Chapter 4: The Dew
We have a new cast member for this chapter! Her name is Molly, and let’s just say she’s the MVP.
It was almost noon when I woke up. Faaaaack! I scrambled to get dressed, slap on a little makeup, put my hair in purple pigtails, ask myself whether I was dolling myself up for FPB or for Axton... Yeah, that was a no-brainer. I engaged in basic some humaning (brushing teeth, applying deodorant, etc.), spritzed on some men’s cologne called Spicebomb (FPB really was kind of right about that), put on my new shoes, and dashed out the door. I looked at my phone to see if I had a missed call or an angry text from FPB. Nope. Good! He must have still been passed out.
I Ubered to FPB’s place to get my car, then I drove back to Sage’s house and parked on the side of the street. There were four Molly Maid vehicles in the driveway. I checked the door. It was unlocked. Was it possible that my absence might have gone unnoticed? As I entered the house, I could hear one of the professional cleaners yelling at Sage. I’ll call her Molly.
Molly: I’m charging you TRIPLE! I had to call in SIX extra girls. We clean up vomit, pee pee, poo poo, and your house smells like a distillery! You are nasty, nasty people!
I was damn near pissing myself laughing. One of the professional cleaners swooped past me, and I felt embarrassed to even be associated with these nasty, nasty people (even though all of them except for FPB had been super nice to me).
I found my way into the kitchen and accidentally interrupted Sage and Athena arguing over who was going to pay the cleaning bill. Sage was in favor of splitting it between the chummers, and Athena was in favor of sticking Mori with the bill since his nasty, nasty rules caused the nasty, nasty mess.
I cleared my throat so it didn’t seem like I was eavesdropping.
Athena: OP! Hey! Where have you been all morning?
Me: I ran home to get some sleep. The snoring was pretty loud...
Athena: I hear ya. We sleep in Sage’s bedroom, but Mori makes all the others sleep in the War Room or on the porch. You might be able to convince him to let you sleep in the guest room tonight?
Me: Isn’t it your house, Sage? I’ll play by your rules.
Sage: Yeah, but Mori’s in charge during Shadowrun weekends.
Damn, this really was starting to feel like a fucking cult. But I still found Mori hella amusing despite all his absurdities.
Me: Hey, guys? How much hell am I about to catch from FPB?
Sage: That would be... none. He’s still passed out in the backyard.
I made my way to the porch. I guess the cleaning crew hadn’t gotten there yet. There were toppled cups, empty liquor bottles, and several piles of puke on the porch; and the distinct scent of boozy pee clashed in an act of olfactory violence with the scent of stale vomit. I didn’t even want to take a single step outside. I was wearing my brand new shoes, after all! But the rest of my outfit was blissfully casual.
FPB’s absurdly formal clothes were draped over the hammock, and he was sprawled across a lawn chair in nothing but his black boxer briefs, snoring like a freight train.
Axton was sitting on a dry patch of the steps that led down to the yard, smoking a cigarette, and drinking what I hoped was coffee. Snorlax was passed out in the inflatable kiddie pool. And Mori was nowhere to be seen. Axton turned around and noticed me. Surely he didn’t remember trying to kiss me the night before. I mean, I kind of hoped that he did... but it would make my life a whole lot easier if he didn’t.
Axton: OP! Where did you run off to after you put us to bed?
Me: I went to sleep.
Axton: Where?
Me: Ummmm...
Axton: I won’t say anything to FPB, don’t worry.
I wanted to believe him. “I went home. I wanted to sleep in my own bed, and I wanted to have my car in case I get tired again. I seriously can’t keep up with you guys.”
Axton: That’s probably not anything to be ashamed of. Wanna come sit? Have a smoke?
I scanned the porch. “I’m not sure where it’s safe to step.”
Axton put his cig in the ashtray and stood up. “Combat boots to the rescue.”
He crossed the porch, picked me up, and carried me to the puke/pee/booze-free step. As he was putting me down his hand very deliberately grazed the length of my spine. Guess he remembered... I couldn’t seem to pull my hand off his shoulder, nor could I seem to take my eyes off his lips. But just then, FPB stirred. And he roared, “UNHAND MY GIRLFRIEND, YOU PIECE OF SHIT!”
He tried to stand, but his tall, hungover ass just withered to the ground.
Me: Good morning! Don’t worry. He was just helping me protect my new shoes.
FPB: So help me, Pretty Boy. If you touch my girlfriend again, I WILL END YOU.
Axton: Just trying to be gentlemanly, buddy. You want some coffee?
FPB grunted.
Axton turned to me. “You want some, too?”
FPB: DO NOT SPEAK TO HER, YOU FUCKING SKIDMARK.
Me: I’m good. I’ll hit Mori up for some coke later on.
Axton laughed and headed to the kitchen.
FPB: YOU WILL NOT GET COKE FROM MORI. I WILL LITERALLY KILL HIS (expletive slur deleted) ASS IF HE GIVES YOU COKE.
Snorlax was stirring in the kiddie pool.
Snorlax: FPB... Chill, bro. Seriously. God damn. You’re gonna pop a vein in your forehead.
Okay, it’s finally time to pause and give you guys some background on my relationship with FPB. It might be mildly triggering for some, so apologies in advance.
He repulsed me at first. I thought he was a snob, I hated his beard, and his circus freak height intimidated me a little. But he managed to humanize himself. He feigned vulnerability. He was attentive and affectionate (at first). And when we finally went on a proper date, it was actually pretty romantic. Plus, he had cool Bioshock tattoos! I wouldn’t find out about his Shadowrun tramp stamp until a bit later.
And I felt like I was gaining some maturity by looking past the unsightly beard, the constantly furrowed brow, and the shocking amount of time he spent standing on the most random soapboxes one could possibly imagine. I’ll also shoehorn in the fact that he had been “dating” a possessive, obsessive legbeard and I found myself feeling like a white knight for helping him out of that annoying situationship.
FPB’s triumphant, and probably fabricated, stories of his past facilitated empathy. He had dropped out of college to join the Peace Corps. He once pulled over to save a child from a burning vehicle. He had been bullied in middle school for being the only boy in the Color Guard. Blah, blah, blah. It was mostly a load of bollocks, and I’ll save the ridiculous details for another story. But his displays of affection in the early stages of our cursed courtship seemed sincere, and I believed him when he said that my “being there for him” was helping him grow as a person. What a rube I was.
The emotional connection gradually ran deeper as a result of FPB’s exceptionally well-rehearsed vulnerability act, but it was hardly a romance novel. After several relatively normal “getting to know each other” months, I discovered that FPB had been notoriously promiscuous in the past. A lothario, through and through. Many women apparently knew all about the “ladies’ man maître D” in midtown Wellsprings who would go home with absolutely ANYONE.
And I soon figured out that he had not left his promiscuous past behind him... at all. But even if I hadn’t become aware of his reputation, I could often smell his sexual escapades once he felt confident enough to interact with me immediately after he’d gone muff diving. His beard stank like a turtle tank, with heavy top notes of body odor and microwaved fish, and undertones of stale urine, dingleberries, and sometimes a gentle waft of rotting tampon.
He’d also had to treat his foul flavor-saver for pubic lice on a few occasions. I know I mentioned his beard crabs earlier, but it bears repeating (if only for the cringe). I can’t even begin to explain how humiliating the state of his beard was for me. I take care of all manner of personal hygiene, and I’ve certainly never had CRABS. To be known as the girlfriend of such a nasty beardo must have caused at least a few people to reasonably assume that I had a crab-infested crotch and a serious case of junk funk. #notmyjunk
Hindsight tells me that I didn’t care about his philandering because I wasn’t in love with him. His company wasn’t particularly enjoyable since he spent most of our time together complaining about “losers” on the internet and lambasting the insufferable management at the restaurant where he worked. But he could carry on lengthy conversations about luxury fragrance, which was... harmless. Plus, I enjoyed the idea of having a “boyfriend” since I was approaching 30.
And FPB could convincing behave like the *perfect gentleman* on the rare occasions when we attended respectable social events together. So all of my friends thought I’d won the dating lottery by landing myself a quirky, intelligent, polite, and visually striking boyfriend. This dreadful dating experience tempts me to spout some unsolicited advice along the lines of, “Wait for the right *connection* with a person who makes your life more enjoyable, and don’t get hung up on your relationship status... YOU are enough.” But perhaps that’s something we all have to realize for ourselves.
Aside from the philandering, things ran pretty smoothly back when FPB was still keeping “the crazy” under wraps. His goblinization unfolded in tiny, almost imperceptible increments. And by the time he had become a full-blown possessive lunatic, every attempt to end things with him resulted in death threats, slander, vandalism, bomb threats, or false police reports. I could easily write an entire lengthy story about every disastrous breakup attempt. But they wouldn’t be amusing stories. At least this current story has moments that I can try to frame as humorous, largely thanks to the Shadowrun crew.
I suppose the most honest answer as to why I had given FPB chance after chance is that I had absolutely NO prior experience being emotionally close to severely mentally unstable people. I’m one of the lucky ones who has never suffered from mental illness aside from occasional situational depression and some mild body images issues when I was a teenage girl on the high school drill team. I grew up in a loving family. And the only other serious romantic relationship I’d had prior to FPB fell apart because we were just in different stages of life (he was quite a bit older), and we eventually found ourselves unable to relate to one another. Nothing horrifying.
FPB was much closer to my age, we had common interests, and he was a (seemingly) genuine gentleman at first. Our relationship was like Beauty and the Beast... in reverse. I’m not so much comparing myself to Belle as I’m comparing FPB to a kind-hearted prince who gradually transformed into a stomping, snarling, tantrum-throwing BEAST.
Any desire that I’d ever felt for him died from poon fume inhalation. And FPB was pitifully butt-hurt when I closed the cookie to him. And despite displaying no interest in showing affection towards me, despite having countless randos at whom he could wiggle his whisky wang, despite griping incessantly about my terrible personality, my wretched taste in music, and my annoying sense of humor, he refused to end the relationship.
But if I so much as spoke to another man, FPB would call the police and report him as a TCAP Story, vandalize his property (usually with poop and/or semen), stalk him relentlessly, or make a slanderous website, crudely photoshopping the poor guy’s face onto obscene images that he got off the deepest, dingiest, most dumpster-fiery recesses of the dark web. This “retaliation technique” would eventually get his ass incarcerated, but not until many, many unfortunate girlfriends later.
Everyone had always told me that, “Relationships are HARD.” Guys, gals, non-binary pals... if you ever feel the need to cough out this fetid tonsil stone of “wisdom,” please operationally define the word “HARD.” If a relationship feels like a prison sentence and you find yourself fearing for your safety or for the safety of your loved ones, that isn’t “hard.” That is coercive control. RUN. But never forget that running is often much, mucheasier said than done. There’s no shame in getting help from friends, family, and law enforcement.
​
So, where were we? Snorlax was telling FPB to chill out, Axton was going to get some coffee for the lanky, bearded ball of rage, and I was standing on the one clean step, hoping the cleaning crew would come outside and save us all.
FPB was flailing about, trying to achieve a sitting position. Snorlax seemed to have gone back to sleep. And Axton returned to the porch with a cup of coffee and a bottle of water. He made his way down to FPB.
FPB: You’d better stay far, FAR away from her for the remainder of the weekend.
Me: Funky, he’s helping your hungover ass. And he hasn’t been inappropriate towards me in any way.
(That was kind of a lie. But I suppose it all depends on what you consider “inappropriate.”)
FPB harumphed.
Me: I promise you that I’ll punch him in the face if he makes me uncomfortable. Otherwise, please let me get to know your friends. You said that was an important part of the weekend.
Axton sat down the hangover remedies next to FPB’s lawn chair.
Axton: You want some Advil?
FPB nodded, and Axton took the pills out of his pocket and handed them over. FPB washed the pills down, took a few sips of lukewarm coffee, and leaned back in the chair, groaning miserably.
I sat down on the clean step and lit up a cigarette. Axton left FPB to his own devices and approached me cautiously. I gestured for him to come sit next to me. Axton grinned sheepishly, took his cig out of the ashtray, and sat down on the step. I wanted to keep FPB under control, so I said under my breath, “We’d better sit about two feet apart.”
Axton and I both scooched away from one another, the ashtray serving as a buffer, and we continued to speak quietly so that FPB’s hungover groans would drown out our conversation.
