. Not a girlfriend, you know? Aha… Unless? Kidding, kidding.” Mima flashed an easy smile. “Glad you’re awake. Hey, before you say anything else—how do I look? I look cute, right? I know we’re in the middle of saving the world and everything, but I’ve actually been spending a lot of time taking care of my appearance.”
As Mima continued to ramble on and Yukari continued to wake up, her expression made a slow and gradual pivot. Where at first Yukari couldn’t hide her bemusement from her face—as well as that strange pained expression someone would have, seeing a loved one they have long since finished mourning appear upon their doorstep—she eventually came to settle on an empty stare and a neutral, apathetic expression. It hurt Mima a little, seeing such a radical turn in her demeanor.
“Oh,” Yukari muttered. “It’s just you.”
Mima didn’t think she intended it, but there was a layer of latent annoyance in her words. Or maybe it was disappointment? A thousand years or more apart did a lot to shift their relationship. That much was clear—and it hurt.
Yukari took a moment to look Mima up and down. With a scoff and a roll of her eyes, she delivered an unceremonious answer. “You look fine.”
Mima sighed in response. “Hey, I’ll take it.”
“More importantly…” As Yukari continued, she craned her neck around to absorb every detail of her surroundings: everything from the light fixtures above to the tables that were so meticulously set and prepared. “... Where are we?”
Her eyes naturally gravitated toward the front counter and the kitchen section that was just behind—meticulously wrapped burgers and fresh fries, set underneath heat lamps… it was as if they were all made recently. But that wasn’t even the strangest detail Yukari’s eyes were able to pick out. Upon one of the tables was a tray, filled with half eaten food—as if the patrons ceased to exist in the middle of their meal. This was beyond a mere liminal space, where it gave the impression of once being a place where people gathered—it was closer in relation to the scene of an ongoing disaster, where people had left in a hurry.
In that way, it didn’t carry much of the surreal quality of a place no longer meant for humans—it more so felt like a place with a cursed history, its sinister and mysterious narrative etched into its skin and flesh through the vestiges of human presence. Mima could tell, being a ghost herself, there was more to this place than the physical construction. As to what ‘more’ was, she could not place.
She could tell Yukari was thinking something similar by the way she walked around and took in the feeling of the place. Her posture was rigid and cautious, but not necessarily ready and waiting for danger. There was a quiet dread to the things that weren’t, but should’ve been.
“I’m trying to figure that out myself,” Mima replied, following Yukari around with her arms folded behind her back. “You’re going to think I’m crazy, but… I think we’re back in Tokyo.”
“I don’t think you’re crazy.” Yukari replied. She walked over to the table with the food and traced a finger across its top. No dust clung to the surface of her finger, as if the tabletop had recently been cleaned. She brought the back of her palm close to the food. It was still radiating just a little bit of heat, as if it had been freshly served. “That’s the part that scares me.”
“... Assuming this is all very much real, this must be Koishi’s doing,” Yukari declared, taking a moment to look down at herself. As she flexed her fingers, her eyes narrowed. Mima figured she might’ve just realized she had been healed and mysteriously back to her usual outfit. She still looked younger and weaker than she once was, but there was an undeniable, albeit subtle increase in the vitality she seemed to convey. As Yukari’s eyes wandered to the empty city street outside, Mima couldn’t help but notice that expression—that idle, faraway gaze that looked like Yukari had trapped herself in a vivid daydream. She couldn’t help but realize how much Maribel had changed—and yet stayed the same.
“Whatcha thinking, Merry?” Mima tried, shuffling up to Yukari’s side.
“Yukari.”
“Oh. Right. Ha, that’s my bad. My bad…”
“I’m thinking: why Tokyo specifically?” With a wave of her hand, Yukari opened a gap next to her. Through that little tear in reality was a bird’s eye view of the whole city, as well as the infinite desert that surrounded it. “... There must be some significance to this location, but I couldn’t possibly imagine what it could be. Not right now, knowing what we know.”
“Hey, I grew up in Tokyo, you know? Maybe it has something to do with that? And… y’know, we were teaching in Tokyo before…” Mima gestured vaguely around herself. “... Everything, I guess. Maybe Koishi’s reacting to our memories.”
“Could be. Could just as easily be something related to Koishi. Could be nothing at all.” The view through the gap eventually fizzled out, leaving nothing but the inky blackness of the pocket dimension Yukari held dominion over. She let out a sigh before stitching the gap closed with a wave of her hand. “I’d suggest we keep on moving. Collect as much information as we can about this place. But only what we need—the plan is still largely the same. There’s no telling when she will appear again. Best be as quick about it as we can.”
“Oh. Uh… Alright. That’s cool.”
“... What?”
“Hm?”
“What’s wrong? You disagree?”
“Oh no, ah…” A sheepish grin crawled across Mima’s face. “I was just thinking about how much you’ve changed, is all. It’s just… you know, a huge city missing all of its people is pretty mysterious, huh? Don’t you want to do more exploring? Poke around a bit and take in the sights? Like we used to—just one last time?”
There was an unsettling period of silence where Yukari stared straight through Mima with that flat look. She averted her eyes for a passing moment. When Yukari returned her gaze to Mima, it was steely and cold. “No. Neither of us are kids anymore. We have duties and responsibilities that we can not abandon. Not for anything.”
Yukari brushed past Mima. The gesture wasn’t very rough at all, but Mima felt it come at her hard. As Yukari opened the door, she looked back at Mima and gestured to her to follow.
“Let’s go.”
Orin did not want much from life.
There was Satori, her master, who she cared about deeply. There was Okuu, her best friend, who she loved. There was Koishi, the younger sister of her master, who she felt obligated to take care of. And of course, there was her job of transporting corpses, which she could do endlessly and without tiring. Those things more or less encompassed everything she cared about—Orin was a simple person.
So as she crawled out the emergency hatch located at the top of the ship her master had so recklessly buried into a sand dune, she couldn’t help but feel so hopelessly out of her depth. With a groan, she hoisted herself over the lip of the hatch before losing her balance and tumbling over.
As she tumbled downward, bumping her head against every little edge the ship had on her way down, the visor to her suit cracked and then shattered. But as she flopped down into the warm sand, her arms and legs spread in a state of absolute fatigue, she couldn’t really bring herself to care about the warning tones in her helmet—or the fact she was able to breathe the air here, in what used to be the void. Frankly, all she could think about was how much she wanted to go home.
“Orin! Are you okay?” A familiar voice called from somewhere outside her field of vision. It was followed by the hasty clattering of boots on metal as they no doubt clambered down the ship in a hurry.
All Orin could offer in response was a weak grunt and the extension of a thumbs up.
“Are… are you insane?” Another voice called soon after, all breathless and hoarse. It cracked with exertion, as if it had already been worn out by so much screaming. “Satori, what form of devil possessed you to do that? We could’ve all died!”
Satori, of course, didn’t respond. Not before she entered Orin’s field of view, her own helmet long since thrown away. Her face was etched with a rare look of concern, and she breathed a deep sigh of relief when she saw Orin manage a weak smile. Wordlessly, Satori jostled off the smashed helmet from Orin’s suit and brushed away any remaining debris… before pulling her into a tight embrace.
Orin, dazed and shocked from the crash, could manage little else than to rest her head upon her master’s shoulders as she was pulled in. But through whatever stores of energy she had left, she managed to raise her arms and wrap them around in loose reciprocation.
“I’m okay,” she whispered. “I’m okay.”
Satori pulled back from the hug, but stayed kneeling by Orin’s side. Cautiously, she looked to the horizon, as if she had caught a vanishing glimpse of something stalking them from behind the shifting sands. She extended an elbow for Orin to grab on to. “Let’s go. Can you stand?”
“I… I think so,” Orin mumbled, hooking one of her arms around Satori’s elbow and placing a hand on her shoulder for support. Her master lifted, and in response Orin tried her best to stumble onto her feet, with mixed results. As she straightened herself out with the help of Satori, she heard her bones shift and crackle in strange ways—followed by an absolute lightning strike of localized pain in the leg and the fuzzy static that came to replace it.
After a sharp intake of breath and a pained wince, Orin settled into a decidedly unconvincing posture—she plastered a smile on her face and shifted all of her weight onto the other leg in a poor imitation of nonchalance, but Satori’s face only got graver. It broke Orin’s heart. For a moment, Orin tried to separate herself from her master so she could stand on her own—but Satori only squeezed her in closer, as if she would’ve lost Orin the second she let go.
That didn’t surprise Orin much. She knew better than anyone that the events one year ago were still fresh in her master’s mind. Even now, it haunted her every action, and now the consequences were starting to catch up with everyone involved. But to Orin, that didn’t matter. It never did—not so long as Satori was her master, and Orin was her pet. Satori could march to the deepest pit of Hell, pick a fight with a God, oppose reality itself… and Orin would march along right beside her, no matter what.
Patchouli, on the other hand, did not share the same sentiment. She marched up to the two, at least temporarily uncaring of the fantastical environment they found themselves in, and went straight to airing out her grievances.
“Recklessly engaging with Toyohime like that, against all better logic… one day, and this day might very well come sooner than you think, your obsession with that cursed woman will hurt someone you care about,” Patchouli snapped. As she looked to Orin, whose body was riddled with evidence of blunt trauma, her expression softened. “... It already has.”
“As if we had any other choice. It was our best shot to kill her, once and for all,” Satori replied, stone-faced and cold. “... Besides, let Orin speak for herself. As if you know what she does and doesn’t wish for.”
“... Orin wasn’t the only person who got hurt. Or killed.”
“It just so happens that Eirin conveniently falls outside my definition of ‘people I care about.’ I fail to see the issue.” Satori snorted with disgust, as if offended by the mere implication. Orin wanted to speak up and cut between the fighting, but couldn’t find the strength to oppose her own master. “That aside, who says I was the one who got her killed? She got herself killed, following her own incomprehensible mess of half-baked ideas and strategies. What are you coming at me for?”
“How could you be so cold toward someone like her? Especially since we were all fighting out there together, as comrades? Have you no shame?”
“I’ve no love for her. Not after what she did to my sister.” Satori stared straight into Patchouli’s eyes. Sometimes her master was like this—staring straight ahead through a person, as if judging the content of their soul itself. Sometimes, this was literally the case, given that she made liberal use of her opened third eye. “We might be fighting beside each other, but we’re fighting for completely different things. Yukari, Eirin, Kaguya, even you and I—we’re all fighting for something different. Those are just the facts. Just as it was a fact that Koakuma had darkness in her heart. It’s that kind of fact.”
“How cynical. Aren’t we friends?”
Satori fixed Patchouli with a steady glare as she thought through her answer. Even with an open eye, Orin found her master’s thought process difficult to parse.
“... No. We aren’t,” Satori settled. “It’s not a secret—I’m fighting to get my sister back. I’m fighting to kill the person who turned her into a monster. I’m fighting to protect my family. You are doing none of those things—you’re fighting for a more abstract reason: protecting the world, or preventing human suffering, or whatever other justification you assign to your actions. It’s admirable, but recognize that It’s only by convenience that we’re here, helping each other out.”
“... Is that right?” Patchouli muttered under her breath. “Then if it came between Yukari, or Eirin, or me, or anyone else… and your family. Who would you choose?”
Silence.
“It’s best to be honest with ourselves. It saves us the heartache.”
“I see.”
In the silence that came after, the atmosphere seemed to become heavier. Orin spent each passing beat being suffocated by the pressure. Her eyes darted from Patchouli to her master, and then back again.
“Er…” Orin started. “Let’s ah… could we just figure out what we’re going to do next, maybe? Without fighting—that would be nice.”
“Good plan, Orin,” Satori said. Though strangely enough, she wouldn’t take her eyes off of Patchouli. “I’m not quite sure what we would do without you.”
Patchouli looked away. Orin couldn’t help but feel vaguely responsible—though the second the thought even popped into mind, Satori squeezed a little tighter, as if in reassurance.
“... There’s no use in arguing,” Patchouli said with a heavy sigh. “Or rather, it’s a subject for later, when we aren’t all in danger. For now, I agree—we should figure out our next steps.”
The guns had long since run quiet.
Those satellites—their powerful bodies forged by the greatest minds, cast in the strongest metals, and mounted with the fiercest weapons humanity could muster—how could they have possibly matched the horror of God’s wrath? They could never, and for their hubris, their bodies and their souls were scattered and broken as a million glittering lights upon the ocean.
Those were the kinds of things Kaguya Houraisan thought about as she sat beside a flickering fire, her only source of light deep in the darkness of a desert night, not a few meters from the turned and battered wreckage of the CNS Beyond the Sun. In the void, It was battered by unseen force, turned three times—and upon the fourth, struck down and consumed by the void, as was the divine will of God. To its crew, it might have seemed like nothing less than a castigation of divine nature—but Kaguya knew it was nothing more than the temper tantrum of a child. As infant children must necessarily cry, Koishi must necessarily kill—it was her unconscious will.
Woe upon humanity, as its greatest accomplishment was brought low and made worthless before a child. Her own child. What a dubious honor it was—being the mother of such a terrifying, omnipresent killer.
Kaguya was on the ship when it was attacked by Toyohime. She was there to see Eirin march on to meet her. And she was there to see her die. It didn’t bother Kaguya too much—after all, she had watched Eirin die countless times. She will likely watch her die countless more, before all is said and done. But it was there, seized by the temporary shock, that Kaguya lost consciousness. When she woke up, she was deep within the fresh wreckage of humanity’s greatest weapon—alone. On what happened to her crew, and why Kaguya was spared, she could only make guesses.
With no direction and no plan, Kaguya spent what felt like hours wandering the claustrophobic halls of that great metal cage of a ship. But she was alone. Alone in such a way that not even the impression of humanity remained. Even the spot where she saw three men become atomized by Toyohime’s attack, which had burnt dark impressions of their silhouettes into the steel, was mysteriously void of any sign they were killed at all. The damage remained, but the people were gone—erased from existence in a way only God could manage.
When she eventually emerged from the dark recesses of the ship into a darker night, with nothing but the stars above and the inexplicable ground below, she could do nothing but start a simple fire. The night was cold, and she had a feeling it would be long. Warmth would be needed.
This, alone and huddled by a dying fire, must have been the end. Kaguya shifted closer to the flame, and held her knees closer to her chest. She didn’t know what to do. When her own daughter had sought her out, she didn’t know what to say. All she could do was recognize—that in pursuit of an easy life, she had made things so much worse. She wondered if it was too late to make things right between herself and Koishi. If Kaguya had looked up to her daughter now, and said sorry, would she hear? Would she care?
She wasn’t sure. And she wasn’t sure if she wanted to find out.
As she stared at the stars above, Kaguya heard the shuffling of boots displacing the sand. The sounds came in an irregular, halting motion. When it came to a stop, Kaguya lowered her gaze to the figure who stood at the edge of her fire’s light.
A moon rabbit in a pilot suit, all ripped up, tattered, and blackened by combat. In the gaps of her suit, her skin had melted away from severe burns—and froze in place, creating large patches of gangrenous tissue that covered her body. As Kaguya’s eyes drifted downward, she noticed a patch of body that had a view to the other side. Somehow, by some miracle of medicine, the wound remained stable and closed.
Her face was concealed by her helmet, tinted and patterned by a spider web of cracks, but by the way she stood, so still and lopsided, Kaguya had the impression of an empty gaze just behind the facade.
The moon rabbit carried in her left hand a revolver, its chambers empty and on display as the mechanism that connected the grip to the top half of the hung loose. In her other hand, was an ax, splintered in half at the handle from excessive use and its blade caked in a thick layer of blood.
Without a word, the moon rabbit collapsed into a heap by the fire.
Kaguya rushed to the moon rabbit’s side and, upon removing her helmet, froze.
Atonement—she wondered if it was even possible.
Previous Chapter:
Interim Chapter 11