Axton: Are you really gonna punch me?
Me: Are you gonna make me uncomfortable?
His grin faded a bit, “Have I made you uncomfortable? If I did, I’m so sorr...”
I made eye contact with him and held it for about 3 seconds longer than I would have held friendly eye contact and replied with my own sheepish grin, “Not at all.”
​
Snorlax was sitting up by that time and he seemed to be in a world of hurt as well.
Axton: Yo, Snor! You need some hangover helper, too?
Snorlax (groaning): Pleeeeeeease.
Axton got up to fetch Snorlax some coffee, water, and pills. Those combat boots were going to need to get hosed down before he went back inside. Especially with Molly and her pissed off crew still at the house.
In fact, I could hear Molly screeching at Sage again.
Molly: There’s more mess on the porch? What sort of mess? More poo poo? A lake of liquor? You people are ANIMALS. I’m never cleaning your house again!!!
Sage: Ummm... I think it’s just booze and pee. You should be able to just power wash it.
Axton: There’s a ton of puke out there, too.
Molly: Jesus, save us all.
Axton ran to Snorlax and delivered the hangover helper.
Axton: Dude! The maids are on their way, and they’re pissed off. We gotta disappear.
I put my cigarette out, stood up, and dashed over to FPB, who was still reclining in the lawn chair with a pained expression on his face.
Me: Funky? The maids are coming. We need to get out of here.
FPB: And go where?
Me: I don’t know! I’ve never done this before. I think Axton knows, but I’m afraid to talk to him.
FPB: HEY, FUCK-FACE. Where are we running off to?
Axton: Garage! Go around the side of the house.
Axton helped Snorlax stagger around to the garage, and FPB managed to wobble to his feet. As he was standing up, I noticed a whisky wee aroma and an extra dark patch of fabric near the crotch of his black underpants. While I guided him to the garage, I tried my darndest to keep his wet boxer briefs away from my clean shirt. His crotch was level with my mid-section, so I curved my body away from him and let him basically use my shoulders and arms as a walker. In the end, we all managed to enter the garage though the side door. It was dusty, musty and stuffy, but it was blissfully devoid of puke and pee. Well, aside from FPB’s underpants.
Sage must have anticipated that we’d take shelter from the angry maids in the garage because he came out from the house and opened the garage doors for us, letting in a nice breeze.
Sage: You guys good?
We all indicated the affirmative.
Sage: Excellent. Mori should be back from the liquor store pretty soon. And he’s picking up hangover food, too.
Snorlax: What’s he getting?
Sage: Taco Bell.
Seriously? Not only were they having to restock the booze, but they were also planning to chow down on Taco Bell to help with the hangovers? There was no way in hell that was going to help.
At any rate, FPB and Snorlax were chugging the remainder of their hangover helper and seemed to be gradually getting their sea legs back. Axton had apparently been awake a little longer than they had, so his hangover seemed to have passed. I’m just assuming this since I was forbidden to speak to him. And with the only two non-hungover people there forbidden to speak to one another, the garage was eerily silent.
We were all sitting on the dusty floor and FPB, still wearing nothing but wet boxer briefs, tried to pull me into his lap.
Me (getting up and crossing the room): HELL NO. You peed yourself. I’m not sitting in your lap until you go wash up and put on some clean underpants.
FPB: It’s not pee. It’s dew.
Axton: It’s piss, bro. I can smell it.
FPB (snarling): You shut your fuck-nugget mouth, Asshat.
Wow, Axton’s ability to exhibit no reaction at all to FPB’s venom was impressive. I might have to try that and see if it would work for me.
Snorlax: He’s right. It’s definitely pee. No shame, though. I wet my pants, too. I had to get up and change at like... 6 in the morning. It sucked.
FPB: OP, please get over yourself and come sit by me.
Me: No lap sitting.
FPB: Fine.
Me: Do you want me to go get your backpack so you can change?
“Chill out, Miss Uptight! We all wet our pants every weekend. It’s tradition,” he said as he wound his long arms around me from the side.
I felt like I was in a cage. I rolled my eyes, and I think Axton noticed my exasperated expression because I could see him snickering.
FPB: What’s funny, you DICK?
Axton composed himself, and Snorlax gallantly stepped up to save us.
Snorlax: He’s laughing cause I farted. Sorry.
Always a sucker for bathroom humor, I burst out laughing. Axton started laughing again, Snorlax started laughing, lifted a cheek and really did rip one this time. The butt wind even kicked up a little dust from the garage floor. That made all the reasonable people in the garage laugh even harder. But not FPB. No, he was fuming.
FPB: What the hell is really so fucking FUNNY? Someone fess up to me or I’m gonna start flaying you bitches.
Axton: Dude. For real. We’re laughing at a fart. (more laughter)
Snorlax (also laughing): Yeah, just the thought of Taco Bell gave me gas.
FPB’s fury just made it even funnier, and all of us were in stitches.
FPB: I know you’re all laughing at ME.
Yeah, I guess it did kind of start off that way. But by the time his rage was hitting the boiling point, we really were just behaving like overgrown children and laughing hysterically at a fart. And everything was ten times funnier because we had this “stick in the mud” sitting there getting outrageously offended by the laughter. You know the feeling, right? When you’re not supposed to laugh at something, it becomes even harder not to laugh? Or is that just me?
FPB: I’m getting dressed now. OP, come help me. You two jabronis can stay in here and laugh at each other’s farts.
Instead of heading to the hammock in the back yard where FPB’s clothes presumably remained, he entered the house through the garage door and headed straight for the guest room to retrieve his backpack. Good. Maybe he was at least going to put on some clean underpants.
But, no. He wasn’t. That would have taken away from the repulsive debauchery that his whizzy boxer briefs allowed him to revel in. He really needed to settle on a story. Was he such a wild, crazy party boy that he was too cool to care that he’d wet his pants? Or was he a pathetic drunk who’d passed out and managed to collect afternoon dew in the crotch of his boxer briefs (and nowhere else on his body)? We’ll never know. His Shadowrun tramp stamp was in full view as he bent down and grabbed his wallet from his black leather backpack. He then marched into the kitchen and told Sage, “Bring me a maid.”
Sage: Ummm... they’ve got their hands pretty full at the moment.
FPB produced a hundred-dollar bill from his wallet. “I want my clothes steam cleaned. And I’ll need them spritzed with perfume. Athena’s got some here, doesn’t she?”
Sage: Yeah... But you’re gonna have to ask HER if you want to use her perfume. And you’re gonna have to ask the cleaning crew to steam your clothes. They’re all pretty annoyed with me over the condition of the house. There’s a new head maid. I’m having to pay TRIPLE the normal cleaning fee, dude.
In my mind, the considerate action would have been to forego the steaming and offer the cash to Sage, since FPB’s sparkle vomit and spilled liquor definitely contributed to the mess. Instead, FPB exited through the front door, made his way around to the backyard, and began removing his clothes from the hammock. The maids shrieked. FPB ignored the shrieks, gathered his clothes, and sauntered back into the house. Once we were back indoors, we could hear Molly going over the bill with Sage.
FPB: AHEM. Madam, I need these clothes steam cleaned.
He thrust his suit and the hundred-dollar bill in her direction.
Molly: Excuse me??? We were hired to clean this disgusting house. You want your clothes steamed, go to the drycleaners.
She sniffed the air.
Molly: And go take a shower. You smell like a diaper.
I stepped in. “Hey. Sage? Do you mind if I steam FPB’s clothes in the guest bathroom?”
Sage: Fine by me.
I pulled FPB aside. “Give me your clothes. You peed in your sleep after you took you suit off right?”
FPB: IT’S DEW.
Me: It doesn’t matter. Your underwear’s wet and you need to put on a dry pair. In the meantime, I’ll go in the bathroom, hang your clothes up, get the room steamy from the shower, and then they’ll at least be a little less wrinkled. We used to do it all the time in college.
FPB: But those bitches have professional equipment. If they can steam carpet, they can steam a suit.
Me: I think it’s a different type of steamer.
FPB: Oh, you’re an expert on steamers?
Me: Not the Cleveland kind.
Damn it, Mori would have appreciated my attempt at an obvious dirty joke.
FPB harumphed, and I put the plan into action. I turned the shower on as hot as it would go, sifted through FPB’s suit components carefully to make sure his pants were dry. Fortunately, they were. I hung the clothes as close to the shower curtain as I could without getting them wet and sat down to try and enjoy the steam room and the solitude. Maybe it would make me feel refreshed? But the sweetness of the solitude wouldn’t last, as I could hear a conversation taking place just outside the door.
Sage: What the hell, man? Why are you guarding the bathroom door?
FPB: I don’t want any of you pervs trying to walk in on my girlfriend while she showers.
Sage: Okay... I think she’s just in there steaming your fancy clothes.
FPB: She might be taking a shower, too. NAKED. I have to protect her from the male gaze.
Sage: Well... I’ve got a girlfriend. Mori’s not here, and Snorlax and Axton are both stand-up dudes.
FPB: I don’t trust Axton. I caught him picking her up on the porch, and then he tried to TALK TO HER.
Sage: “Picking her up” as in the crap you pull at work all the time? Or literally “picking her up” so she didn’t step in puke?
FPB: Uh... he made some lame excuse.
Sage: So... Picking her up so she didn’t step in puke. What a jerk.
FPB: Right?!
Sage: Listen, man. The door locks. And she’s a grown woman. Leave her alone for five minutes, for fuck’s sake. And put on some clean underwear.
FPB: IT’S DEW.
When I couldn’t take the steam anymore, I turned off the shower, retrieved FPB clothes, which did look spiffier, and opened the door to inhale the fresh, cool air. Ahhh! And the lovely cleaning crew had managed to get rid of the “poopy-pee-puke-pizza” pungency.
Apparently, being lightly mocked by the “vice principal” had embarrassed FPB enough to make him go find something better to do. No one was outside the door at that moment. I gathered FPB’s clothes, carried them to the guest room, and laid them out on the bed.
Now to find my seething anger ball of a boyfriend. Best guess? He was back in the garage, yelling at Axton and Snorlax. So that’s where I checked first.
I entered the garage from the house, and found Sage, Athena, Axton, Snorlax, and Mori all sitting around enjoying some Taco Bell and drinking beer. No FPB.
Me: Hey, guys! Have any of you seen a tall, angry guy in wet boxer briefs?
Mori: He’s on the back porch. Said he had to call his work.
Ah, yes. “Work.” That meant he was texting one of his randos. Probably the one who showed up at Sage’s house late last night.
Me: Beer me?
They all answered with a validating chorus of “Hell yeah,” and, “Go girl!”
I grabbed a beer from the cooler and scanned the room for a place to sit. Axton stood up and led me over to his spot.
Axton: Hey, guys! Who am I?
And then he pulled me onto his lap, wrapped his arms around me and started shouting in a caveman voice, “MY GIRLFRIEND. MINE. NO TALKING TO HER. DON’T EVEN LOOK OR I’LL STAB YOU IN THE EYEBALL.”
Everyone, including me, found this incredibly funny. And I was pleased to see that the whole team was acknowledging FPB’s absurdly possessive behavior. Maybe if the people he respected most in this world called him out on his insane possessiveness, he would reflect? Yeah, let’s see how that goes...
I stayed in this far too comfortable position for a minute or so. Axton was more muscular than FPB and he wasn’t “circus-freak tall,” so his lap was a much better fit. But I knew that if FPB rounded the corner and caught me sitting in another guy’s lap, he’d flip. Especially since my position in Axton’s lap had happened purely to make a mockery out of FPB. I leaned into him for a few more seconds, then slid over into my own cold, hard, lonely space.
Guess I needed to do some reflecting, too... Not because I was finding myself attracted to a guy who wasn’t my boyfriend. My boyfriend was a psycho and I needed to reflect on why I hadn’t been able to find an exit strategy that didn’t lead to terroristic threats or stalking.
Mori: I think I’ll add a new punishment tonight. But only for FPB. If he glitches, he has to sit in my lap and let me paw all over him. See how he likes it.
Me: Be sure to get a raging boner and jab him in the hip with it.
I couldn’t tell if the laughing that ensued was because I’d made a crude joke to the perfect audience or because I had unintentionally “called” the inevitable.
Mori (in a deliberately creepy tone): Oh, that won’t be a problem.
We laughed again.
And then, all the fun was sucked from the garage. FPB entered from the driveway and demanded to know what was funny.
Sage: Mori’s cooking up new punishments.
FPB: That’s... terrifying.
Me: Hey, I put your clothes in the guest room if you want to get dressed.
FPB: M’kay. I’m getting a beer first.
He cracked open a beer and headed inside. As he towered in the doorway, he turned to me.
FPB: You coming?
Mori: You need your girlfriend to help you put your clothes on? Are you in kindergarten?
FPB: Eat a dick, Mori.
Mori: Sounds delicious.
FPB shuddered and trudged inside. He hadn’t made any more demands that I accompany him, so I let him go put on his big boy pants all by himself.
*end of Chapter 4
As always, thank you so, so much for reading!
Hope to see you back for The Lap of Luxury!