Assasin's Creed Valhalla - Gold Edition - Assasin's Creed 3 Remastered Assasin's Creed Odyssey - Gold Edition - Assasin's Creed Origins - Gold Edition - Batman Telltale Series Batman Enemty Within Batman Arkham Knight - Gotham's Most Wanted DLC only- Bloodborne - Old Hunters DLC only - Call of Duty Black Ops : Cold War - Crossplatform Edition(ps5) - Call of Duty Vanguard Cyberpunk 2077 Dark Souls II Scholar of the First Sin Dark Souls III Demon's Souls Devil May Cry 5 Doom Eternal+ Old gods Dlc Elden Ring Fallout 4 - G.O.T.Y. Edition - Final Fantasy 7 Remake - Ps5 Edition - Ghost of Tsusima Directors Cut God of War III Remastered God of War Ragnarok Ps5 Edition GTA Online Gran Tourismo Sports Hades Horizon Forbidden West - Ps5 Edition - Marvel's Avengers Guardians of the Galaxy Spider-man : Miles Morales Spider-man Remastered Mad max MediEvil Metal Gear Solid V Metro Last Light : Redux Metro Exodus Metro 2033 Redux Persona 5 Strikers - Digital Deluxe Edition - Persona 5 The Royal Resident Evil 2 Resident Evil 3 Resident Evil : Resistance Rayman Legends Ruined King : League of Legends Sekiro : Shadows Die Twice - G.O.T.Y Edition - SOMA Tom Clancy's Division 2 The Last of Us : Part II The Nioh The Nioh 2 The Witcher Goty Edition Tom Clancys ghost Recon Breakpoint - Gold Edition - Xcom War of the Chosen -DLC only- Uncharted : Nathan Drake Collection
These are games that is purchased. I do have every single ps plus game right after september 2021 up untill now, account alsonhas ps plus deluxe for 12.09.2023. I am first and only owner of account.
Discord mute#9432