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★ Huntsman Knife Autotronic FT, B/O: $212

★ Huntsman Knife Bright Water FT, B/O: $129

★ Huntsman Knife Forest DDPAT MW, B/O: $129

★ Huntsman Knife Forest DDPAT BS, B/O: $123

★ StatTrak™ Huntsman Knife Rust Coat BS, B/O: $127

⎯

★ Bowie Knife Gamma Doppler (Phase 2) FN, B/O: $375

★ Bowie Knife Gamma Doppler (Phase 1) FN, B/O: $363

★ Bowie Knife Tiger Tooth FN, B/O: $269

★ Bowie Knife Crimson Web WW, B/O: $192

★ Bowie Knife Bright Water FN, B/O: $159

★ Bowie Knife Ultraviolet FT, B/O: $126

⎯

★ Stiletto Knife Slaughter FN, B/O: $616

★ Stiletto Knife Crimson Web FT, B/O: $412

★ StatTrak™ Stiletto Knife Night Stripe FT, B/O: $227

⎯

★ Falchion Knife Lore FT, B/O: $214

★ Falchion Knife Autotronic FT, B/O: $192

★ Falchion Knife Scorched WW, B/O: $105

⎯

★ Survival Knife Crimson Web BS, B/O: $216

★ Survival Knife Case Hardened FT, B/O: $198

★ Survival Knife Scorched FT, B/O: $111

⎯

★ Shadow Daggers Fade FN, B/O: $368

★ Shadow Daggers Doppler (Phase 3) FN, B/O: $228

★ Shadow Daggers, B/O: $201

★ Shadow Daggers Damascus Steel FT, B/O: $108

★ Shadow Daggers Ultraviolet FT, B/O: $105

★ Shadow Daggers Black Laminate FT, B/O: $99

★ Shadow Daggers Forest DDPAT FT, B/O: $85

⎯

★ Gut Knife Doppler (Sapphire) MW #1, B/O: $1700

★ Gut Knife Gamma Doppler (Phase 1) FN, B/O: $223

★ Gut Knife Marble Fade FN, B/O: $203

★ Gut Knife Doppler (Phase 2) FN, B/O: $191

★ Gut Knife Case Hardened BS, B/O: $127

⎯

★ Navaja Knife Doppler (Phase 4) FN, B/O: $199

★ Navaja Knife Doppler (Phase 4) FN, B/O: $199

★ Navaja Knife, B/O: $138

★ Navaja Knife Damascus Steel FN, B/O: $111

⎯

★ Classic Knife Urban Masked FT, B/O: $146

★ StatTrak™ Classic Knife Stained BS, B/O: $168

⎯

★ Ursus Knife Doppler (Phase 3) FN, B/O: $476

★ Ursus Knife, B/O: $375

⎯

★ Skeleton Knife, B/O: $1137

★ Talon Knife, B/O: $608

★ Paracord Knife, B/O: $305

★ Survival Knife Forest DDPAT FT, B/O: $97

GLOVES

★ Moto Gloves Transport MW, B/O: $204

★ Moto Gloves Polygon BS, B/O: $142

★ Moto Gloves Blood Pressure BS, B/O: $84

★ Moto Gloves Blood Pressure BS, B/O: $84

★ Moto Gloves 3rd Commando Company BS, B/O: $63

★ Moto Gloves 3rd Commando Company BS, B/O: $63

⎯

★ Specialist Gloves Crimson Kimono WW, B/O: $1215

★ Specialist Gloves Tiger Strike FT, B/O: $672

★ Specialist Gloves Lt. Commander FT, B/O: $305

★ Specialist Gloves Lt. Commander BS, B/O: $140

★ Specialist Gloves Crimson Web BS, B/O: $137

★ Specialist Gloves Buckshot FT, B/O: $75

⎯

★ Driver Gloves Crimson Weave FT, B/O: $359

★ Driver Gloves Imperial Plaid BS, B/O: $229

★ Driver Gloves Overtake BS, B/O: $77

★ Driver Gloves Racing Green FT, B/O: $48

⎯

★ Sport Gloves Omega FT, B/O: $739

★ Sport Gloves Amphibious BS #2, B/O: $733

★ Sport Gloves Arid BS, B/O: $292

⎯

★ Hand Wraps Giraffe MW, B/O: $212

★ Hand Wraps Leather FT, B/O: $160

★ Hand Wraps Desert Shamagh MW, B/O: $101

⎯

★ Broken Fang Gloves Yellow-banded MW, B/O: $185

★ Broken Fang Gloves Needle Point FT, B/O: $67

★ Broken Fang Gloves Needle Point WW, B/O: $59

⎯

★ Hydra Gloves Case Hardened BS, B/O: $65

★ Hydra Gloves Emerald FT, B/O: $65

★ Hydra Gloves Emerald BS, B/O: $62

WEAPONS

AK-47 Case Hardened BS, B/O: $130

AK-47 Bloodsport MW, B/O: $79

AK-47 Fuel Injector BS, B/O: $76

AK-47 Fuel Injector BS, B/O: $76

AK-47 Bloodsport FT, B/O: $70

AK-47 Neon Rider MW, B/O: $60

StatTrak™ AK-47 Aquamarine Revenge FT, B/O: $72

⎯

AWP Fade FN, B/O: $1039

AWP Asiimov FT, B/O: $139

AWP Asiimov FT, B/O: $139

AWP Wildfire MW, B/O: $95

AWP BOOM MW, B/O: $93

AWP BOOM MW, B/O: $93

AWP Duality FN, B/O: $81

AWP Asiimov BS, B/O: $79

AWP Asiimov BS, B/O: $79

AWP Chromatic Aberration FN, B/O: $60

StatTrak™ AWP Hyper Beast FT, B/O: $68

StatTrak™ AWP Hyper Beast FT, B/O: $68

StatTrak™ AWP Electric Hive FT, B/O: $55

⎯

Desert Eagle Blaze FN, B/O: $623

Desert Eagle Emerald Jörmungandr FN, B/O: $241

Desert Eagle Cobalt Disruption FN, B/O: $81

Desert Eagle Cobalt Disruption FN, B/O: $81

Desert Eagle Cobalt Disruption FN, B/O: $81

Desert Eagle Printstream FT, B/O: $54

⎯

M4A1-S Blue Phosphor FN, B/O: $434

StatTrak™ M4A1-S Bright Water MW, B/O: $55

⎯

M4A4 Poseidon FN, B/O: $1465

M4A4 Asiimov BS, B/O: $55

M4A4 Hellfire MW, B/O: $50

⎯

USP-S Kill Confirmed MW, B/O: $72

USP-S Printstream FT, B/O: $69

StatTrak™ USP-S Kill Confirmed FT, B/O: $139

⎯

AUG Flame Jörmungandr FN, B/O: $234

P90 Run and Hide FT, B/O: $147

Five-SeveN Candy Apple FN, B/O: $61

Trade Offer Link - Steam Profile Link - My Inventory

Knives - Bowie Knife, Butterfly Knife, Falchion Knife, Flip Knife, Gut Knife, Huntsman Knife, M9 Bayonet, Bayonet, Karambit, Shadow Daggers, Stiletto Knife, Ursus Knife, Navaja Knife, Talon Knife, Classic Knife, Paracord Knife, Survival Knife, Nomad Knife, Skeleton Knife, Patterns - Gamma Doppler, Doppler (Phase 1, Phase 2, Phase 3, Phase 4, Black Pearl, Sapphire, Ruby, Emerald), Crimson Web, Lore, Fade, Ultraviolet, Night, Marble Fade (Fire & Ice, Fake FI), Case Hardened (Blue Gem), Autotronic, Slaughter, Black Laminate, Tiger Tooth, Boreal Forest, Scorched, Blue Steel, Vanilla, Damascus Steel, Forest DDPAT, Urban Masked, Freehand, Stained, Bright Water, Safari Mesh, Rust Coat, Gloves - Bloodhound Gloves (Charred, Snakebite, Guerrilla, Bronzed), Driver Gloves (Snow Leopard, King Snake, Crimson Weave, Imperial Plaid, Black Tie, Lunar Weave, Diamondback, Rezan the Red, Overtake, Queen Jaguar, Convoy, Racing Green), Hand Wraps (Cobalt Skulls, CAUTION!, Overprint, Slaughter, Leather, Giraffe, Badlands, Spruce DDPAT, Arboreal, Constrictor, Desert Shamagh, Duct Tape), Moto Gloves (Spearmint, POW!, Cool Mint, Smoke Out, Finish Line, Polygon, Blood Pressure, Turtle, Boom!, Eclipse, 3rd Commando Company, Transport), Specialist Gloves (Crimson Kimono, Tiger Strike, Emerald Web, Field Agent, Marble Fade, Fade, Foundation, Lt. Commander, Crimson Web, Mogul, Forest DDPAT, Buckshot), Sport Gloves (Pandora's Box, Superconductor, Hedge Maze, Vice, Amphibious, Slingshot, Omega, Arid, Big Game, Nocts, Scarlet Shamagh, Bronze Morph), Hydra Gloves (Case Hardened, Emerald, Rattler, Mangrove), Broken Fang Gloves (Jade, Yellow-banded, Unhinged, Needle Point), Pistols - P2000 (Wicked Sick, Ocean Foam, Fire Element, Amber Fade, Corticera, Chainmail, Imperial Dragon, Obsidian, Scorpion, Handgun, Acid Etched), USP-S (Printstream, Kill Confirmed, Whiteout, Road Rash, Owergrowth, The Traitor, Neo-Noir, Dark Water, Orion, Blueprint, Stainless, Caiman, Serum, Monster Mashup, Royal Blue, Ancient Visions, Cortex, Orange Anolis, Ticket To Hell, Black Lotus, Cyrex, Check Engine, Guardian, Purple DDPAT, Torque, Blood Tiger, Flashback, Business Class, Pathfinder, Para Green), Lead Conduit, Glock-18 (Umbral Rabbit, Fade, Candy Apple, Bullet Queen, Synth Leaf, Neo-Noir, Nuclear Garden, Dragon Tatto, Reactor, Pink DDPAT, Twilight Galaxy, Sand Dune, Groundwater, Blue Fissure, Snack Attack, Water Elemental, Brass, Wasteland Rebel, Vogue, Franklin, Royal Legion, Gamma Doppler, Weasel, Steel Disruption, Ironwork, Grinder, High Beam, Moonrise, Oxide Blaze, Bunsen Burner, Clear Polymer, Bunsen Burner, Night), P250 (Re.built, Nuclear Threat, Modern Hunter, Splash, Whiteout, Vino Primo, Mehndi, Asiimov, Visions, Undertow, Cartel, See Ya Later, Gunsmoke, Splash, Digital Architect, Muertos, Red Rock, Bengal Tiger, Crimson Kimono, Wingshot, Metallic DDPAT, Hive, Dark Filigree, Mint Kimono), Five-Seven (Neon Kimono, Berries And Cherries, Fall Hazard, Crimson Blossom, Hyper Beast, Nitro, Fairy Tale, Case Hardened, Copper Galaxy, Angry Mob, Monkey Business, Fowl Play, Anodized Gunmetal, Hot Shot, Retrobution, Boost Protocol), CZ75-Auto (Chalice, Crimson Web, Emerald Quartz, The Fuschia is Now, Nitro, Xiangliu, Yellow Jacket, Victoria, Poison Dart, Syndicate, Eco, Hexane, Pole, Tigris), Tec-9 (Rebel, Terrace, Nuclear Threat, Hades, Rust Leaf, Decimator, Blast From, Orange Murano, Toxic, Fuel Injector, Remote Control, Bamboo Forest, Isaac, Avalanche, Brother, Re-Entry, Blue Titanium, Bamboozle), R8 Revolver (Banana Cannon, Fade, Blaze, Crimson Web, Liama Cannon, Crazy 8, Reboot, Canal Spray, Night, Amber Fade), Desert Eagle (Blaze, Hand Cannon, Fennec Fox, Sunset Storm, Emerald Jörmungandr, Pilot, Hypnotic, Golden Koi, Printstream, Cobalt Disruption, Code Red, Ocean Drive, Midnight Storm, Kumicho Dragon, Crimson Web, Heirloom, Night Heist, Mecha Industries, Night, Conspiracy, Trigger Discipline, Naga, Directive, Light Rail), Dual Berettas (Flora Carnivora, Duelist, Cobra Strike, Black Limba, Emerald, Hemoglobin, Twin Turbo, Marina, Melondrama, Pyre, Retribution, Briar, Dezastre, Royal Consorts, Urban Shock, Dualing Dragons, Panther, Balance), Rifles - Galil (Aqua Terrace, Winter Forest, Chatterbox, Sugar Rush, Pheonix Blacklight, CAUTION!, Orange DDPAT, Cerberus, Dusk Ruins, Eco, Chromatic Aberration, Stone Cold, Tuxedo, Sandstorm, Shattered, Urban Rubble, Rocket Pop, Kami, Crimson Tsunami, Connexion), SCAR-20 (Fragments, Brass, Cyrex, Palm, Splash Jam, Cardiac, Emerald, Crimson Web, Magna Carta, Stone Mosaico, Bloodsport, Enforcer), AWP (Duality, Gungnir, Dragon Lore, Prince, Medusa, Desert Hydra, Fade, Lightning Strike, Oni Taiji, Silk Tiger, Graphite, Chromatic Aberration, Asiimov, Snake Camo, Boom, Containment Breach, Wildfire, Redline, Electric Hive, Hyper Beast, Neo-Noir, Man-o'-war, Pink DDPAT, Corticera, Sun in Leo, Elite Build, Fever Dream, Atheris, Mortis, PAW, Exoskeleton, Worm God, POP AWP, Phobos, Acheron, Pit Viper, Capillary, Safari Mesh), AK-47 (Head Shot, Wild Lotus, Gold Arabesque, X-Ray, Fire Serpent, Hydroponic, Panthera Onca, Case Hardened, Vulcan, Jet Set, Fuel Injector, Bloodsport, Nightwish, First Class, Neon Rider, Asiimov, Red Laminate, Aquamarine Revenge, The Empress, Wasteland Rebel, Jaguar, Black Laminate, Leet Museo, Neon Revolution, Redline, Frontside Misty, Predator, Legion of Anubis, Point Disarray, Orbit Mk01, Blue Laminate, Green Laminate, Emerald Pinstripe, Cartel, Phantom Disruptor, Jungle Spray, Safety Net, Rat Rod, Baroque Purple, Slate, Elite Build, Uncharted, Safari Mesh), FAMAS (Sundown, Prime Conspiracy, Afterimage, Commemoration, Dark Water, Spitfire, Pulse, Eye of Athena, Meltdown, Rapid Eye Move, Roll Cage, Styx, Mecha Industrie, Djinn, ZX Spectron, Valence, Neural Net, Night Borre, Hexne), M4A4 (Temukau, Howl, Poseidon, Asiimov, Daybreak, Hellfire, Zirka, Red DDPAT, Radiation Hazard, Modern Hunter, The Emperor, The Coalition, Bullet Rain, Cyber Security, X-Ray, Dark Blossom, Buzz Kill, In Living Color, Neo-Noir, Desolate Space, 龍王 (Dragon King), Royal Paladin, The Battlestar, Global Offensive, Tooth Fairy, Desert-Strike, Griffin, Evil Daimyo, Spider Lily, Converter), M4A1-S (Emphorosaur-S, Welcome to the Jungle, Imminent Danger, Knight, Hot Rod, Icarus Fell, Blue Phosphor, Printstream, Master Piece, Dark Water, Golden Coil, Bright Water, Player Two, Atomic Alloy, Guardian, Chantico's Fire, Hyper Beast, Mecha Industries, Cyrex, Control Panel, Moss Quartz, Nightmare, Decimator, Leaded Glass, Basilisk, Blood Tiger, Briefing, Night Terror, Nitro, VariCamo, Flashback), SG 553 (Cyberforce, Hazard Pay, Bulldozer, Integrale, Dragon Tech, Ultraviolet, Colony IV, Hypnotic, Cyrex, Candy Apple, Barricade, Pulse), SSG 08 (Death Strike, Sea Calico, Blood in the Water, Orange Filigree, Dragonfire, Big Iron, Bloodshot, Detour, Turbo Peek, Red Stone), AUG (Akihabara Accept, Flame Jörmungandr, Hot Rod, Midnight Lily, Sand Storm, Carved Jade, Wings, Anodized Navy, Death by Puppy, Torque, Bengal Tiger, Chameleon, Fleet Flock, Random Access, Momentum, Syd Mead, Stymphalian, Arctic Wolf, Aristocrat, Navy Murano), G3SG1 (Chronos, Violet Murano, Flux, Demeter, Orange Kimono, The Executioner, Green Apple, Arctic Polar Camo, Contractor), SMGs - P90 (Neoqueen, Astral Jörmungandr, Run and Hide, Emerald Dragon, Cold Blooded, Death by Kitty, Baroque Red, Vent Rush, Blind Spot, Asiimov, Trigon, Sunset Lily, Death Grip, Leather, Nostalgia, Fallout Warning, Tiger Pit, Schermatic, Virus, Shapewood, Glacier Mesh, Shallow Grave, Chopper, Desert Warfare), MAC-10 (Sakkaku, Hot Snakes, Copper Borre, Red Filigree, Gold Brick, Graven, Case Hardened, Stalker, Amber Fade, Neon Rider, Tatter, Curse, Propaganda, Nuclear Garden, Disco Tech, Toybox, Heat, Indigo), UMP-45 (Wild Child, Fade, Blaze, Day Lily, Minotaur's Labyrinth, Crime Scene, Caramel, Bone Pile, Momentum, Primal Saber), MP7 (Teal Blossom, Fade, Nemesis, Whiteout, Asterion, Bloosport, Abyssal Apparition, Full Stop, Special Delivery, Neon Ply, Asterion, Ocean Foam, Powercore, Scorched, Impire), PP-Bizon (Modern Hunter, Rust Coat, Forest Leaves, Antique, High Roller, Blue Streak, Seabird, Judgement of Anubis, Bamboo Print, Embargo, Chemical Green, Coblat Halftone, Fuel Rod, Photic Zone, Irradiated Alert, Carbon Fiber), MP9 (Featherweight, Wild Lily, Pandora's Box, Stained Glass, Bulldozer, Dark Age, Hot Rod, Hypnotic, Hydra, Rose Iron, Music Box, Setting Sun, Food Chain, Airlock, Mount Fuji, Starlight Protector, Ruby Poison Dart, Deadly Poison), MP5-SD (Liquidation, Oxide Oasis, Phosphor, Nitro, Agent, Autumn Twilly), Shotguns, Machineguns - Sawed-Off (Kiss♥Love, First Class, Orange DDPAT, Rust Coat, The Kraken, Devourer, Mosaico, Wasteland Princess, Bamboo Shadow, Copper, Serenity, Limelight, Apocalypto), XM1014 (Frost Borre, Ancient Lore, Red Leather, Elegant Vines, Banana Leaf, Jungle, Urban Perforated, Grassland, Blaze Orange, Heaven Guard, VariCamo Blue, Entombed, XOXO, Seasons, Tranquility, Bone Machine, Incinegator, Teclu Burner, Black Tie, Zombie Offensive, Watchdog), Nova (Baroque Orange, Hyper Beast, Green Apple, Antique, Modern Hunter, Walnut, Forest Leaves, Graphite, Blaze Orange, Rising Skull, Tempest, Bloomstick, Interlock, Quick Sand, Moon in Libra, Clean Polymer, Red Quartz, Toy Soldier), MAG-7 (Insomnia, Cinqueda, Counter Terrace, Prism Terrace, Memento, Chainmail, Hazard, Justice, Bulldozer, Silver, Core Breach, Firestarter, Praetorian, Heat, Hard Water, Monster Call, BI83 Spectrum, SWAG-7), M249 (Humidor, Shipping Forecast, Blizzard Marbleized, Downtown, Jungle DDPAT, Nebula Crusader, Impact Drill, Emerald Poison Dart), Negev (Mjölnir, Anodized Navy, Palm, Power Loader, Bratatat, CaliCamo, Phoenix Stencil, Infrastructure, Boroque Sand), Wear - Factory New (FN), Minimal Wear (MW), Field-Tested (FT), Well-Worn (WW), Battle-Scarred (BS), Stickers Holo/Foil/Gold - Katowice 2014, Krakow 2017, Howling Dawn, Katowice 2015, Crown, London 2018, Cologne 2014, Boston 2018, Atlanta 2017, Cluj-Napoca 2015, DreamHack 2014, King on the Field, Harp of War, Winged Difuser, Cologne 2016, Cologne 2015, MLG Columbus 2016, Katowice 2019, Berlin 2019, RMR 2020, Stockholm 2021, Antwerp 2022, Swag Foil, Flammable foil, Others - Souvenirs, Agents, Pins, Passes, Gifts, Music Kits, Cases, Keys, Capsules, Packages, Patches

Some items on the list may no longer be available or are still locked, visit My Inventory for more details.

Send a Trade Offer for fastest response. I consider all offers.

Add me for discuss if there is a serious offer that needs to be discussed.

The Lenovo Legion T5 Gamer Desktop Computer is a powerful gaming machine that offers exceptional performance and cutting-edge features. With its sleek design and high-quality components, it's no wonder that this computer has gained popularity among gamers and tech enthusiasts alike. In this article, we will delve into the various aspects of the Lenovo Legion T5 and explore what makes it a top choice for gamers.

1. The Lenovo Legion T5 is powered by the latest generation Intel Core processors, which deliver lightning-fast speeds and seamless multitasking capabilities.
   
2. The computer features an NVIDIA GeForce graphics card, ensuring smooth and immersive gaming experiences with stunning visuals and realistic effects.
   
3. With a spacious storage capacity, the Lenovo Legion T5 provides ample space to store all your favorite games, movies, and files without worrying about running out of space.
   
4. The Legion T5 comes with a high-speed solid-state drive (SSD) that significantly improves boot times and reduces loading screens in games.
   
5. The desktop computer boasts a sleek and stylish design, with customizable RGB lighting that adds a touch of personalization to your gaming setup.
   
6. The Lenovo Legion T5 is equipped with a comprehensive cooling system that keeps the components running at optimal temperatures, even during intense gaming sessions.
   
7. The computer supports VR (virtual reality) gaming, allowing you to immerse yourself in virtual worlds and explore new dimensions of gameplay.
   
8. The Legion T5 features a multitude of connectivity options, including USB ports, HDMI, and DisplayPort, making it easy to connect your favorite peripherals and accessories.
   
9. The computer comes with a gaming keyboard and mouse that are specifically designed for enhanced precision and responsiveness.
   
10. Lenovo offers extensive customer support and warranty options, ensuring that you are well taken care of if any issues arise with your Legion T5.
    
11. The Legion T5 is highly customizable, allowing you to upgrade components such as the graphics card, RAM, and storage to meet your evolving gaming needs.
    
12. The computer runs on Windows 10, providing a familiar and user-friendly operating system for gamers of all levels.
    
13. The Lenovo Legion T5 utilizes advanced audio technology, delivering crystal-clear sound and immersive surround sound experiences.
    
14. The desktop computer supports dual monitors, enabling you to have a more expansive and immersive gaming setup.
    
15. The Legion T5 is equipped with a range of connectivity options, including Wi-Fi and Ethernet, ensuring a stable and reliable internet connection for online gaming.
    
16. The computer features a user-friendly interface that allows for easy customization of settings and optimization of gaming performance.
    
17. The Legion T5 is designed with future-proofing in mind, ensuring that it can handle the demands of upcoming games and technologies.
    
18. Lenovo offers regular software updates and driver releases, ensuring that your Legion T5 is always up to date with the latest features and improvements.
    
19. The computer comes with a variety of pre-installed gaming software, including Lenovo Vantage and the Lenovo Nerve Center, which provide additional features and optimization tools.
    
20. The Legion T5 is built with durability in mind, using high-quality components and robust construction to withstand the rigors of long gaming sessions.
    
21. The computer features a spacious and well-organized interior, making it easy to access and upgrade components as needed.
    
22. The Legion T5 is optimized for gaming performance, with features like high refresh rate support and low input lag to give you a competitive edge.
    
23. The computer supports streaming capabilities, allowing you to easily share your gameplay with friends and the online gaming community.
    
24. The Lenovo Legion T5 offers a seamless gaming experience, with minimal lag and fast response times that ensure smooth gameplay.
    
25. The computer comes with a range of ports and slots, making it easy to connect external devices such as gaming controllers, headphones, and micro
    

phones.

1. The Legion T5 is designed to be energy-efficient, helping you save on electricity costs while minimizing environmental impact.
   
2. The computer's compact form factor makes it ideal for those with limited desk space, as it can easily fit into smaller gaming setups.
   
3. The Lenovo Legion T5 is backed by positive reviews from users and experts alike, praising its performance, reliability, and value for money.
   
4. The computer offers extensive customization options, allowing you to personalize the lighting, effects, and settings to match your gaming style and preferences.
   
5. The Legion T5 is equipped with a high-quality display, providing vibrant colors and sharp visuals that enhance your gaming experience.
   
6. The computer features a robust and efficient power supply unit, ensuring stable and reliable power delivery to all components.
   
7. The Lenovo Legion T5 incorporates advanced gaming technologies, such as ray tracing and DLSS, to deliver lifelike graphics and realistic effects.
   
8. The computer comes with a dedicated gaming mode that optimizes system resources for maximum performance during gameplay.
   
9. The Legion T5 is designed to be upgradable, allowing you to easily swap out components and stay up to date with the latest hardware advancements.
   
10. The computer offers multiple audio outputs, enabling you to connect external speakers or headphones for an immersive audio experience.
    
11. The Legion T5 comes with a comprehensive set of ports and connectors, including USB 3.0, USB-C, and audio jacks, providing versatility for all your peripheral needs.
    
12. The computer features a robust security system, including password protection and encryption options, to keep your gaming data and personal information safe.
    
13. The Lenovo Legion T5 offers a smooth and responsive gaming experience, with minimal input lag and high frame rates.
    
14. The computer comes with a user-friendly setup process, allowing you to get up and running quickly and easily.
    
15. The Legion T5 is designed with efficient heat dissipation in mind, ensuring that the components remain cool even during demanding gaming sessions.
    
16. The computer supports multiple monitor setups, enabling you to have a more immersive and multitasking-friendly gaming experience.
    
17. The Legion T5 is compatible with a wide range of gaming accessories and peripherals, including gaming headsets, controllers, and VR devices.
    
18. The computer features a dedicated gaming button that allows you to quickly access gaming-related settings and features.
    
19. The Lenovo Legion T5 comes with a generous amount of memory, allowing for smooth multitasking and fast loading times.
    
20. The computer is designed to be quiet during operation, minimizing distractions and providing an immersive gaming environment.
    
21. The Legion T5 offers a range of pre-installed gaming software, including game launchers and optimization tools, to enhance your gaming experience.
    
22. The computer's powerful hardware ensures that it can handle resource-intensive tasks, such as video editing and 3D rendering, in addition to gaming.
    
23. The Lenovo Legion T5 comes with a reliable and responsive customer support team, ensuring that any issues or queries are promptly addressed.
    
24. The computer features a user-friendly BIOS interface, allowing for easy customization of settings and overclocking options.
    
25. The Legion T5 offers a range of connectivity options, including Bluetooth, allowing you to connect wireless peripherals and devices effortlessly.
    
26. The computer's compact size and portable design make it easy to transport for LAN parties or gaming events.
    
27. The Lenovo Legion T5 is built with high-quality components from reputable manufacturers, ensuring long-lasting performance and reliability.
    
28. The computer comes with a comprehensive warranty that covers parts and labor, providing peace of mind for your investment.
    
29. The Legion T5 is designed to minimize cable clutter, with strategically placed ports and cable management options for a clean and organized setup.
    
30. The computer's high refresh rate display provides
    smooth and fluid visuals, reducing motion blur and enhancing your gaming experience.
    
31. The Lenovo Legion T5 offers a variety of performance modes, allowing you to customize the computer's performance based on your specific needs.
    
32. The computer features a spacious and well-ventilated chassis, ensuring optimal airflow and cooling for the internal components.
    
33. The Legion T5 comes with pre-installed software that allows you to monitor system performance, temperatures, and fan speeds in real-time.
    
34. The computer supports fast charging technology, allowing you to quickly recharge your devices via USB ports.
    
35. The Lenovo Legion T5 offers a seamless online gaming experience, with reliable network connectivity and low latency.
    
36. The computer's RGB lighting system can be synchronized with other compatible peripherals and accessories, creating a cohesive gaming setup.
    
37. The Legion T5 is designed to be easily upgradable, allowing you to swap out components and stay ahead of the latest gaming trends.
    
38. The computer's ergonomic design and placement of ports and buttons ensure ease of use and accessibility.
    
39. The Lenovo Legion T5 comes with a range of pre-installed software and utilities, including antivirus protection and system optimization tools.
    
40. The computer's powerful processor and graphics card combination allow for smooth multitasking and seamless transitions between applications.
    
41. The Legion T5 supports multi-channel audio output, providing an immersive and realistic sound experience during gaming.
    
42. The computer's high-speed connectivity options enable lag-free online gaming and smooth streaming of gameplay to online platforms.
    
43. The Lenovo Legion T5 offers a variety of gaming modes, such as FPS (first-person shooter) and RTS (real-time strategy), optimizing the system for specific game genres.
    
44. The computer features a user-friendly interface that allows for easy customization of RGB lighting effects and other visual enhancements.
    
45. The Legion T5 is equipped with advanced thermal management technology, including multiple cooling fans and heat sinks, to ensure optimal performance.
    
46. The computer's high-quality display supports a wide color gamut, providing vibrant and accurate colors for a more immersive gaming experience.
    
47. The Lenovo Legion T5 offers extensive storage options, including both SSD and HDD configurations, giving you the flexibility to choose the storage solution that suits your needs.
    
48. The computer's powerful graphics card supports real-time ray tracing, delivering lifelike lighting and reflections for a more realistic gaming experience.
    
49. The Legion T5 comes with a dedicated gaming software suite, including features like game optimization and system performance monitoring.
    
50. The computer's high-performance components are carefully selected and tested to ensure compatibility and reliability.
    
51. The Lenovo Legion T5 offers a variety of gaming accessories and peripherals, such as gaming chairs and monitors, to complete your gaming setup.
    
52. The computer features a high-quality audio system, with support for advanced audio technologies like Dolby Atmos, for an immersive sound experience.
    
53. The Legion T5 is designed to run quietly, with noise-dampening materials and efficient cooling systems that keep fan noise to a minimum.
    
54. The computer's sleek and modern design makes it a stylish addition to any gaming setup, enhancing the overall aesthetics of your gaming area.
    
55. The Lenovo Legion T5 offers seamless integration with popular gaming platforms and services, allowing you to easily access and manage your gaming library.
    