I wanted to make a game that simulates ghost hunting in a more realistic setting. You cannot die, and the ghosts cannot harm you. It's relaxing but also terrifying (to some people)...a lot of the locations are based (loosely) on real life locations I have visited in my lifetime. The response and the community has been amazing for this game. I would love to hear feedback from anyone who plays these types of games as well!
https://store.steampowered.com/app/1872860/Conrad_Stevensons_Paranormal_PI/

Loadouts need to have more names besides Strikes/Crucible/Alpha/Raids etc….
I feel like every word that deals with the subclass verbs as well as every weapon type should be an option for names for loadouts such as

• Volatile
• Unravel
• Suspend
• Shotgun
• Glaive
• Amplified
• Scorch
• Freeze
• SMG
• Shatter
• Grenade/Melee

Even the Super name should be options for loadout names. Also I would love if we could pick more than one word. Grenade Volatile for instance.
There should be a lot more icons as well. All the foundries, all the emblems we’ve collected, all the locations/expansion icons should be available to use.

Hi 👋 I'm Alex. 22, bi, enjoys dark humor, memes, sarcasm, and tech. I'm looking for a PSN and/or Discord pal. Lately I've been playing MW2. I'm usually up late.
I also like: Uncharted, Fallout, Tomb Raider, Ghost Recon, No Man's Sky, Genshin Impact, Planetside 2, Asassin's Creed.
I am down to play Fortnite no builds if that's more your style.
I'm a little bit silly. But take tactics and communication seriously when it comes to MW2.
Dm me if interested, or have any questions! May the force be with you.

Greetings, Huntsmen, Huntresses, and gender neutral Hunters! Welcome to another week of writing prompts! If you are new here, this is a community-driven weekly event, and the purpose is primarily to generate creativity and have fun while doing so (whether you are a 100% real-meat person or not, we don't judge).

If you missed the news, /RWBY and the discord both have new moderators! Be sure to give them all a warm welcome! :)

What will be involved Special Note for Spoilers!:

Each week, three RWBY-related topics will be posted (subject to ties and special events!). Participants can write a short piece of fiction or dialogue based on that prompt. When writing, the suggestion is to aim for 1k-3k words, however, this is not a requirement. There is no goal - this is not a popularity contest - just write and have fun! If you have any questions, feel free to ask! :)
SPOILERS:
You may write spoilers for the most recent episode into your works. However, we ask that you treat it like NSFW entries and post elsewhere (FFN, wattpad, etc.), link to it here, and provide proper warnings, okay? Great! <3

Rules (gore, NSFW, spoilers etc.)

The rules are the same as the sub's posting guidelines. Nobody here wants to see your story taken down, so please refer to them before contributing! If someone chooses to ignore these rules, the post will be removed.

Additional information

Pre-writing is welcome! /rwbyprompts is a sub with writing as a focus - there you will find an archive of all the threads as well as a somewhat fleshed-out wiki with odds and ends. :) A detailed spreadsheet of WPW things is here! Keep in mind that this houses a lot of the old prompts, but it also has links and things like early participation to previous WPW threads. We're trying this whole week-to-week thing in the face of the bajillion prompts we had built up. We might do something with them, or people might cycle them back in, who knows what could happen??
Find us on Discord at The Qrow's Nest! The permanent invite has been deleted due to Discord bot shenanigans, so dm shand if you want an invite!

The Prompts!:

This week is dedicated to Spring Break, which means we're going freeform! The theme is obviously every student's favorite time of year - write what you like (but try to behave yourselves haha!)

Next Week's Poll:

The annual Spring Break Beach episode is on, so we're still on last week's poll! :)
The Poll!

Last Week:

Some of the older threads keep getting updates - if you spotted a to be continued, you might wanna go back and have a peek! ;)
The [thread]()
The Prompts:

• Team RWBY always gets the lowest scores on "survival and evasion" exercises. Finally, somebody from another team has to explain that a trail of wanton destruction isn't evasion.
• The Rwby crew (can include villains or not) play among us.
• Yang's arm gets a Prosthetic Yang to replace the Yang it lost.