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--- Table of Contents ---
Summer 4986, 15 Akamoth
Shaloon left the Firewyrm with the journeymen, tired and literally drained but smiling since she was allowed to help them feed and clean the animal specimens. Before continuing down the hall, the Archmage turned back to the small stable. She sighed as the Firewyrm hissed at one of the specimens for crowding too close to the bucket of meat she was dishing out to them. She was like a mother chastising over-eager toddlers. Shaloon’s lips curled in a sneer, her words slipping out in a growl of mixed languages, “Appropriate. Might as well be, her samples allowed for their evolution…”
“Archmage?” Journeyman Brom looked up from bottling the Firewyrm's blood. Fool, he would know all the words she'd said… But what sentence structure had she used? She couldn’t remember and hadn’t noticed. She walked away, having been talking to herself anyway.
She walked up the spiral stairs to the larger labs on the ground floor, the laughter of the Firewyrm ringing in her ears. Perhaps mother wasn’t the right word. The girl didn’t see them as children but as something else… “toys,” treasures.
She didn’t bother to knock before entering one of two main labs on the ground floor, and Morndancer didn’t bother to look up from his book, “We need purer samples.” she stated, leaning on the doorframe and crossing her arms to look down on him in the sunken room.
Morndancer snorted, “And where do you expect to find them? We have the Firewyrm.”
Shaloon growled, not looking forward to having this argument again. “She is tainted. Her samples mix on a molecular level, and the spell that changed her…”
“She is our greatest success!” Morndancer slammed his book closed, turning wide, mad, eyes on Shaloon, “You don’t think I tried to make something pure? Something complete? Do you have any idea how many priceless samples and artifacts we wasted before creating something that could actually survive? They are the closest things we have to true-”
“And yet, instead of focusing on replicating them, we waste our time trying to breed the beast out of animals!” Shaloon shouted then cursed, pushing roughly off the door frame, “I have sent to the central Talon and requested pure samples. They will be here in a month.”
“A month…” Morndancer mouthed, then his face twisted, “You sent for them over a season ago and are just now telling me? Why not cut your way there yourself if you are that eager to split our efforts?”
Shaloon turned her nose up at that. She had been transferred here, to this frozen backwater Talon, because she was one of the few Archmages able to cut a hole through space and teleport through the outer planes. She had allowed the transfer because she'd wanted to experiment with this man. What a disappointment. He'd been the greatest mind in the central Talon, making the most substantial progress seen since the extinction. But he refused to continue that line of study, and was now starting to ignore the last fifteen years of experiments here.
“You won’t even let me use the wyvern. It’s been cloistered away in caves for the last two and a half years while you ramble about gods and Chosen…”
“I saw one, Shaloon!” he shouted, jumping to his feet and knocking his book to the ground. Shaloon gasped, rushing down the steps for the book. Picking it up, she held the priceless tome to her chest as if cradling a crying child. “The Talons must shift their focus,” Morndancer paced around the room in circles, talking more to himself than to her, “If there is one, then there will be more. The wyrms gave them the power to reach across the planes. They will be the key. The children will create their own brood…”
Reverently Shaloon placed the book back on its pedestal and turned for the door. Morndancer had finally tipped over the edge. It was the inevitable fate of anyone who exposed their minds to the type of magic they studied. And he had reached deeper than any other. The human mind wasn't meant to converse with the forces that granted their power. She would fall too, eventually.
“But until then…” she turned back to the pacing Archmage, “The samples will be here in a month, escorted by Journeyman Karlo,”
Morndancer finally looked up, "Karlo will never advance past Journeyman, He's halfway to the Outerplains already."
Shaloon smirked, "Aren't we all?" and left the lab.
***
Veon-Zih cracked his neck and rolled his shoulders while he stood in line at the docks. Waiting patiently to present his papers to the guard signing off on the passengers disembarking from Oane. A second guard passed him, heading for a wagon to inspect the goods. The enlisted men looked tense, going through the papers and goods with more focus and efficiency than they usually would, A Paladin officer hovering over them, his hands clasped tightly behind his back and silver armor gleaming in the sun.
Veon-Zih smiled at the Paladin, handing his papers to the enlisted but speaking with the knight, “As much as I appreciate your inspired diligence, Sir, this would go so much faster if you didn’t have them checking and double-checking each signature three times over.”
“Proper procedure is key in keeping us safe, Mr…” he trailed off, looking toward the soldier who flipped to the front of the Monk's massive book to show his name, “Vee… ohn… Zee… ha?”
Close enough, “That it is good Sir. Carry on.” there was no point in arguing with Paladins over proper procedures. Even when it hampered efficiency.
Behind him, the wagon driver shifted nervously as the soldier began asking questions while perusing his trade logs. “I, um… Mr. Karlo?” Veon-Zih glanced over his shoulder as the driver stuttered. The portly man breathed an audible sigh of relief as a second man hopped from the wagon and addressed the soldier. This man was tall, or at least appeared to be, with his head stretched high and back held too stiff, his long straight robe seemed to give his slender body further length. But strangest was how he moved, in snaps and jerks, his head twitching back and forth as he spoke in a whisper to the guard.
“That’s not at all suspicious…” Veon-Zih muttered, taking his papers back from his own soldier and stepping out of the way of the line. Those who had gone before him had already disappeared into the port city, and those behind moved forward to take his place, passing the wagon to reach the free guard.
The driver had the unmistakable look of a merchant, with pouches lining his belt and his guild's badge displayed on his left breast. He should've crossed the straight to Clearhelm many times over as an apprentice before going solo. And yet, he'd stuttered nervously and deferred to his passenger, who was clearly not of the Merchants Guild. Most likely a Mage based on his robe's lack of a religious emblem.
Veon-Zih narrowed his eyes at the strange man as he passed over his papers. The book was nearly as thick as his own, though it bulged with the thickness. Either the Mage hadn’t updated the cover despite the increased pages or…
Veon-Zih cleared his throat, getting the Paladin’s attention, and gestured with his chin towards the wagon. The Paladin looked him over for a moment, his brow furrowed, then glanced towards the wagon. He had no reason to trust Veon-Zih but Paladins were not ordinary soldiers. If there was reason to worry, Hengist would urge him to look for the signs.
The guard shifted his weight just enough to turn his back to the Paladin before opening the book. Veon-Zih sighed, watching the man move. He wasn’t just turning pages. His arm pulled too far back rather than to the side. Most likely slipping something into his coat. The Paladin might not have been able to see, but he'd already caught the scent that something wasn’t right here and started forward, placing his hand on the guard’s shoulder.
“Everything seems to be in order, Sir…” the guard had a superb poker face, a sure sign he'd taken bribes before. He handed the Mage back his papers and turned to wave the wagon on.
Veon-Zih stepped forward just as the Paladin held out his hand to stop the driver. “Headed for the Mages Guild, perhaps?” Veon-Zih asked curiously, trying to sound innocent.
The Mage twitched violently, turning stunning purple eyes on Veon-Zih, “Yes. Very important samples…” he spoke slowly, as if he needed to consider each word before saying them out loud.
“Then why not take a gate?” Veon-Zih chuckled, “I’ve been across this fine kingdom of Daanlan many times over, and I don’t think I’ve ever seen a wagon carrying Mage goods…” he tapped his own impressive book of papers against his leg, demonstrating his experiential authority on the matter. “What about you, Sir Knight?” he asked the Paladin, ceding control back to the Temple representative.
“Your papers,” the Paladin ordered, holding his hand out for the Mage's book. The Mage nearly vibrated with the speed of his twitching. The driver blanched but swallowed, keeping silent. Though it was his wagon. The Mage handed over his papers again, but then the Paladin added an order to the soldier, “Open the crates.”
The Mage’s eyes bulged, as the soldier he'd bribed moved towards the cart. Veon-Zih and the Mage both stared as the guard climbed into the wagon, opening the nearest crate without removing it. He nodded at the contents then closed the crate again. He had definitely accepted smuggling bribes before.
“Hold, good man…” Veon-Zih called. The guard glared at Veon-Zih, and the Monk grinned. If looks could kill…
“Sir.” the guard said indignantly to the Paladin as though the knight should be offended that Veon-Zih had inserted himself into this business. The Paladin, however, just frowned, waving the man down and nodding to Veon-Zih. Something in the knight's gut insisted that the Monk was to be trusted, and Veon-Zih’s grin widened as he approached the wagon.
Digging past some bottles labeled "griffin blood", he found what was making the driver so nervous, “Scales… dragon scale.” a nearly impossible-to-find, and highly restricted, magical component. Their owners having gone extinct millennia ago.
The Paladin growled, “All of you will come with me. Now.” he snapped the papers closed, shoving them under his arm and turning on his heel towards the Temple.
The Mage hissed like a snake, his arms coming up and black fire shooting from his splayed fingers toward the Paladin’s back. Veon-Zih grabbed the side of the wagon, swinging around it and sliding along the ground, he kicked the Mage's feet out from under him. The Mage tumbled backward, his fire barely licking the Paladin’s blue cape before going out.
The Paladin turned, reaching for his sword, but the Mage had blinked, disappearing before he hit the ground and reappearing ten feet away. “Damn magic users…” Veon-Zih jumped to his feet as the Mage began to chant, his arms becoming wreathed in shadow.
The guard who had inspected Veon-Zih’s papers drew his short sword and started for the Mage. A good man. Stupid. But his heart was in the right place.
Tentacles sprouted from where the Mage’s arms had been, twitching and writhing with the same jerky movements of the man himself. Veon-Zih sprinted forward, trying to close the distance and distract from the guard.
The Mage attacked, sending one tentacle out to strike Veon-Zih, who ducked, throwing his arm up to deflect the living whip. It shouldn’t have hurt this much. Veon-Zih blocked the pain, rolling forward. He needed to get to striking distance before…
The guard screamed, flailing his sword and cutting right through the second tentacle. As if made of smoke, the tentacle broke and reformed behind the swing, smacking the guard solidly on the head. The guard’s helmet flew off, and he dropped to the ground, clutching the side of his face. The skin between his fingers was black and blistering with red pustules.
Veon-Zih reached the Mage, striking up at the man’s chest as he stood, smacking him with the palm of his hand and knocking the wind from his lungs and spell from his lips. Lifting his foot high into the air, Veon-Zih slammed his heel down on the Mage's shoulder, sending him crumbling to the ground.
The Mage hit the stone hard, some of the cobbles breaking loose and flying into the air. His tentacled arms continued to writhe, whipping back and forth behind Veon-Zih, attacking the prone guard again as if on their own.
The Mage laughed. Giggled like a young child, his head lolling to the side, eyes staring at nothing.
Veon-Zih was forced to dodge a tentacle again, this time careful not to touch it. His arm still stung where it had burned through his clothes to reach his skin. Veon-Zih gauged the power needed to knock the man out without killing him. The Temple would want to question him. His fist hadn’t yet hit when the Mage screamed and thrashed. Veon-Zih turned to see the Paladin, sword drawn and glowing with a brilliant blue-white light, standing between the Mage's tentacles and his fallen guard. On the ground at his feet, twitched the end of one tentacle before dissolving into smoke.
The second tentacle whipped forward, thrusting like a spike to stab the knight. But the Paladin calmly cut through it, channeling the divine power of Hengist through his sword to split the tentacle down the middle. The Mage screamed again, then went quiet as Veon-Zih bopped him soundly on the base of his skull.
***
Shaloon burst through the door to Morndancer’s private rooms. The magical door made of starry night slammed into the wall and rattled the mirror across the way. “Something’s wrong.”
“Of course something is wrong,” Morndancer said absently, scratching the chin of the otherworldly pseudodragon draped over his wardrobe, “The world is being reborn, and all we can do is watch.”
“No.” she didn’t have time for his new nihilism, “Journeyman Karlo, we need to find him.”
Morndancer, for once, didn’t argue. He moved to the mirror, placing one hand in the center and holding his other out to Shaloon. She fished in her robes, pulling out a small jar, and upended it into his palm. A piece of flesh flopped into the Archmage's palm, and he closed his fingers around it, chanting softly.
The image in the mirror wavered out from his fingers as if made of water, and when it calmed again, they saw two men on its surface. A Paladin and an old man in lowly peasant garb with a shaved head. “It’s him…” Shaloon whispered.
Morndancer was more focused on the Paladin, “He’s been captured. What do they know…”
The Paladin held his helm under his arm and seemed to be watching them as he surveyed Karlo. “That was like no arcane magic I’ve ever seen before, Master Veh-oan-Zith. What kind of Mage casts spells like that?”
The Monk’s lip twitched in the merest hint of a smile, but it disappeared a moment later when he covered his chin with his hand, stroking it in thought. “The Warlock kind good Sir…”
“That’s enough,” Shaloon said with a sigh. Morndancer nodded, opening his hand and holding the lump of flesh out to her. Her shoulders slumped for a moment, another researcher lost… She draped her fingers loosely over Karlo's flesh and, with a word, set it alight with black flame.
***
“A Warlock, Master Monk? In Clearhelm?” the Paladin sounded horrified. Veon-Zih wished the knight would try and say his name again, just to add a little bit of levity to the solemn moment.
“I’m afraid so. This will be the third time I've faced one, and their magic is not one you forget,” Veon-Zih answered.
The twitchy Warlock was restrained in the center of the room, eyes open but mind far away. It appalled the Paladin how easily the man had almost gotten away with smuggling into his province, doubly so now that he knew the nature of the man’s magic. “He will be questioned thoroughly. Would you like to be present when-”
The Warlock screamed, struggling against his bonds. The Paladin reached for his sword and Veon-Zih dropped into a fighting stance but both had to shield their eyes a moment later as the Warlock burst into black flames from the inside. His eyes shriveled and burned, the flames licking out the sockets and catching his hair alight as his mouth continued to scream forth black fire.
The Paladin recovered enough to begin chanting some kind of healing or disenchanting spell but not fast enough. In mere seconds, the Warlock’s arms fell free from their bonds as they dissolved into ash, followed a moment later by the rest of his body. Leaving only the scorched chair, loose chains, and a pile of ash where once the man had been.
***
“We don’t know how much they learned,” Morndancer stated, turning accusing eyes on Shaloon.
Shaloon looked away, “They won’t find us.”
“You’re right.” Morndancer turned his back on her, “We are leaving. Make the arrangements.”
***
“They're still here then…” General Rasnah stood, looking out the window of her office towards the setting sun, clasping her wrists behind her back.
It had taken Veon-Zih a few weeks to reach Smilnda from the port city of Gehdran, though Rasnah had received the report of the Warlock incident much sooner, the same day in fact, through the Mages Guild mirrors. “Any new information?” Veon-Zih asked, moving to stand beside her. He'd returned to visit Shon in Hamerfoss, but would delay if necessary.
“No,” Rasnah sighed, “I've sent word to my counterparts in Oane and to the kingdom, we are trying to trace the man’s papers and cargo, but it will take time. They've covered their tracks well, probably have been for years.”
“At least thirty…” Veon-Zih muttered, turning away from the window and Rasnah. He took the seat in front of her desk with a road-weary sigh. “Why is it, my dear Rasnah, that you must tease me so?” he asked playfully.
Rasnah managed a laugh, “What?”
“Almost every time I come to Smilnda, something exciting seems to be brewing and then,” he snapped his fingers, “gone. We haven’t heard anything of these Warlocks for over five years, and just when I start to give up hope, bam, wyvern! I don’t suppose you killed it while I was away?”
Rasnah snorted another little laugh, finally turning away from the sunset and taking her seat behind her desk, “Please don’t remind me of the wyvern. It's been two years with no sightings, and Daunas still hasn’t stopped asking to hunt it with every report.”
“Does he want to avenge his father that badly?”
“How is it vengeance when Mung killed that one himself?”
“I wouldn’t think someone Daunas’s age would still be seeking glory…” Veon-Zih stroked his chin in thought, “He’s not much better than you 'retired' lot.”
Rasnah leaned back in her chair, lacing her fingers together, and finally gave him a real smile, “He works harder now than he ever did on the road. Us too, truth be told…”
“If you’re trying to convince me to join you again, you’re doing a very poor job of it,” Veon-Zih said, returning her smile. He didn’t want to return her mind to the serious issue at hand, but her’s wasn’t the only mind it was plaguing, “Now we have more Warlocks… possibly the same group. Are they going to disappear again? How many years before Smildna decides to dangle a true adventure under my nose once more?”
“Perhaps it’s a sign, my old, old... ooold friend. Perhaps these are adventures for the next generation.”
“Pah,” Veon-Zih waved that idea down as fast as he could, “I would rather not leave a mess for those coming behind. Besides, they aren’t ready.”
“They get closer every day, V. Don’t blink. As soon as you do, Shon will be Oath Sworn and off to hunt wyverns and Warlocks of his very own.”
Veon-Zih leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees, “How’s he doing, Rasnah?” It had been a year and a half since Shon had transferred to Hamerfoss for training. Veon-Zih had tried to visit at least once a season, and the jumps in his skills seemed outstanding. Yet something still nagged at the back of Veon-Zih's mind. Was he still disappointed the boy hadn’t chosen the Monk path?
“You’re headed there next, see for yourself,” Rasnah answered shortly, though she also pulled a drawer open.
“Humor me,” Veon-Zih said, but she already was. She didn’t even have to look for the folder, showing him clearly she'd been ready for this very conversation. Before they'd been distracted by internally combusting Warlocks.
She didn’t pass over the file, such breaches of privacy were strictly against protocols, but she did leaf through it herself. “He gets top marks in combat, particularly with ambidextrous weapons and anything that requires finesse over brute strength. His lecture grades are also high, though he struggles with decorum and etiquette. His armor scores are honestly abysmal. Though I’m not sure the blame for that lies with him…” still facing the paper, she glared up at Veon-Zih with just her eyes.
“Well…” Veon-Zih rubbed the back of his neck under that accusatory stare, “He won’t have a problem if ambushed in the bath…”
That got another little snort of laughter out of the Paladin, who closed the file, “If you want anything more personal, you'll have to ask him yourself.”
Veon-Zih nodded. He just hoped Shon had made at least a few real friends since his last visit.
***
"How?" Veon-Zih gaped open-mouthed at Shon while the other Squires tried to stifle their snickers around him, “How did you get injuries from dancing?!”
Shon let go of his dance partner’s hands, and the boy stuck his fingers under his arms as if to warm them from a winter chill. Weary blue eyes turned to Veon-Zih for only a moment before Shon looked away, his cheeks pink. One cheek was bandaged with a thick square of cloth taped in place. His rolled-up sleeves showed the ends of more bandages on his right arm, and he flinched as he rubbed his ribs nervously. Were those hurt too?
“Well, Squire? Answer the man…” Daunas called from a bench against the wall of the fortress courtyard. The Weaponmaster leaned back, his hands laced behind his head, legs stretched out and crossed at the ankles. He maintained that dancing was for nobles and Paladins and wasn’t the one giving this lesson. Though he'd chosen to come watch regardless.
Shon mumbled something inaudible then turned away to resume dancing. His partner shook his hands out before reaching for Shon, but Daunus called out again, “What was that, Squire? Something about you taking hits on purpose?”
Shon’s eye twitched, and the boys around him tried to smother their laughter, “I won, didn't I?!” Shon called to the Weaponmaster, who snickered. The boys stopped laughing at that. They were the ones he was defeating.
The Paladin giving the dance lesson, gasped, “Squire, push-ups. Now.” Shon saluted sharply and dropped in place to perform the punishment for his rudeness. Daunas laughed louder. “The rest of you get back to work. One two, one two, leaders, don’t let your followers take control. They had their turn earlier…”
Veon-Zih made his way to Daunas’s bench, plopping heavily down on it, “The Cleric?” Veon-Zih asked the Weaponmaster, who was still smiling, though he had closed his eyes to take in the sun while it lasted. Autumn was right around the corner.
“We told him last week they weren’t going to heal anything he could've prevented himself.” Daunas explained, “Your boy has a nasty habit of taking a non-fatal hit if it means he gets the win. Which he always does. But it’s a bad habit.”
“Stubborn…” Veon-Zih muttered, watching Shon jump back to his feet to resume the dance lesson. His partner flinched at Shon's touch but started to dance without further complaint. The boys spun in well-timed circles, some stepping on feet, others pulling a little too hard, but mostly doing well. Shon had the steps down perfectly but looked stiff, like a golem going through programming. Not really feeling the music flowing from the open box beside the teacher still giving the count.
“He’s your boy." Daunas snorted out another laugh at Veon-Zih’s expense, "Sure he’s not a blood relation?” The Monk chose to ignore the insinuation and seeing he wasn’t going to get a reaction from Veon-Zih, Daunus continued, “He really is a great fighter, but he’ll need to be better with plate if he wants to keep taking hits like that.”
“You can hardly move in plate,” Veon-Zih argued, annoyed. Daunas just shrugged, so Veon-Zih leaned back with him, resting his back on the curtain wall’s cool stones, “How about everything else? Has he opened up at all?”
Daunas sighed, “In his own way. He doesn't -not- get along with anyone, and the others seem to like him well enough. But he’s quiet that one, would rather watch and listen than participate during free time, and that's assuming he's not outside practicing! He’s started helping the ones that are falling behind in combat training. It works out. He hardly uses the time he gets off anyway, and before you accuse me of taking advantage, it was his idea. I asked, and he said if they needed extra training, he might as well join them. But before you get too proud, their friendship outside the extra practice seems the same as all the others.”
So nothing had changed. Veon-Zih sighed, was there even a point in wanting Shon to make friends like a 'normal' boy? This was his normal, and if he was happy, then why encourage something different? "I suppose if it isn't harmful..." Veon-Zih whispered.
The hour bell sounded, and the Paladin closed the music box, leaving the deep rings to fill the suddenly silent air as the Squires all snapped to attention. He waited until the last bell faded before calling “Dismissed!” Almost as one, the sixteen boys sagged in relief, laughing and joking with one another as they began their first hour of free time before dinner.
Veon-Zih pushed off the wall and started for Shon. The other Squires smiled and waved or saluted greetings towards him, and he smiled and nodded in response, his feet never wavering from their path.
“Damn Shon, I swear you’ve gotten colder…” Shon’s dance partner said with a smile, rubbing his hands together. Shon just shrugged, and the boy laughed, “See you at dinner then,” before he rushed off to join some of the others heading towards the fortress proper.
Shon turned, then, spotting Veon-Zih, looked away again. Reaching him, Veon-Zih crossed his arms and arched a questioning eyebrow, waiting for the young man to look up. Shon was almost as tall as Veon-Zih now, just a few more inches, and he would overshoot his Master. That didn’t stop him from sounding small as he muttered a soft “Sorry…”
“Are you really?” Veon-Zih asked, keeping his eyebrow up.
Shon looked up, a stubborn glint in his ice-blue eyes, “They never know what to do when a blow actually lands. It ends the fights fast.”
“So you end one fight, but what about the next? Or the one after that? How many little blows do you think you can take before you fall?” Veon-Zih didn’t yell, and Shon would've heard it all from Daunas already, but it was different coming from his Master. He ran his hand through his hair, cut regulation short so not at all in his face, looking truly ashamed for the first time.
“Sorry…”
Veon-Zih sighed, taking Shon by the shoulder, “Don’t be sorry, be better.” Shon just nodded, so Veon-Zih gave him a little shake and a smile, “What about life in general? Still enjoying the military?”
Shon’s smile was as small and subtle as ever, but to Veon-Zih, it lit up his face. Shon nodded, “It’s easy and organized. I wish the Church had been so structured. As long as everyone does what they're supposed to when they're supposed to, it’s perfect.”
Veon-Zih threw his head back and laughed. By the time he looked back down, Shon was staring at him, his eyebrow arched in question. “Shon… you were born to be a Paladin.” Veon-Zih answered.
--- Table of Contents ---
Thank you for reading.