Alternate-Secondary Prompts:

• An AU where Pyrrha is Jaune's childhood friend.
• Pyrrha's ghost possesses Ruby so she could interact with Jaune. (Nothing "unsafe" happens, though)
• The tragic story of a young huntress (or huntsman), the ravenous horde of Grimm (s)he has fallen in love with, and the disapproving society keeping them apart.
• Team WTCH abridges a RWBY episode of your choice (btw the comment isnt stickied).
• The history of SDC corporate branding.
• RWBY/HI FI RUSH Crossover!
• Rather than be inspired by Qrow, Ruby instead bases her weapon(s) and combat style off of a different scythe wielder (not necessarily from the RWBY-verse).
• Top GeaGrand Tour Remnant Special, featuring Yang Xiao Long. Hilarity ensues, as is the usual for Top GeaGrand Tour.
• Young Maria going for tryouts at Haven Academy.
• One character has something in their teeth, and another JUST. CAN'T. STOP. STARING at it.
• JN_R visits the neighborhood where Pyrrha grew up.
• Yang finds a Terran main battle tank. Chaos ensues.
• When Crocea Mors was created, a soul was born in it. This secret is known by the Arc Family only, with the exception of Jaune. So when the sword reawakened, it introduced itself to Jaune while in front to Team JNPR.

Upcoming Events:

Next week is Spring Break!

Important Stuff and Things!

I have managed to rescue /RWBYFanfiction from an untimely demise! If you would like to share your fanfic or make recommendations, head on over there! I know that I've said something special was coming for this, but Ruby on Rails is hard and not cheap to operate. The fanfiction indexer that I was trying to set up just isn't working and probably needs someone with more experience in RoR programming/design. I haven't completely put it to bed, but it might be a while before I can circle back to it. In the meantime, the fanfic sub has actually had a decent amount of postings - head on over and say hi! :)
No matter how bad things may get, words will always have meaning. Now get out there and write something, but most importantly, have fun! :)

Has anyone here proposed of or heard about a Lost role playing game (RPG), using a dice rolling system? Ahead of time, I apologize for the geekery. I'm just curious to know if this topic has ever been discussed before. There are aspects to the settings and characters that would make for a very functional RPG. It's common for TV shows to exploit this, because franchise rights translate well to game applications. This is just off the top of my head, but I've been also thinking about it for a while. Since there likely will never be any further franchise production, I think it would be interesting to continue the story with fans using new characters in new locations.
The settings are simple enough, because they possess characteristics of a traditional RPG. Items that serve as resources like food or materials for crafting, weapons and even puzzle pieces that could allow players to unlock mysteries elsewhere later. Characters would need to go to the Black Rock first in order to access the hatch, for example.
Characters have distinct traits as well, with various skill sets and other advantages/disadvantages based on their backgrounds that could make them more useful in some situations and vulnerable in others. The usual traits would exist (strength, intelligence, reflexes, agility, speed, endurance) along with a given set of hit points in each character based on their class.
Skills might include:
- leadership (Jack, John, Ben, Ana Lucia, etc.)
- medicine (Jack, Juliet)
- marksmanship (Sayid, Kate, Ana Lucia, etc.)
- hand-to-hand combat (Sayid, John, Jack, Kate, etc.)
- tracking (Kate, John, Sayid...)
- driving (Hurley, Kate, Ben)
- boating (Desmond, Michael, Sawyer, Jin)
- hunting/fishing/botany (Jin, John, Sun)
- maps revealed (Ben, Danielle, John)
- engineering (Michael, Daniel, Stuart)
- language (Sun, Juliet, Sayid...)
- lock picking (Kate, Sayid, Sawyer)
- con man (Sawyer, Ben, MiB, Kate)
I could think of a dozen more, but you get the idea.
These skill sets could be categorized into character classes, such as "survivor, man of science/faith, killer. One class that I invented was the lucky charm. Someone with no helpful skills but bring extreme luck to a scenario, like Charlie, Claire, Miles or Hurley. Rare enough individuals fit this type, and perhaps while they can't do much, they're given breaks that other characters wouldn't. Hapless would-be victims that stumble backwards into secrets. They also seem to stick together whenever possible, like Hobbits.
Supernatural or clairvoyance powers could also be granted to key players during a campaign by the GM (with or without their knowledge).
- marked as "candidate" (Jack, et al.)
- telepathy (Walt)
- longevity (Albert)
- access to relics (Ben, Richard, Dogen)
- access to Dharma (Ben, Juliet, Sawyer, Others, etc.)
- ability to see ghosts (Hurley)
- ability to sense a corpse's final thoughts (Miles)
- impervious to electromagnetism (Desmond)
All characters should have backstories that come with drawbacks as well. Criminal or life-threatening situations, careefamily issues, or even health problems that can't be resolved.
Dice rolling would involve D10s and D20s.
So what do any of you think about this idea? Is this something you would like to try someday? Is this something someone has already tried? I'd like some feedback on this.

If you’re like me and you’ve played all the new fallout games to death, I cannot recommend Metro Exodus highly enough. It’s a different game of course, but I feel that it captures the much more serious side of the Fallout world. I’ve only finished about ten percent of the game so far, but I’ve noticed some key similarities and differences from an average Fallout experience:
Similarities:
-Setting is a post-apocalyptic world inhabited by mutated monsters and human bandits
-Incredibly compelling storyline and characters. If you thought you liked your spouse in Fallout 4, just wait til you meet your wife Anna. I’m a straight woman and I think I’m in love with her.
-Open world full of unique locations to discover
-Customizable weapons which need to be repaired, and you have to scrounge for materials and upgrades
-Super tense and horror-y environment. I quite literally jumped out of my seat the first time I was attacked by a “ghoul” like creature
Differences:
-No character dialogue. This was the biggest difference for me, as your character never speaks (though others speak to him), so no opportunities to choose different options.
-no character customization or morality. You play as the soldier Artyom, and so far you can’t deviate too much from the character the story wants. There are small choices you can make, like killing bandits who surrender or ignoring hostages, but no real chances to be evil.
-Not particularly funny. There have been one or two moments I’ve chuckled at, but it’s definitely not going for cheeky humor. It’s a serious game that really makes you take it seriously.
I would love to hear if any other Fallout fans have played Metro Exodus and what your thoughts are! (Please keep the comments spoiler free as I haven’t finished the game yet)!

In regards to assumptions about Amanda's fate post this week's story mission....
No, not everyone who dies should be resurrected. Yes, Amanda died a hero. She was brave, devoted to a cause, and sacrificed herself for the sake of others. That doesn't automatically mean she'll be resurrected, nor that she should be.
First, that's the cruelty of life. Both in reality and Destiny. Heroes die, and eventually all that's left is their memory. It's both a burden and a relief to those that carry the memory. On one hand, we're left full of grief and loss. On the other, we're inspired by that bravery, that devotion. In the face of overwhelming odds, certain danger, and likely fatal consequences they still chose to venture into danger knowing they may not return. Often the cruelest fates happen to those least deserving, but just because there's the easy out of "she can be resurrected by a Ghost" doesn't mean it should happen. It would undermine the risk and the sacrifice made, sending the message that there are no consequences for bravery. That life can be taken for granted since death can be so easily undone. That's the irony of Guardians, until we lose our Little Light and end up like Cayde. Six feet under.
Second, this being a more personal opinion, that would be dumb considering the already abundant cast of characters in Destiny. This season we already have Devrim, Mara, Mithrax, Crow, Amanda(or rather had), with special appearances from Zavala(RIP Lance I'm still crying inside), Caiatl, Asher(technically) and Eramis. Not too mention this was accompanied by Lightfall with Osiris, Nimbus, a little bit of Rohan, more Caiatl, Quinn and the other couple Neomuna citizens we interact with. Oh, and us + our Ghost. I don't really count us though has we have so little involvement beyond shooting the shit out of everything and being forced to listen to everyone's monologue for hours at a time.
I'll admit, not every character needs to be actively involved in the story every single season, but lets just count them up. We have not seen Saint, Elsi, Ana, Eido, Eris, Drifter, Ikora, or Saladin. Not too mention Fynch hasn't been involved at all since Witch Queen and Failsafe is entirely uninvolved in anything at all. Ada was teased to possibly have a story beat when Bungie briefly mentioned the opportunity to reprise Black Armory weapons a while back, but we have yet to see anything of it. Banshee and Shaxx are more or less vendors with the rare speaking role, Shaw Han is the new light babysitter so he doesn't really count I guess. Spider is around when he needs to be, same with Petra I guess. Aaand that's about it, I think?
We didn't have many antagonists to balance the scales before, but now with 3 Disciples down that leaves the Witness, Xivu, the Vex, and maybe Clovis. Eramis and Savathun currently remain ambiguous in their roles but they're obviously not our friends. My point being, there are lot of characters as is. It's difficult to develop so many and keep the audience interested at the same time, so losing at least one for good is likely the better outcome.

I'm averse to PvP and competitive games most of the time and I just want to unwind in peace. I like anything co-operative, I'm a huge shooter fan (tactical or otherwise), action, RPG, survival, MMO, tabletop/card, anything non-sweatlord. I am mostly willing to buy any multiplayer game that is not on Epic (also no horror) and I have PC Game Pass. I work at home and intermittently in meetings in the afternoon and early evenings, but otherwise free until 10PM.
I am well aware the current active gaming crowd tends to lean young, combined with my mild introversion, this would all be less awkward in a larger group of 3 to 4 people. I can vibe with most people who are not overly serious.
This is me teetering between willing and unwilling to play with complete strangers 😅😩😰
Games I almost always have installed:

• Deep Rock Galactic (my rank is Lord of the Deep)
• Insurgency: Sandstorm (vanilla or ISMC)
• Vermintide 2/Darktide
• Monster Hunter: Rise (but I am rusty)
• Bloons TD 6

Games I have been playing recently:

• Ghost Recon: Breakpoint
• Overcooked 2
• Mechwarrior 5: Mercenaries
• World War Z: Aftermath
• PowerWash Simulator

Games I would play in a largecomplete group:

• Barotrauma
• Sons of the Forest
• Borderlands 2/3 (I have practically no progress)
• Gloomhaven/Demeo/Tabletop Simulator
• Heliborne (god why is nobody playing this anymore)
• Grounded/Minecraft/Valheim/AstroneeConan/Satisfactory/Raft/etc

Games I play that are technically multiplayer but nobody is ever into them:

• SnowRunner
• Farming Simulator 22
• Construction Simulator
• MS Flight SimulatoEuro Truck Simulator 2/American Truck Simulator (but it's super hassle to set up peripherals)

Games that are technically PvP but it's just memes and people screaming:

• Holdfast: Nations at War
• Chivalry 2

We often hear of ghost shows faking their programs in locations said to be „haunted“. Are there any scientists, such as on Youtube channels, that go to these locations to investigate them?

***Apocalyptic Utopia ***
A server with tough zombies and tougher survivors!
Server IP: 142.0.196.76 Local IP: 142.0.196.76 Port: 27240
No Password and Whitelist required! Join our chill discord at; https://discord.gg/8HjdZavV No rules as long as you are a good human being! (in game pvp aren't harassments)
Server runs 24/7 Friendly and chill group Some features includes:
-Double the number of zombies you would see in a normal game!
-Stronger Zombies are found!
-10 free trait points on start!
-Armed AOE Melee turned on, Unarmed attacks available!
-Loads of armor and weapons (Brita and more!)
-Fire turned off Except for campfires.
-More traits and Traits Scaled and tuned up, (Positive and Negative Traits are more balanced and effective on Players).
-PvP can be turned on by players if they choose.
-Way more Vehicle and Map locations to explore.
-Better customization and cosmetics from different mods.
-Bases and SafeHouses are claimable on the first day in the game, safe online and offline (no trespassing unless invited!) Cannot claim Non-Residential Buildings.
-Blood stains will be cleared within 1 game day (no worry for cleanliness).
-Full shop and Economy system, set up your own shop!
*** Discord x Game Chat enabled! Talk with your in-game friends on discord!***
Fun and rewarding events include;
[Extra Traits] [Rare Cosmetics] [Supplies] [Weapon/Armor] [Titles]
^Faithful duel ^Zombie-Killing-race ^Utopian Speed Demon ^Hide and seek ^Escorts and convoys
We welcome every survivor spawning!

This is my trade list it's got weapons,armor,and plans,etc
FIXERS
Exe50c25
Exe15v
Mu50c25
Exe15v
Ari50c25
Jug50c25
Noc50c25
Tse15rl
Med2525
F2525
RAILWAY RIFLES
Ste15rl
Ve90
RADIUM'S
HANDMADES
V50VHC25
V50C15RL
Q50C GHOST
ARI50C15C
BRE15RL
HEAVY WEAPONS
Mu50vhc25 agl
Exe50 .50 cal
MELEES
Bss50break bear arm
Mss1s powerfist
Jss1a chainsaw
Cursed sickle (vss1e)
Mss90 chainsaw
Exess15ldwb chainsaw
Jugss1s power drill
Aass90 power fist
Jugss50b chainsaw
J40pa1s chainsaw
Jss25v chainsaw
Supss1s chainsaw
ARMOR
Bol/ap/sent heavy combat armor limb
Bol/ap ult LL *2
Bol/ap/sent xo-1 LA
Bol/1p/wwr combat armor RA
Bol/H& T10%SLOWEwwr marine LA
Bol/1p/wwr marine LL
Ext/7ed/sent FSA LL
x2 excavator jetpack torsos
Mu/7ed/awr excavator torso
Noc/ap/wwr combat armor chest
Oe/ap/energy heavy robot LA
Oe/ap/break50 heavy raider RL
Oe/25Rcav USA RA
Oe/25EDawr sturdy robot LL
Regen/ap/sneak Marine RL
Uny/1L/jwr heavy leather LA
Uny/1int/lockpick sturdy metal chest
APPERAL
Emmett mountain hazmat suit x2
AID
x65 buffout
x11 bufftats
x24 day tripper
x19 fury
x48 G&B 9
x51 med-x
x50 canned coffee
x62 leader bobbleheads
x80 grape mentats
x52 L&L 3's
x150 mentats
x68 orange mentats
x33 scouts life 3
x296 stimpaks
PLANS
animatronic clown
Backpack lead lined
Bed of nails
Fire station bell
Hula hoop
Pitch fork flamer
Safari gorilla
Wanamingo plushi
AB cryo mag x2
AB poison mag x2
Alien corpse operation bed
Antique globe of Mars x3
Astroid
Bear arm
Brahmin plushi
Cryo bed x2
Grafton monster lamp x2
Junkyard fountain
Marine armor helm x2
Mutated goldfish x2
Plastic fruit bowl
Radstag hunting knife x2
Rust eagle banner x4
Safari crocolossus backpack
Scorched tube
Strong man super sledge paint
Tattered curtains x2
WV state bird rug
Bear arm heavy mod
Vault 76 rug