****WARNING****
***
Body Horror, bugs, death, gore. Attempted horror.
By my own standards, this is fairly tame, your mileage may vary, content advisory.
***
Captain Van’tu, the Garaboosian commander of the Alliance of Free Stars light scout cruiser Mandrake, frowned, in the way of his species, and gestured with a lower lefthand at his human science officer to continue.
The woman turned back to her console, to peer into the hood of her ‘scope and minutely adjust a control.
“The ship is an old Terran Alliance Explorer class, the TAN Nebula Star. She was reported overdue for resupply a little over a hundred years ago, exact details are spotty as the station she was supposed to report to was destroyed in the Terran civil war. By modern standards she was little more than a heavy cruiser with an oversized jumpcore, and limited weaponry. The Terran Alliance Navy was very much focused on exploration and first contact, and several of their vessels vanished without trace only to show up decades later in pirate hands. However, this does not seem to be the case with the Nebula Star…”
The image on the holotable was mute testimony to this information. The old starship, much more massive than the Mandrake, but significantly less well equipped, looked derelict. Several holes gaped in her once-pristene white hull, the smooth lines marred and crooked, and the jumpcore bulb near the stern showed a terrible, blasted crater, black with soot and melted steel.
Captain Van’tu scrolled the smooth wheel of the holo controls, swivelling the image and zooming into the damage.
“What do we think of this, Sasha, that looks like an internal explosion, not battle damage.”
“Yes Captain.” Sasha, the science officer, agreed. She manipulated a pad on her side of the console. Several sidebars lit up. “Here, here and here. Chemical signatures we’ve picked up in the dustcloud around the wreck, and the blast pattern, indicates a high yield chemical explosive was utilised, we would need to get a scan from inside the wreckage to be certain, but I think I can confidently say this was caused by a c4 package commonly kept as part of ship inventories of that era. We carry a similar type of explosive even now, it has uses in a number of emergency protocols.”
The captain nodded. “I’m familiar with Human paranoia, ‘better to have and not need than need and not have’, which is why I learned to carry a backpack heavier than myself at the academy.” He smiled at the woman, who grinned back in that wolfish human fashion.
Commanding a Terran vessel as part of the Alliance Navy was a high honour for a non-Terran, and he’d earned it the hard way, he’d actually completed his officer training on Earth itself, heavy gravity, lethal flora, fauna, and practical jokes be damned, he’d always dreamed of command, and he had never planned to settle for anything less than the best ships of the fleet.
Somehow his determination to ‘make it’ had actually impressed his trainers and teachers, and earned him the interest of a senior Admiral, which explained his current command. And he was no ticket-puncher, his crew was, in his opinion, the best in the fleet, and if his ship was small, he was so proud of her, some days he could almost burst his hearts from it. She was his first, and with luck, not his last, and while scouting duty following pre-war exploration routes was far from glamorous, it was essential work for the Alliance, following up first contacts, reopening lost trade routes, and, now and then, coming across relics, and giving closure to the descendants of those vanished vessels.
“Alright. She looks cold, and her reactor is dead, but we don’t know what happened to her, she could have run afoul of pirates, or been captured and misused for decades, or been left boobytrapped, so pack up a SAR shuttle, and give them a leader drone, they don’t enter unless the drone clears the way in.”
“Aye aye Captain, I’ll get them on their way. Sidearms?”
“Yyy…esss. Yes. And overarmour. If someone’s left any surprises, it will help.”
Sasha turned and walked off, already tapping her communicator to summon the personnel she’d be sending.
He frowned again, looking into the depths of the hologram. Something was bothering him, the same sensation he’d felt while visiting a zoo on Earth. Humans around him grinning, nodding to one another, and the confirmation of his worry came as a boom of hundreds of pounds of apex feline carnivore crashing against the high density crystal he’d been standing with his back to…
Something was creeping up on them, he could feel it.
***
The shuttle launched from the brightly lit boatbay of the Mandrake, arcing smoothly through the glittering blackness towards the cruelly murdered starship. In front of it zipped the mote of the drone, its scanners and sensors slaved to the shuttle, giving the drone specialist on board an instant feed to all his senses, feeling, experiencing everything the drone saw.
It zipped around the gaping hole where the jumpdrive had once been housed, then around in a helical pattern, scanning every micron of the lost ships hull, mapping it in complete three dimensional perfection, then tracking towards the boatbay. Inside, two, much older, versions of the Mandrakes shuttle rested, crooked against their davits, the bay airlock doors lying open.
The drone slowly crept inside the dark corridor as the shuttle followed it in, nestling into an empty davit. Power hookups, identical after a century thanks to long ago agreed standardisation, marry up, pogo pins compressed and energized, drawing trickle power from the shuttle to latch securely.
The crew debark, except the probe operator who remained strapped in his jumpseat, guiding the drone deeper into the derelict.
Suited figures follow its path, jumping from the shuttle hatch to the airlock. They don’t bother trying to seal it, it had been lying open for a century, there was no air left within to preserve. The drone met a cross passage, and moved right, headed towards the bridge, following schematics downloaded from Mandrake’s computer. The scout crew followed, alert, and making note of damage to bulkheads, the carpets that once covered the floors looking torn, dark stains telling a worrying story.
The probe entered the bridge of the Nebula Star and paused. The LIDAR scanner illuminated the space in a slow pass of green laser light, left to right and back again. The chamber was empty, save the various consoles and chairs the crew would have used, and the lone figure of the Captain, in his central command chair.
To Captain Van’tu, observing the time delayed remote feed on his own bridge, it was remarkable just how similar the darkened derelict wreck was to his own vessel, down to the arrangement of bridge consoles and type of carpeting used. He’d read, in one of his intro to ship design classes, that Terran bridge layout owed much to speculative fiction of pre-spaceflight eras, and a lot of experimental wet-navy designs.
He'd brought it up once with his chief of engineering, who had responded with a ridiculous approximation of a Scottish accent, “Aye laddie, we Terrans owe an awfy lot tae an auld lass called the Enterprise!” and laughed, continuing his explanation in his more natural German accented standardised Terran. Van’tu had spent several informative evenings with his console, soaking up ancient Terran entertainment as a result.
The drone circled the bridge, slowly, keeping its thruster exhaust well clear of the mummified body in the central chair, making its way to the science console. A small arm popped out and slotted into the consoles data port.
Several lights flickered on the antique panel, the probe powering up the cold circuits to read the datalogs, then around the room, dim red lights came to life, as more of the bridge woke up. Through the hull itself, a faint whine transmitted, the probes oversized fusion battery providing enough current to trigger the startup of a backup generator below the bridge.
The scouting party stepped in, peering around. One, her grey skinsuit marked with a red stripe down the arms, moves across to the captain, a medical scanner in her hand.
“I’m reading significant trauma throughout the corpse, but remarkable preservation as well. Life support must have been glitching badly for a long time after… Wait…” She smacked the side of the scanner, then passed it back across the corpse. “Scanner keeps picking up my own heartbeat, trying to tell me this guys still alive, fucking thing.” She put it away in the side pocket of her suit and pulled out a smaller device. “I kept my old one, should be good enough to… Fuck me sideways…”
“Maybe later Carol, what’s the script?” A green stripe on the party leader’s arm. He was looking around, feeling… itchy, between his shoulder blades. Something wasn’t right, and not just the dead ship. He’d been lead on two other derelict searches, and they never went like this. Accidents happened, people died, usually horribly, and you always found, well, bodies. Whole or otherwise. Yet, aside from the clearly traumatic bloodstains on the floors, soaked long before the artificial gravity had failed, this ship hadn’t shown them a single body, nothing, not even fragments.
Not only that but he could swear he’d seen movements. No-one else had, but he also knew that his reflexes tested significantly higher than average, he was seeing something the others were simply not noticing.
Carol stepped away from the corpse.
“My old scanner says this guy’s alive Mark. Heartbeat, brain activity, oxygenated blood. He’s not breathing and he’s a fucking corpse, but both my scanners say he’s gooey in the middle. And I’ll be honest I don’t want to be here, send probes back across on AI control and let them explore, this is too freaky. I know you’ve been seeing shit, well, I’ve been picking up weirdness all along, and this is too much. We should leave!”
Mark bit back a curse. He agreed, but he was also supposed to be a professional, and as the leader of the scout team who first boarded the derelict, he’d have been slated for command of the ‘prize crew’ to bring her home. At the same time, he was holding back a growing uneasiness, his other two team members were shuffling nervously, and Carol was on the edge of panic.
“Alright, we head back to the shuttle and leave the probe to grab the logs. Something’s weird here, might be the atmosphere on this thing, I admit it’s spooky, but we all know I see weird bugs and things other folk miss, and Carol, you’ve had that personal scanner since high school, if it’s saying something weird, something weird is going on. If Captain… Morrison, is still alive after a century in vacuum, he can keep a few more hours until the AI probes can collect him. We’re not equipped for medical evac anyway.”
They stepped back through the hatchway, leaving the probe to its work. Emergency lighting flickered into life, adding a lurid red glare to the tableaux, Mark, last to leave, sharply snapping his head back around as something… He was reminded of a time as a child, he’d turned over a log in his parents’ yard, and hundreds of inch-long centipedes had scurried in panicked circles to escape the sudden glare of sunlight.
Nothing moved, aside from the slow pulsing of rebooting computers.
He followed his people towards the shuttle.
One by one, they made the leap back to the shuttle davit, and boarded, cycling back aboard, and taking their seats. The drone pilot barely moved to acknowledge them, clearly lost in the datefeed from the old computers, and aside from a quick glance across readouts to ensure the data was flowing cleanly to the Mandrake, Mark didn’t disturb the man.
He hit the switch to release the davit clamps, and the popped free. The shuttle turned, and smoothly glided out, aligning with the mothership and headed home. He blinked and shook his head. That motion again, out the corner of his eye. He glanced over, seeing the drone pilot’s faceplate swarming with legs for a fraction of a second.
“Uhh, Josh, you alright there?” He hated breaking into drone pilot concentration, but this wasn’t right, and Carol was gesturing desperately at him from her chair. He reached across, and nudged Josh’s shoulder, the skinsuit collapsing under his fingers and the skull clacking loosely against the faceplate.
***
Captain Van’tu listened to the soft report coming from Sasha, the scout crew had found the captain of the derelict but were returning early due to some unsettling information they’d found. He didn’t like it, but he also respected human instincts. If skilled officers felt there was a reason to withdraw before mission completion, he knew better than to override the human-on-the-spot.
He’d have a word with Mark later, in private, if necessary, but the man had never been wrong before.
Across the communicator, there was a sudden eruption of yelling, the shuttle on the holo spiralling wildly. Sasha was demanding a clear response from the screaming communicator.
Mark came over the channel. “Abort mission, contamination, alien threat…” His words ended in a gurgling scream, the kind that began high and ended, eventually, in a growling snarl of mortal agony. The line remained open, however, and the entire bridge crew turned to stare, mouths agape, as into the silence the faint sounds of gnawing began to echo.
Sasha shut off the feed with a shaky finger. “Captain, I…”
“I know. Arm several probes, get them to the shuttle, find out what happened and…”
Once more, attention fell to the holo display, as on it, the icon of the shuttle winked red. Sasha motioned, and the focus zoomed in. Where the shuttle had been, a spreading scatter of debris remained.
She pulled up the sidebars again.
“Right before Mark, uh, died, his authorisation codes were used to trigger an overload on the shuttle reactor. We didn’t pick up the feed in real time, they were returning after all, but all of them suffered catastrophic biological distress immediately before their lifesigns cut out. Mark was the last one alive, and severely injured when he triggered the reactor.”
Captain Van’tu shook out his lower hands with a stress-shedding gesture. “The shuttle reactor is in a sealed compartment. He had to get from his chair to the access panel and enter his code, while suffering life threatening injuries which had already killed the rest of his crew?”
“Yes, Captain. I’m sorry, I missed it, my team is still processing the data, but it looks as if the drone pilot ceased responding several minutes before the shuttle departed the wreck. At five minutes into the flight, the three junior officers began exhibiting distress, but gave no verbal alerts. Mark seems to have reacted to something that triggered a fight or flight response, but within a few seconds was exhibiting the same injury markers as the others. At the six-minute mark, he sent his warning, while moving. It appears as if the cessation of his vocalisations was not the end of his life, almost thirty seconds later his code was entered into the shuttle reactor, and it detonated.”
Captain Van’tu moved to his command chair, and sat down, lower hands grasping the armrests, upper hands folding under his chin. “Helm, chart course back to the nearest Alliance outpost, and warm up the jumpcore. Tactical, bring shields to standby and start charging the grasers, I don’t like what’s happening, and I do not want to be caught with our backs turned.”
His crew moved into action, tactical alerts bringing various stations to readiness.
“Sir! We’re receiving a communications request, uh, from the Nebula Star.”
He stared at his communications officer, who looked equally shocked.
“Please, Jen, put them through to the main holo.”
The hovering image of the wreckage that had once been a shuttle vanished, replaced by the familiastrange image of the old bridge, and its captain.
The man was a corpse, there was no debate. The papery skin had pulled back from his eyes and teeth, his nose collapsed inwards, decades of icy coldness and baking heat as the derelict tumbled slowly from shade to sunlight had freeze dried the body, yet, it moved. The jaw flapped open, and the sticklike arms gestured against the command chair arms, clawed fingertips clicking uselessly.
“Gree. Tings. Un. Known. Vess. Sell. I. Am. Cap. Tan. Morr. Iss. Son. We. Come. In. Peace.”
The corpse in the holo quivered and twitched in some horrible mockery of life, the bared grey teeth clicking as the jaw spasmed open and closed, not, Van’tu noted, in time with the words being spoken. Inside the jaws, he also noticed, something black and shiny and segmented.
“I highly doubt you come with any sort of peace in mind, what are you really, and what did you do to the crew of the shuttle who boarded the ship you are on.”
The body twitched, a trickle of black ooze popping free from the corner of the sunken eye socket. Under the dried up eyelid, something squirmed around, curling with segmented motion, a few pointed claws poking briefly free before vanishing once more.
“I. Am. Cap. Tan. Morr. Iss. Son. We. Come. In. Peace. We. Rek. Wire. Ass. Iss. Tan. Sse. Let. Uss. Board.”
An alert flashed from Sashas direction. A gesture diminished Captain Morrison to a corner of the holo and expanded the view of the derelict. Two shuttles of archaic design had just launched from it and begun making their way towards the Mandrake. He muted his pickup and turned to his tactical officer.
“Jeff? They do not get close enough to board.”
“Aye aye sir, tracking has them locked and my grazers are charged.”
“Very good.”
He returned to the holo and reopened the grisly view of the dead man being puppeted on his display.
“You will not be permitted to board my ship. I demand to know who you are, what you represent, and why you are trying to impersonate Captain Morrison.”
“You. Are. Food. You. Have. Use. Full. Tech. Nol. Ogy. We. Will. Take. It. We. Will. Use. You. We. Will. Mul. Tip. Lie. This. Vess. Hell. Came. To. Us. In. Peace. We. Took. It. We. Came. For. Ter. Rah. We. Became. Trapped. We Became. Lethargic. We have waited. Now you have brought us. A new vessel to carry us. To Terra.”
Captain Van’tu shook his head. If these things were familiar with humans, they’d recognise the gesture. For the sake of understanding he’d long ago learned to at least emulate some human body language.
“You will not be allowed to go any further. I have a duty to safeguard the people under my command, and to the people of… Terra.” Whatever this species was, it was not something he wanted anywhere near a colony or, worse, defenceless homeworld, of any of the Allied or friendly species he knew lay between here and Terra herself. Best for all they only had Terra in mind.
“Sir! The incoming shuttles are not going for docking, they’re on a ramming approach! Firing solution lost on bogey one!” The Mandrakes grazers were firing, gunnery crews managing their weapons as they tracked automatically and fired, spearing one of the wildly corkscrewing shuttles with lances of gravitationally focused gamma radiation. The second shuttle however spun, and fell downwards, smashing into the still warming shields, and through, impacting the Mandrakes hull with tremendous speed.
The scouting vessel shuddered. The shuttle had breached through the outer hull and spilled into a mess area.
Thanks to the alert condition, all crew had been in skinsuits, not that this helped the two cooks who had been finishing off the lockdown of the mess kitchen.
Fresh alerts sounded, the sound of which sent crewpeople to arms lockers. Mandrake had been boarded.
Captain Van’tu pointed to his tactical officer. “Destroy that wreck! vaporise it!”
“Sir! Weapons are offline, on-mount crews are reporting power losses.”
Across the bridge, the communications officer looked up. “Reports coming in, boarders are breaking out of mess two!”
The captain snarled. Ancient Garaboosians had warded off predators with that sound, and his teeth bared in an animalistic threat display. He slammed a finger into the appropriate button on his armrest.
“All hands, all hands, defence stations, repel boarders!”
His head snapped around. “Sasha, do we still have telemetry from the drone on the Nebula? If so, I want it to shut that shitheap down, or overload its reactors!”
His science officer acknowledged with an “Aye captain!” and turned to her console.
He returned to his holo. Removed the mute. “You have attacked an Alliance of Free Stars vessel, while using a Terran Alliance vessel reported lost to causes unknown. I am hereby declaring you to be pirates, and you will be treated accordingly. Surrender now and you will be returned to your government or homeworld after serving a prison term to be determined by Admiralty courts.”
He did not expect the thing pretending to be Captain Morrison to surrender.
“There will be no surrender. We will take all you have and all you are. You will be ours to consume and use.”
His tactical alert flashed, somehow, the older ship was charging its weapons systems. He flicked a gesture, and the old vessels appeared, with sidebars. The weapons were underpowered, and normally not really a threat to a modern vessel, but the Mandrake had just been rammed by a shuttle, cutting power to her own weapons, and disrupting her shields, it would take several more minutes to regenerate them.
He glared at the grinning visage of the corpse which was still mimicking life. The left arm was still quivering against the rest, fingertips drumming against a keypad almost identical to his own. From the bottom of the sunken belly of the dead man, a slowly undulating shape crawled, a thick-pincered head, followed by a segmented body flowing with sharp-tipped clawlike legs. It moved upwards and climbed back in through Morrisons throat.
“Captain, boarders have been destroyed. Sir, they were humans, but they were dead. Like mummies. They had some kinds of bugs inside, we had to go in with plasma to clear them out.”
“I see. Ensure all the bulkhead seals around the messhall compartment are still green, and pull everyone back, full medical scans on exit. Once everyone is clear, blow the compartment.”
“Uh, yes, sir, understood. Engineering teams are saying they’ll have full weapons restored in eight minutes.”
“Good. We can’t allow any of these things to get back to inhabited space. I want that wreck vaporised. Mess compartment too.”
He continued to watch the dead mans fingers rattle against the old command chair. And nodded.
“Captain Morrison, it has been an honour. Captain Van’Tu, out.”
In the holo, the corpse finally went still. The creatures which had inhabited him began to swarm, black blood and ichor bursting from his skull as the mother of the monsters which had ridden his body and his ship since they had tricked their way aboard a century before, burst free from her manipulating, feeding grasp in his skull.
“Captain, the drone has fully copied the Nebula Stars database, but is unable to access any critical systems. I’m sorry.”
“It’s okay Sasha. When we have weapons available, we’ll finish whatever is left.”
“Sir? I don’t understand what…”
The holo tank cut her off. The Nebula Star had fired its engines, angling towards an intercept with the Mandrake, it needed to be much closer to engage with its much more primitive weapons. As the engines flared to life, fire blossomed across the aft hull. Multiple explosions rippled through it, billowing outwards from within, as the reawakened fusion reactors, initially stirred to life by the probes batteries, then by crawling undead crew hidden in the ships dead spaces, all overloaded, and detonated in a final orgy of self-annihilation.
There was a shudder again, as the Mandrakes crew activated the emergency charges that blew an entire section of the ship into space, carrying with it the bodies of dozens of the Nebula Stars crew, hundreds of incinerated and still crawling parasitic alien monsters, and the corpses of two unfortunate cooks.
“Begin sweeping everything in range with fire, maximum power and aperture, everything must burn. I want medical and bio survey teams going around the clock scanning for any trace of those things that might have breached containment. For the record, I will be recommending the Mandrake be scuttled once all crew are cleared and disembarked. Needless to say, we will not be making any landfall or station docks before then.”
He sat down in his command chair. He couldn’t remember standing up. He stared down at his armrest, and the keypad on it. With the fingers of his bottom left hand, he began typing, sending the results to the main holo where Sasha watched, curious.
ENMY HMWRLD r41429.135 i334451 b-1.791 KILL BURN QURTN
The rest of the sequence was the override code that would trigger the Nebula Star to overload its powerplants and blow itself to pieces before it could be used against its creators.
“Captain? How did you get that message? The log entries are still being processed, but it doesn’t look like anything coherent survived, there’s no co-ordinates in them.” Sasha was confused, and Captain Van’Tu smiled.
“Humans, you’re all the same when it comes down to the wire. Mark blew his shuttle rather than let it dock with those things on board. Even while they ate him alive, he crawled through his command, to do his duty to his species, and to the galaxy. Captain Morrison held off death, kept those things guessing, somehow, as they tried to use him, his ship, to reach Earth, made them keep him in some sort of horrific half-life, until they were distracted enough that he could get back control of his hand. His chair Sasha, same as mine. Probably came out of the same factory, a century apart, and he was typing, while they tried to speak to us, while they tried to board us, shoot us, while we distracted them, he set them up to give us the knowledge he knew we would need to ensure they would never threaten anyone again.”
Fire was still blossoming across the larger area of the holo display, graser weapons detonating fragments of hull with nuclear fire.
“Once we’ve cleared the skies here, we head to an outpost, and start warning the Admiralty. Jobs not over until these things are completely contained.”
***
103 Years, 4 months, 5 days before.
Jack staggered, his leg still bleeding from where a crewman had slashed at him with fingers broken into sharp bone claws. He’d stamped the mans head until the skull popped, rupturing the centipede thing curled inside. He was close. The familiar, once comforting hallways of the Nebula Star had become nightmarish, red lighting and blotches of gore, streaks of blood on the pristine walls, he was living in a horror game, but he had a job to finish.
He pushed off the wall he’d leant against. Behind him, he could hear screaming, and begging. He didn’t stop. It was a trick. They found the noises amusing, and mimicked them, discovering that it could draw in ‘helpers’ they could ambush.
Aft section, frame fourteen, jumpcore bay. He slapped the button, and fell through the door as it slid open. Inside, the bay was immaculate, no-one had been in here since this had started. How they had gotten aboard, he didn’t know.
Inside the skull of a landing team member, he could guess.
He knelt beside the humming machinery. His vision was going grey around the edges, he could feel dripping around his knees, he was kneeling in a pool of his own blood after only a few seconds, he didn’t have long.
He pushed his burden against the drive casing, the chem-catalyst agent on the back bonding it to the drive with a molecular weld.
He pressed the keypad of the emergency c4 cannister, the detonator arming with a beep, and a green telltale.
He typed in a code, short, sweet, he’d forgotten it by the time he reached the end, it didn’t matter. The disarm code was only for when you wanted to be able to stop the countdown. Ten seconds.
They reached him, before it finished counting. Inside his brain, they couldn’t find the code to stop the bomb.
The Nebula Star would not reach Terra, he made sure of that.
As the jumpcore failed, blowing a ragged hole out of the sleek hull, a single shuttle spun away from the boatbay, damaged, lifeless, cold and drifting outwards into the depths of space, the mutilated human corpse within stirring once with scurrying life, then going still.