Let’s face it: we’ve all been there. You’re on vacation, finally getting some much-needed R&R, and all you want to do is binge-watch your favorite shows on Netflix. But when you try to log in, you’re met with a dreaded message: “This content is not available in your country.”
What’s a dedicated Netflix junkie to do? Enter the VPN, the trusty tool that promises to unlock a world of content, no matter where you are in the world. But as many of us have discovered, not all VPNs are created equal when it comes to bypassing Netflix’s geo-restrictions.
So I took it upon myself to test out a bunch of VPNs to see which ones would give me the most bang for my buck. And let me tell you, it was not a pretty sight. Most VPNs were no match for Netflix’s VPN blocks, and the few that did manage to slip through were painfully slow.
But fear not, my fellow couch potatoes, for I have found the holy grail of Netflix-friendly VPNs. These gems not only allow you to access Netflix from anywhere, but they also deliver lightning-fast speeds and won’t break the bank. So go forth, my friends, and stream to your heart’s content.
ExpressVPN
Let’s be real: Netflix is life. And if you’re like me, you’ll do whatever it takes to get your fix, even if it means using a VPN to access the juiciest libraries from around the world. But not all VPNs are created equal, and as someone who’s been burned by my fair share of unreliable services, I’m here to tell you that ExpressVPN is the only VPN you need for streaming in 2023.
First off, ExpressVPN is the real deal when it comes to unblocking Netflix. Not only does it work seamlessly with the US library (my personal favorite), but it can also access libraries in the UK, Japan, and 10+ other countries. So whether you’re in the mood for a British crime drama or a quirky Japanese rom-com, ExpressVPN has got you covered.
And the best part? You won’t have to deal with annoying buffering or slow loading times. ExpressVPN’s lightning-fast speeds mean that Netflix loads instantly and HD and 4K videos never buffer, even when you’re skipping through them. In fact, ExpressVPN is the fastest VPN on the market, so you can say goodbye to any buffering or lagging issues.
But ExpressVPN isn’t just great for Netflix. It also works with over 100 other streaming services, including BBC iPlayer, HBO Max, Disney+, and Amazon Prime. And if you’re using a device that doesn’t support VPN apps (like certain smart TVs or gaming consoles), ExpressVPN’s MediaStreamer feature is a lifesaver. While it does require a manual setup, the process is easy and straightforward thanks to the provider’s helpful tutorials.
And let’s not forget about security and privacy. ExpressVPN has a strict no-logs policy that has been audited multiple times, so you can rest assured that your data is safe. Plus, with advanced security features like full leak protection and perfect forward secrecy, ExpressVPN is one of the most secure VPNs out there. And its Threat Manager feature blocks connections to malicious sites, so you won’t fall prey to any fake Netflix websites.
But what really sets ExpressVPN apart is its user-friendly interface. The provider has apps for all major platforms (including routers), and they’re all intuitive and easy to navigate. And with the Shortcuts feature, you can create 1-click shortcuts for specific apps and sites, so you can get instant access to Netflix after connecting to a VPN server.
So, if you’re serious about your Netflix binges (and let’s be real, who isn’t?), do yourself a favor and get ExpressVPN. It’s the only VPN you need for streaming in 2023.
Private Internet Access
Let’s be honest: we all know that feeling of frustration when we’re trying to access Netflix from abroad and we’re met with a message saying our favorite show isn’t available in our current location. But fear not, my friends, because Private Internet Access (PIA) is here to save the day with its easy-to-use and secure VPN.
First off, PIA’s iOS and Android apps are a dream come true for mobile users. The interface is intuitive and mobile-friendly, and it only takes a few taps to connect to the provider’s streaming servers. Plus, with helpful explanations for all settings and features, even VPN newbies can feel confident using PIA. And the automation scenarios? Genius. You can set it up to automatically connect to a server when you’re on Wi-Fi, so you never have to worry about accidentally accessing Netflix on an unsecured network.
And speaking of Netflix, PIA’s streaming servers can access 5+ popular libraries, including the US, Italy, and Germany. I had my colleagues test the VPN in each European country and they confirmed that it worked with their home libraries without any issues. And if you’re not in the mood for Netflix, PIA also works with 30+ other popular streaming platforms like BBC iPlayer, ITV, and Disney+. While it’s not quite as comprehensive as ExpressVPN’s streaming support, it’s still pretty darn impressive.
But let’s talk about speeds, baby. In my speed tests, PIA delivered lightning-fast streaming speeds. Netflix’s site always loaded instantly, and HD and 4K videos never buffered, even when I was skipping through them. And while ExpressVPN did have slightly better speeds, PIA’s split-tunneling feature was a game-changer. With the ability to split-tunnel IP addresses as well as apps, you can route traffic from Netflix’s site through the VPN while still accessing other sites using your local network. Genius.
Of course, we can’t forget about security and privacy. PIA is a top-tier VPN provider when it comes to security features. With RAM-only servers, perfect forward secrecy, and full leak protection, you can rest easy knowing your data is safe. Plus, PIA’s no-logs policy has been audited and proven in court, and its apps are open-source, so anyone can inspect the code for security issues. And if you’re tired of annoying ads while streaming, PIA MACE is the best VPN ad blocker on the market, so you can say goodbye to malicious sites that try to mimic Netflix.
And finally, with unlimited simultaneous connections, you can stream to your heart’s content on all your devices. I tested this out with my own household (8 total devices) and we all had a reliable connection.
So if you’re in the market for an easy and secure VPN for streaming Netflix, look no further than Private Internet Access.
CyberGhostVPN
Let’s be real: there’s nothing better than a lazy Sunday spent binge-watching your favorite shows on Netflix. But if you’re traveling abroad or living in a country with a limited content library, you might be out of luck...unless you have CyberGhostVPN.
This provider has dedicated Netflix servers for 15+ libraries, including popular ones like the US, France, and Canada. And the best part? CyberGhostVPN’s apps are super intuitive and easy to use. Plus, its Smart Rules feature lets you automate VPN connections, so you can have the VPN automatically open the Netflix app after you connect to one of its Netflix servers. Talk about convenience.
But CyberGhostVPN isn’t just great for Netflix. Its streaming support is top-notch, with streaming servers that work with 50+ other platforms, including BBC iPlayer, Rai Play, DAZN, and Amazon Prime. And if you’re using a device that doesn’t support VPN apps, CyberGhostVPN’s smart DNS has got you covered.
And let’s not forget about speed. While CyberGhostVPN isn’t quite as fast as ExpressVPN or Private Internet Access, it still delivered impressive streaming speeds in my tests. Netflix’s site loaded instantly, and HD and 4K videos loaded within seconds, with only minor buffering when skipping through the videos.
But what really sets CyberGhostVPN apart is its reliability. With dedicated Netflix servers and an intuitive interface, you won’t have to worry about any annoying hiccups or crashes while you’re in the middle of a binge-watching session.
So if you’re looking for a reliable VPN for binge-watching Netflix (and let’s be real, who isn’t?), give CyberGhostVPN a try. Your future self will thank you.
NordVPN
You know what they say: when in doubt, NordVPN it out. This VPN claims to access 10+ Netflix libraries, and with its smart DNS and SmartPlay features, it’s a great option for secure streaming.
Setting up the smart DNS only takes 5-6 minutes if you follow the provider’s tutorials, and the SmartPlay feature combines VPN security features like encryption with smart DNS functionality. This makes it harder for Netflix to detect and block the provider’s VPN servers, and it also means your data is secure while streaming. Plus, with NordVPN’s encryption, your data is protected in a way that smart DNS tools alone can’t provide.
And NordVPN isn’t just great for Netflix. It also works with 10+ other streaming services, including BBC iPlayer, Hulu, Amazon Prime, and Disney+. While it’s not quite as comprehensive as ExpressVPN’s streaming support, it’s still a solid option for variety.
But let’s talk about speed. In my tests, NordVPN delivered decent streaming speeds. Netflix’s site usually loaded within a few seconds, and HD and 4K videos loaded within a few seconds as well, although there was some buffering when skipping through them. That being said, ExpressVPN provided much faster speeds.
Of course, security and privacy are paramount when it comes to VPNs. And NordVPN delivers on both fronts with advanced features like RAM-only servers, full leak protection, and perfect forward secrecy. Plus, its strict no-logs policy has been independently audited multiple times, so you can rest easy knowing your data isn’t being collected or sold.
So, if you’re in need of a solid VPN for secure Netflix streaming, NordVPN is a good choice. While it may not be the fastest or have the most comprehensive streaming support, its smart DNS and encryption make it a reliable option.
Surfshark
If you’re looking for a VPN with a massive server network and smart features for Netflix streaming, Surfshark has got you covered. With servers in over 100 countries, it’s easy to connect to a server in your home country to access your local Netflix library. And with the provider claiming to access 15+ Netflix libraries, including the US, UK, Brazil, and Japan, you’ll never be short on options. Plus, Surfshark also comes with a smart DNS, adding an extra layer of convenience.
But what really sets Surfshark apart are its smart features. For Android users, the Override GPS Location feature matches your GPS data with the location of the VPN server you’re connected to, making it harder for Netflix’s mobile app to detect and block your VPN connection. Talk about clever.
And Surfshark isn’t just great for Netflix. It can also access 50+ other streaming platforms, including BBC iPlayer, HBO Max, DAZN, and Amazon Prime. While it doesn’t work with Disney+ (like the other VPNs on this list), its unlimited connections feature is a major plus, making it easy to stream on all of your devices.
When it comes to speed, Surfshark delivers pretty decent streaming speeds. In my tests, Netflix’s site loaded in 1-2 seconds, and HD and 4K videos loaded within a few seconds with only minor buffering at the start. However, it’s worth noting that both ExpressVPN and Private Internet Access provided faster speeds.
How to Score a VPN Home Run for Netflix in 2023
Are you tired of getting blocked by Netflix while trying to access your favorite content from abroad? The solution is a VPN that can bypass Netflix’s blocks and give you access to multiple Netflix libraries. Here are my tips for choosing the best VPNs for Netflix in 2023:
Make sure the VPN works with Netflix: Netflix is a tough cookie to crack, but all of the VPNs on my list are able to access Netflix consistently.
Look for a VPN that can access multiple Netflix libraries: Some VPNs can only access a few libraries, but my top picks can access at least 5 libraries, and my favorite NordVPN, can access 10+.
Choose a VPN that also has good streaming support: You probably use more than just Netflix, so look for a VPN that can also access other popular platforms, like BBC iPlayer or Amazon Prime.
Pick a provider with fast speeds: Slow streaming can be a real buzzkill, so make sure you get a VPN that can deliver smooth streaming on Netflix.
Get a VPN with strong security features: Your data should be protected, so choose a VPN with industry-standard VPN security features and a no-logs policy.
Look for a VPN with good value: All of my top picks come with extra features that are useful for streaming on Netflix, and they also have affordable plans and generous money-back guarantees.
By following these tips, you’ll be able to score a VPN home run for Netflix in 2023!

Pharaoh Ramses II had 129 children, and there is a tale that one day he gathered them and asked them, “Which one among you thinks they resemble me the most?” All of them, girls and boys, answered in a chorus “Me!” The notables around the Pharaoh started laughing, but the Pharaoh calmly told his children that they were all right: “You all resemble me. I am in all of you. So, go and fill the world. Create your clans, your tribes, create your own language but remember that you have admitted that you all resemble me".
tldr: Theres quite a bit of information that id like to share & its counterproductive to split up into 2 threads. Here is the account of the Sages who came to help the human race after disaster. Dont get worked up, These werent aliens. They were men who were treated as Gods AFTER theyd lived life in service to their fellow man. Let me state that Im a native West African keeper of the record of the people whos spent over a decade in the US. We require a modern AND traditional education. Theres no such thing as black or white to us. I despise Afrocentrist as much as the next person, i hate being lumped with who i consider racists more than anything. We don't teach Africa is the center of anything nor the cradle of civilization, its Australia. Also, time being linear is nonsense its cyclical such as the seasons. We worship ancestors, because they had the knowledge.. We don't look at the ancient civilizations of Egypt, Mesoamerica as inferior technologically nor do we consider civilization in 2023 'advanced technologically' ...
I wanna share the accurate indigenous wisdom traditions of the Sages that are referenced and stylized in every corner of the globe. These are the statues you see every where from Gobekli Tepe, Easter Island, to the Maori Islands..The Ahu akivi, Shesh or Shakti, the Tiki, etc megaliths who place their hands on their navels. These are who we indigenous consider our ancestors worthy of praise, the Gods as you'd say. But don't project Western beliefs onto our cultures, these were HUMAN BEINGS. They were deified AFTER they passed away. Osiris, Horus, Isis were all from a race of people Flinders Petrie discovered physical evidence of called Aunu. The Book of the Dead tells you about Osiris/Anu.. Kings of Tera neter
F.Petrie History of Egypt -Aunu Earliest civilization The first Kings who were the 'Wise Men from the Upper Nile were known as Aunu. (Google Ainu or Aunu people youll find them in every nook & cranny across the globe. In Louisiana as well as in Japan, and Sumer) There has been discoveries from much earlier than the accepted predynastic period that shows these people had domesticated animals & were using tools for agriculture Long before the accepted period. Heres a list of published works or scientific discoveries that most may not be familiar with. Also, the works of some of the fathers of Western Egyptology 1890s Emile , Project Gutenberg-T Mospero
The most fascinating civilizations of antiquity all show that they digressed as time went on, they didnt advance as youd think. The Oldest pyramid used Granite, basalt, Diodirite, the recent discovery in Mexico shows that the Mesoamericans were at their peak the further back we go.Egypt: Those long reigns like most of the cultures of our ancestors SHOULDNT BE TAKEN LITERALLY. "The simplest explanation " is why so little is known about humanitys past. The ancient people of Egypt would say “he died aged 110” which referred to someone who lived life to the full and who offered an important contribution to society.
The most advanced human beings were the demigods of Sumer-Apkallu, 9 unknown Men-India, 7Sages -Greek, Ahu Akivi, Egypt-Shemsu Hor Today, Neb(High Priest) Manetho is considered the leading authority on Egypt and tells us during Zep Tepi They were “divine beings who knew how the temples and sacred places were to be created.” The Sages were divine survivors of a previous cataclysm who made a new beginning. Originally, they came from an island – the Homeland of the Primeval Ones --the majority of whose divine inhabitants were drowned. Arriving in Egypt, the survivors became “the builder Gods, who fashioned in the primeval time, the Lords of Light . . . the Ghosts, the Ancestors . . . who raised the seed for gods and men . . . the Senior Ones who came into being at the beginning, who illumined this land when they came forth unitedly Aswan obelisk - Elephantine
The Egyptian people didn't necessarily have a name for their civilization before the Shemsu Hor(Companions/People/Followers of Horus) arrived, they would call themselves 42 Tribes of 'Sesh', because they'd come from 42 different directions. A true meltingpot, where survivors gathered together from about every race you can name. After the they then refer to themselves as Sheshu hor , "the people of the realized man"
Pharoah is from the Per-Ra, which youd probably say means house of Ra the Sun God. While true the word Ra had eventually begun to be used to denote the Sun-God in early dynastic periods, it was not yet designed as a proper name for the deity but rather a quality, or more correctly, an epithet. It initially meant “shining,” “brightness” or “light bringer one that shines high above"The Shining House”. We should remember here that the word Per (house) also meant dynasty in the Ancient Egyptian language (just like in some Western languages) as well as a physical building. Hence, the word Per-Ra actually points at a special group of people, like “the shining dynasty” or “the bright rulers.” The three pyramids of Giza were aligned in a pattern which was a perfect reflection of the stars in Orion’s Belt in 10,450 B.C., when Orion was at its closest to the southern horizon in the 25,900- year cycle of the precession of the equinoxes. Dhejuty was the King & the sacred knowledge was kept by the priestly elites /7 sages known as Shemsu Hor or ,"The Followers of Horus”. They used the heavens as a Legominism, taken from the sunken land theyd arrived from which used the stars as a means of passing and preserving knowledge down through time’s "inherent, law-conformable distortions".
The thread i made a week or so ago gives accounts from many ancient historians on how the Giza pyramid were thousands of years older than accepted. Josephus says they were built by Sons of Seth & youll see later that Petrie'Father of modern Egyptology ' found the Sons of Seth. (Plutarch mentions Hermes 'the 8'... him and the 7 sages he brought) Cedrenus' account says "Enoch(Thoth, Hermes, Dhejuty)foreseeing the destruction of the Earth, had inscribed the science of astronomy upon two pillars". The god of intelligence of the Egyptians was Thoth, Hermes was what the Sabians called him. Hermes was, however, called the son of Seth, and this deity is in some sense to be identified with Thoth(Tau). The Christian cross is based off the Tau ("take up your cross & walk") Jesus( Issa) was saying to remove the illusion of self. The Ego, look inside for your divine nature. I detail the Tau symbol & T shaped pillars of Gobekli Tepe, the Puma Punku site is TShaped , sites like the Ki Va of SouthW US Indians.. we are 1 people, there's no such thing as race.
In a passage of the Book of the Dead, the he has the name Tet. The oldest accounts of travel to Giza, is the Arab star-worshippers mentioned above "Sabians of Harran".. they were already traveling to leave offerings at the Giza pyramid in 1,730 - 1,575 BC.
Paleolithic burial of modern human Taramsa Hill Egypt
The Sumerian kings list mentioned the Kushite being the location that civilization restarted after the cataclysm that had destroyed the island mentioned above. The 3 sons of the King who is mentioned by the Aztec, Rapa Nui, that were sent out as Emissaries are the same 3 sons of Noah in the Bible. In support of the Sumerian claims about The Kush is the Earliest writing Dr Dreyer in a tomb in Abydos.
The Papyrus of Hunefer or Ani states the very same that Diodorus & Herodotus did much later. "We came from the beginning of the Nile where God Hapi dwells, at the foothills of The Mountains of the Moon" Diodorus Siculus Ethiopians were the first men that ever lived, the only truly autochthonous race and the first to institute the worship of the gods and the rites of sacrifice. Egypt itself was a colony of Ethiopia and the laws and script of both lands were naturally the same; but the hieroglyphic script was more widely known to the vulgar in Ethiopia than in Egypt. (Diodorus Siculus, bk. iii, ch. 3.) This knowledge of writing was universal in Ethiopia but was confined to the priestly classes alone in Egypt. This was because the Egyptian priesthood was Ethiopian. The highly developed Merodic inscriptions are not found in Egypt north of the first cataract or in Nubia south of Soba. These are differences we would expect to find between a colony and a parent body. Herodotus (bk. ii, p. 29) Homer and Herodotus call all the peoples of the Sudan, Egypt, Arabia, Palestine and Western Asia and India Ethiopians.”
During the invasions the bloodlines in charge of the highest echelons of knowledge decided to migrate from the Itoure(nile River) area in order to preserve the integrity of the knowledge itself. I made a threadon the Hopi migration from Kasskara already, the Maya Chilam (Mouthpiece of the Gods) "Carry your great books into the jungles. Place your histories deeply in caverns where none of these men can find them. Nor do you bring them back to the sunlight until the War-Cycle is over. For these bearded strangers are the children of War. They speak my precepts, but their ears do not listen. They have but one love and that is for weapons. " see, we don't have some imaginary sky daddy. These were all our ancestors who had the knowledge & were God's for what they did for humanity.
When Diodorus Siculus says "This knowledge of writing was universal in Ethiopia but was confined to the priestly classes alone in Egypt. This was because the Egyptian priesthood was Ethiopian" & "Black skinned priests who conferred with red men who we see depicted as GodKings he was talking about my predecessors the "Nabateans". The Sabaean people used an ancient Semitic tongue of their own, Sabaean or Himyaritic, which is what Ethiopian is based on.The 2 bloodlines were my Mande(Malinke-Bambara) lineage & the Gourmantche. To protect the initiations, the Dogon bloodlines decided to no longer build elaborate and grand structures similar to the ones they built in the Nile valley which brought the attention of the invaders... I earned the title of Naba Seri(Neb-Master or Priest) after 15 yr of education in the same teachings of the mystery schools in Botu & Heliopos. We initiates of The Cult of Lebe(the Serpent God of the Dogon(Enki) have always been the Priests while the( 'Rot' Red men) were kings. In Bible theres mention of the Nomadic priests called Nabateans & the children of Isreal only listening to them, same group. Naba comes from Neb, the Egyptian MeduNtr for Priest(https://www.gutenberg.org/files/1397/1397-h/1397-h.htm)
-Raymond Dart- population fluctuation 7000 yr Egypt "Only 1% of pre-dynastic Egyptian skulls are brachycephalic (round or spherical): El Amrah 1% (101 skulls), Nagada, 1.9% (314 skulls), El Badari 0% (79 skulls).
From Dynasty I to VI (Old Kingdom), brachycephaly does also not exceed a single percent. However during the First Intermediate Period of Egypt 2181–2055 BC or Dynasty IX, 11.6% of skulls are brachycephalic or round."
Dr. W. J. Perry refers to it as the Archaic Civilization. Sir Grafton Elliot Smith terms it the Neolithic Heliolithic Culture of the Brunet-Browns. Mr. Wells alludes to this early civilization in his Outline of History, and dates its beginnings as far back as 15,000 years B.C. Elliot Smith called the Heliolithic (sun-stone) culture, included many or all of the following odd practices: (1) Circumcision, (2) the queer custom of sending the father to bed when a child is born, known as Couvade, (3) the practice of Massage, (4) the making of Mummies, (5) Megalithic monuments (i.e. Stonehenge), (6) artificial deformation of the heads of the young by bandages, (7) Tattooing, (8) religious association of the Sun and the Serpent, and (9) the use of the symbol known as the Swastika for good luck. We have ceremonial dolls that have the symbol resembling the Swastika today. Dogon -Dama -Hopi-Kachina It's important that we maintain what our ancestors taught...