I'd always hated my body. It wasn't a matter of gender, nor race. Nor was it about strength or lack thereof. The sight of my body disgusted me in a way that I couldn't articulate, in a way nobody else understood.
Layers of cloth were all that stood between me and acknowledgement by the world, flowing robes, cloth gloves buttoned tightly to prevent them slipping off, a mask worn, the edges hidden behind the cowl.
The clothing was cursed, of course, designed to never be removed, it was the first thing I'd learned how to do, adding onto it as needed without taking it off. I was the premier expert in curses, I dissected them as one might a living creature, teasing out new runes, new ways in which basic enchantments failed or degraded.
I was the first one to discover that curses became permanent when you accepted it, I'd tested out all forms of curse designed to transform and ensnare, developed new ways to break them, or to change them.
More than a handful of the student body at the Academy had used my altered curses to take on new shape, finding comfort that consistently eluded me in a way that at times enraged me. Yet I never took it out on them, jealousy only breeds malcontent.
As my assistant tested out the curse I'd developed to change physical gender- the joy in her eyes as she had a form that matched what she had outwardly tried to emulate- I filed away the curse as a success and would start applying it to rings to be sold, as per usual.
"Is that all, Professor?" My assistant asked.
"Yes, yes." I said dismissively, trying not to let my jealousy cloud my judgment. "You are no longer needed, however, you are allowed to assist me in the future."
"Professor?" She asked, confused.
I looked at her pointedly. "This was your idea." I stated. "Do not pretend that you did not hope I would succeed. Nobody creates a curse with pure intentions. Someone will always be hurt. You used me, acknowledge it, live with it, as I most assuredly used you."
Yes, she was a bright student, and her fresh perspective had given me some new insights.
"What is your impure intention, Professor?" She asked.
"To reject what I am utterly." I answered bitterly. "You are familiar with self-hatred, Briette, be content you no longer need hate yourself. Go."
She hesitated before leaving.
Every curse I created and studied was a weapon meant to cause pain, the joy they created was an outlier, a repurposing of malicious intent to spite the creator. It takes a special kind of malice to create a particularly potent curse, all-consuming hatred made them particularly permanent, and in the few weeks she had been my assistant, I allowed myself to hate her with every fiber of my being.
I leaned back in my chair, allowing myself to calm down, to let myself feel love, even if I couldn't feel it for myself. It was clarity, a willful separation from pain and loneliness to look upon the good I had done, and the evil I had wrought through my single-minded obsession.
The knock on the door was unusual, yet I allowed them in. The door swung open at my will, and the young student came in, carrying new supplies.
Ah, the new delivery, new materials found in the most recently unearthed dungeon.
"Deposit them at the door." I spoke. "And if you enter, understand any curses you contract will likely indelibly change you."
He walked in, there was fear in his eyes, but also desire. Yes, another one who would seek to use me. "You are either brave or foolish." I spoke calmly.
"I am." He admitted. "I want to make a monster."
"Oh?" I asked. "A foolish desire, one that will be the bane of countless innocents. Leave, you do not need to walk this path."
He shook his head. "No. I'm already familiar with the basics, I know how to safely protect myself from accidental cursing, and I've employed your Third Counterspell Trigram with perfect results." Technically impressive. but not enough to convince me.
"Why do you need to create a monster?" I asked.
"Simply because I need an army." He answered.
I smirked. A child with ambition. "You would ruthlessly use me to your own ends." I spoke.
"Without a second of hesitation." He replied.
"Good. I do not care how you use this army of yours, you will find in time that your ambition was pointless. I ask you, are you capable of hatred?"
"I would kill you where you are, if it meant my victory." He replied.
"That is dispassionate, cold, removed. Show me your hatred, boy, or leave."
He faltered, he knew how to talk the talk, but when pressured to show his might, he couldn't do it. I looked away. "You don't need a monster, boy." I said. "You're simply just angry. Talk with me."
It didn't take much probing for him to break down in tears. It was a common story, he came into his talents at a young age, fools saw his power as something evil, and mistreated him. I simply advised him as I saw fit.
"Be gentle." I said. "Live your life in peace and do unto others as you wish to be treated. There is no greater vengeance than proving them wrong."
He nodded, and we sat for a while in silence. After some time, he asked, "Why do you make curses?" He asked. "Who has wronged you so deeply, that you do this, in spite of your own advice?"
"Simple. I have a foe I hate with such fervent passion, that I will find a way to slaughter them and leave behind nothing." My hatred flared up once more. "The face in the mirror is my enemy, and I will destroy it."
He did not understand, nobody did. However... "Can I watch?"
I nodded. "Observe intently, this is how a curse is made."
Hatred of strong intensity is palpable, his breath caught in his own throat as the weight of my self-loathing crashed into me. He had wanted a monster, I would create one.
I weaved my transformation matrices, the malice coloring my mana blood red. I gathered the components he had brought to me, pieces of monsters, frightening beasts, and hellish fiends. One by one, I offered them up, filling the nascent curse with an all consuming hatred for mankind.
It was the first spell to ever backfire.
All at once, the matrices grew unstable, I knew there was mere seconds. I grasped the student with my power, flung the door open, and threw him down the hallway.
The pain that came was... excruciating.
My ears rang from the explosion, my eyes blurred from the agony that continued to assail me. My body was heavy, but I was alive. I felt my mask fall off and clatter to the ground. My vision began to clear, and I anticipated the revulsion I would feel at the sight of my face against its mirrored shell.
Something else gazed back at me. Thick, blackened flesh, covered in a form of chitin, eyes glowing red and maw replete with rows of fangs. My hands had six digits, each had an extra joint. I pushed myself up, standing was strange, considering my feet had taken on digitigrade stature, with my feet little more than tarsi with wicked claws.
The student, safely out of the blast radius, stared at me with horror. I tried to speak, but a hideous rasp emanated, I then opted for a basic spell, one that would speak for me. "That is what not to do when making a curse."
I began cleaning up my lab, which had fallen into disarray, the student helped, apologizing for putting me in such a position, apologizing for the hideous form I'd taken.
I chuckled, another spell released. "Do not apologize, I rather like what I've become." He looked surprised. "Please report to the Headmaster what has transpired, and let him know I am quite alright. My students will need to be alerted ahead of time that my form has permanently changed." I paused. "Even if I wanted to reverse it, the curse was ill-formed and there is likely some component I forgot to consider. Far better to have it happen to me than you."
He nodded. "I guess I did end up making a monster." He remarked.
"Thank you." I replied, before sending him off to report.

So I watched Hellraiser 2022 recently and I enjoyed it. It's obviously not perfect (some slight corniness, Roland could have had more screen-time, a couple of the side characters were meh) but the violence was effective, the aesthetic was lovely to look at yet dark and moody, the special effects were excellent, the story was gripping, it moved at a decent pace that despite the 2 hour runtime really didn't feel too long or at all padded, it got the whole Hellraiser feel whilst also being a fresh new take on the story, the lead character's journey was interesting and tragic and the Cenobites themselves were genuinely scary.
My favourite aspect was the whole addiction theme which was more deep and well thought out than I expected. I could write an analysis on how the major characters intertwine with that, but I think it's interesting how this theme intertwines with the Cenobites. The biggest thing I noticed amongst Hellraiser fans was the dislike of how they were more evil and willing to kill people in this film, seemingly repeating the whole issue of the sequels making them just villains rather than evil observers. Obviously Roland Voight is the greater scope villain that set this film into motion but it still didn't sit right with people.
Personally, I feel like this isn't as much of an issue when looked at under the lens of the addiction angle. The Cenobites not only have flayed bodies and pale skin which by the end we learn for sure is a sign that these creatures were once human (via Voight changing), but said Cenobite transformation is viewed as a reward with the iconic "Such Sights to Show You" being repurposed to be before a Cenobite transformation. They also seem to relish the opportunity of killing and punishing/rewarding, even having the rule be that anyone injured by the box has to die with the only difference being who dies.
In terms of how this relates to the whole Cenobites being more evil, the Cenobites are representative of the eternal cycle, of never getting enough and always getting more and always causing more problems for the people they give their "Pleasures" too. They're almost like the drug dealers who are addicted themselves but never enough to OD/die and who seem to delight in harming their clients, no matter what. Whether it be a person who makes a deal (with the devil in their case) or someone who just happens to be in the vicinity and get to them via the specifics, they'll dish out whatever taste of their Vice they have.
Pinhead does show honour in letting Riley go and honouring the agreement, but as she states, Riley is gonna carry emotional pain with her rather than physical pain. Like any form of addiction, it'll leave behind scars and that's what the Cenobites want, except they view these as rewards. Roland is punished for his desires twice in different ways with the first way essentially kicking off the narrative since that happens because he wants to get rid of it (get clean basically but clean in the wrong way and via the people who punished him in the first place), Riley's shifting personal desires regarding the box indirectly gets her brother and an innocent women killed (plus puts her brother's boyfriend in danger), Trevor gets killed in his attempts to please his boss, even Serena pays for her past actions ultimately. No one seems to win.
But who do win ultimately? The Cenobites. They're the winners no matter what because they're Addiction in it's purest form and Addiction wins in some fashion everytime even when the addicted person beats it, as I said there's always emotional and/or physical scars left behind. It's a dark and scary take on this theme but metaphorically it makes sense and I think the depiction of the more evil Cenobites works well with this theme.
TL;DR: Addiction theme blends well with the Cenobites being more evil since they represent addiction in it's most dangerous and predatory and damaging form.
Edit: Roland deems them Angels and clearly wanted what they had. A rich man with an addiction for greater power and an indulgence in vices that does bad things to get it and on the one hand gets off Scott Free for a while but still pays the price in some fashion. He’s the most powerful kind of addict and he’s pulled in yet punished by them yet also rewarded in ways that benefit only the Cenobites.

Everything in my inventory is up for trade. The most valuable items are listed here, the rest you can find in My Inventory

Feel free to Add Me or even better send a Trade Offer. Open for any suggestions: upgrades, downgrades / knives, gloves, skins / stickers, patterns, floats.

All Buyouts are listed in cash value.

KNIVES

★ Butterfly Knife Freehand FN #1, B/O: $2500

★ Butterfly Knife Ultraviolet FT, B/O: $822

★ Butterfly Knife Scorched FT, B/O: $616

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★ Bayonet Tiger Tooth MW #1, B/O: $1300

★ Bayonet Autotronic FN, B/O: $1050

★ Bayonet Tiger Tooth MW, B/O: $629

★ Bayonet Bright Water FT, B/O: $326

★ Bayonet Safari Mesh BS, B/O: $233

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★ Karambit Lore FT, B/O: $1110

★ Karambit Damascus Steel FT, B/O: $840

★ Karambit Freehand MW, B/O: $784

★ Karambit Bright Water MW, B/O: $759

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★ M9 Bayonet Fade FN, B/O: $1801

★ M9 Bayonet Fade FN, B/O: $1801

★ M9 Bayonet Damascus Steel FN, B/O: $751

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★ Nomad Knife Fade FN, B/O: $1156

★ Nomad Knife Slaughter MW, B/O: $544

★ Nomad Knife Blue Steel WW, B/O: $318

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★ Flip Knife Marble Fade FN, B/O: $646

★ Flip Knife Doppler (Phase 4) FN, B/O: $574

★ Flip Knife Gamma Doppler (Phase 1) MW, B/O: $552

★ Flip Knife Case Hardened FT, B/O: $257

★ Flip Knife Freehand FT, B/O: $255

★ StatTrak™ Flip Knife Bright Water FN, B/O: $287

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★ Huntsman Knife Lore FN, B/O: $461

★ Huntsman Knife Gamma Doppler (Phase 4) FN, B/O: $436

★ Huntsman Knife Doppler (Phase 3) FN, B/O: $353

★ Huntsman Knife Autotronic FT, B/O: $212

★ Huntsman Knife Bright Water FT, B/O: $129

★ Huntsman Knife Forest DDPAT MW, B/O: $129

★ Huntsman Knife Forest DDPAT BS, B/O: $123

★ StatTrak™ Huntsman Knife Rust Coat BS, B/O: $127

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★ Bowie Knife Gamma Doppler (Phase 2) FN, B/O: $375

★ Bowie Knife Gamma Doppler (Phase 1) FN, B/O: $363

★ Bowie Knife Tiger Tooth FN, B/O: $269

★ Bowie Knife Crimson Web WW, B/O: $192

★ Bowie Knife Bright Water FN, B/O: $159

★ Bowie Knife Ultraviolet FT, B/O: $126

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★ Stiletto Knife Slaughter FN, B/O: $616

★ Stiletto Knife Crimson Web FT, B/O: $412

★ StatTrak™ Stiletto Knife Night Stripe FT, B/O: $227

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★ Falchion Knife Lore FT, B/O: $214

★ Falchion Knife Autotronic FT, B/O: $192

★ Falchion Knife Scorched WW, B/O: $105

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★ Survival Knife Crimson Web BS, B/O: $216

★ Survival Knife Case Hardened FT, B/O: $198

★ Survival Knife Scorched FT, B/O: $111

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★ Shadow Daggers Fade FN, B/O: $368

★ Shadow Daggers Doppler (Phase 3) FN, B/O: $228

★ Shadow Daggers, B/O: $201

★ Shadow Daggers Damascus Steel FT, B/O: $108

★ Shadow Daggers Ultraviolet FT, B/O: $105

★ Shadow Daggers Black Laminate FT, B/O: $99

★ Shadow Daggers Forest DDPAT FT, B/O: $85

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★ Gut Knife Doppler (Sapphire) MW #1, B/O: $1700

★ Gut Knife Gamma Doppler (Phase 1) FN, B/O: $223

★ Gut Knife Marble Fade FN, B/O: $203

★ Gut Knife Doppler (Phase 2) FN, B/O: $191

★ Gut Knife Case Hardened BS, B/O: $127

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★ Navaja Knife Doppler (Phase 4) FN, B/O: $199

★ Navaja Knife Doppler (Phase 4) FN, B/O: $199

★ Navaja Knife, B/O: $138

★ Navaja Knife Damascus Steel FN, B/O: $111

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★ Classic Knife Urban Masked FT, B/O: $146

★ StatTrak™ Classic Knife Stained BS, B/O: $168

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★ Ursus Knife Doppler (Phase 3) FN, B/O: $476

★ Ursus Knife, B/O: $375

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★ Skeleton Knife, B/O: $1137

★ Talon Knife, B/O: $608

★ Paracord Knife, B/O: $305

★ Survival Knife Forest DDPAT FT, B/O: $97

GLOVES

★ Moto Gloves Transport MW, B/O: $204

★ Moto Gloves Polygon BS, B/O: $142

★ Moto Gloves Blood Pressure BS, B/O: $84

★ Moto Gloves Blood Pressure BS, B/O: $84

★ Moto Gloves 3rd Commando Company BS, B/O: $63

★ Moto Gloves 3rd Commando Company BS, B/O: $63

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★ Specialist Gloves Crimson Kimono WW, B/O: $1215

★ Specialist Gloves Tiger Strike FT, B/O: $672

★ Specialist Gloves Lt. Commander FT, B/O: $305

★ Specialist Gloves Lt. Commander BS, B/O: $140

★ Specialist Gloves Crimson Web BS, B/O: $137

★ Specialist Gloves Buckshot FT, B/O: $75

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★ Driver Gloves Crimson Weave FT, B/O: $359

★ Driver Gloves Imperial Plaid BS, B/O: $229

★ Driver Gloves Overtake BS, B/O: $77

★ Driver Gloves Racing Green FT, B/O: $48

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★ Sport Gloves Omega FT, B/O: $739

★ Sport Gloves Amphibious BS #2, B/O: $733

★ Sport Gloves Arid BS, B/O: $292

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★ Hand Wraps Giraffe MW, B/O: $212

★ Hand Wraps Leather FT, B/O: $160

★ Hand Wraps Desert Shamagh MW, B/O: $101

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★ Broken Fang Gloves Yellow-banded MW, B/O: $185

★ Broken Fang Gloves Needle Point FT, B/O: $67

★ Broken Fang Gloves Needle Point WW, B/O: $59

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★ Hydra Gloves Case Hardened BS, B/O: $65

★ Hydra Gloves Emerald FT, B/O: $65

★ Hydra Gloves Emerald BS, B/O: $62

WEAPONS

AK-47 Case Hardened BS, B/O: $130

AK-47 Bloodsport MW, B/O: $79

AK-47 Fuel Injector BS, B/O: $76

AK-47 Fuel Injector BS, B/O: $76

AK-47 Bloodsport FT, B/O: $70

AK-47 Neon Rider MW, B/O: $60

StatTrak™ AK-47 Aquamarine Revenge FT, B/O: $72

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AWP Fade FN, B/O: $1039

AWP Asiimov FT, B/O: $139

AWP Asiimov FT, B/O: $139

AWP Wildfire MW, B/O: $95

AWP BOOM MW, B/O: $93

AWP BOOM MW, B/O: $93

AWP Duality FN, B/O: $81

AWP Asiimov BS, B/O: $79

AWP Asiimov BS, B/O: $79

AWP Chromatic Aberration FN, B/O: $60

StatTrak™ AWP Hyper Beast FT, B/O: $68

StatTrak™ AWP Hyper Beast FT, B/O: $68

StatTrak™ AWP Electric Hive FT, B/O: $55

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Desert Eagle Blaze FN, B/O: $623

Desert Eagle Emerald Jörmungandr FN, B/O: $241

Desert Eagle Cobalt Disruption FN, B/O: $81

Desert Eagle Cobalt Disruption FN, B/O: $81

Desert Eagle Cobalt Disruption FN, B/O: $81

Desert Eagle Printstream FT, B/O: $54

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M4A1-S Blue Phosphor FN, B/O: $434

StatTrak™ M4A1-S Bright Water MW, B/O: $55

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M4A4 Poseidon FN, B/O: $1465

M4A4 Asiimov BS, B/O: $55

M4A4 Hellfire MW, B/O: $50

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USP-S Kill Confirmed MW, B/O: $72

USP-S Printstream FT, B/O: $69

StatTrak™ USP-S Kill Confirmed FT, B/O: $139

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AUG Flame Jörmungandr FN, B/O: $234

P90 Run and Hide FT, B/O: $147

Five-SeveN Candy Apple FN, B/O: $61

Trade Offer Link - Steam Profile Link - My Inventory

Knives - Bowie Knife, Butterfly Knife, Falchion Knife, Flip Knife, Gut Knife, Huntsman Knife, M9 Bayonet, Bayonet, Karambit, Shadow Daggers, Stiletto Knife, Ursus Knife, Navaja Knife, Talon Knife, Classic Knife, Paracord Knife, Survival Knife, Nomad Knife, Skeleton Knife, Patterns - Gamma Doppler, Doppler (Phase 1, Phase 2, Phase 3, Phase 4, Black Pearl, Sapphire, Ruby, Emerald), Crimson Web, Lore, Fade, Ultraviolet, Night, Marble Fade (Fire & Ice, Fake FI), Case Hardened (Blue Gem), Autotronic, Slaughter, Black Laminate, Tiger Tooth, Boreal Forest, Scorched, Blue Steel, Vanilla, Damascus Steel, Forest DDPAT, Urban Masked, Freehand, Stained, Bright Water, Safari Mesh, Rust Coat, Gloves - Bloodhound Gloves (Charred, Snakebite, Guerrilla, Bronzed), Driver Gloves (Snow Leopard, King Snake, Crimson Weave, Imperial Plaid, Black Tie, Lunar Weave, Diamondback, Rezan the Red, Overtake, Queen Jaguar, Convoy, Racing Green), Hand Wraps (Cobalt Skulls, CAUTION!, Overprint, Slaughter, Leather, Giraffe, Badlands, Spruce DDPAT, Arboreal, Constrictor, Desert Shamagh, Duct Tape), Moto Gloves (Spearmint, POW!, Cool Mint, Smoke Out, Finish Line, Polygon, Blood Pressure, Turtle, Boom!, Eclipse, 3rd Commando Company, Transport), Specialist Gloves (Crimson Kimono, Tiger Strike, Emerald Web, Field Agent, Marble Fade, Fade, Foundation, Lt. Commander, Crimson Web, Mogul, Forest DDPAT, Buckshot), Sport Gloves (Pandora's Box, Superconductor, Hedge Maze, Vice, Amphibious, Slingshot, Omega, Arid, Big Game, Nocts, Scarlet Shamagh, Bronze Morph), Hydra Gloves (Case Hardened, Emerald, Rattler, Mangrove), Broken Fang Gloves (Jade, Yellow-banded, Unhinged, Needle Point), Pistols - P2000 (Wicked Sick, Ocean Foam, Fire Element, Amber Fade, Corticera, Chainmail, Imperial Dragon, Obsidian, Scorpion, Handgun, Acid Etched), USP-S (Printstream, Kill Confirmed, Whiteout, Road Rash, Owergrowth, The Traitor, Neo-Noir, Dark Water, Orion, Blueprint, Stainless, Caiman, Serum, Monster Mashup, Royal Blue, Ancient Visions, Cortex, Orange Anolis, Ticket To Hell, Black Lotus, Cyrex, Check Engine, Guardian, Purple DDPAT, Torque, Blood Tiger, Flashback, Business Class, Pathfinder, Para Green), Lead Conduit, Glock-18 (Umbral Rabbit, Fade, Candy Apple, Bullet Queen, Synth Leaf, Neo-Noir, Nuclear Garden, Dragon Tatto, Reactor, Pink DDPAT, Twilight Galaxy, Sand Dune, Groundwater, Blue Fissure, Snack Attack, Water Elemental, Brass, Wasteland Rebel, Vogue, Franklin, Royal Legion, Gamma Doppler, Weasel, Steel Disruption, Ironwork, Grinder, High Beam, Moonrise, Oxide Blaze, Bunsen Burner, Clear Polymer, Bunsen Burner, Night), P250 (Re.built, Nuclear Threat, Modern Hunter, Splash, Whiteout, Vino Primo, Mehndi, Asiimov, Visions, Undertow, Cartel, See Ya Later, Gunsmoke, Splash, Digital Architect, Muertos, Red Rock, Bengal Tiger, Crimson Kimono, Wingshot, Metallic DDPAT, Hive, Dark Filigree, Mint Kimono), Five-Seven (Neon Kimono, Berries And Cherries, Fall Hazard, Crimson Blossom, Hyper Beast, Nitro, Fairy Tale, Case Hardened, Copper Galaxy, Angry Mob, Monkey Business, Fowl Play, Anodized Gunmetal, Hot Shot, Retrobution, Boost Protocol), CZ75-Auto (Chalice, Crimson Web, Emerald Quartz, The Fuschia is Now, Nitro, Xiangliu, Yellow Jacket, Victoria, Poison Dart, Syndicate, Eco, Hexane, Pole, Tigris), Tec-9 (Rebel, Terrace, Nuclear Threat, Hades, Rust Leaf, Decimator, Blast From, Orange Murano, Toxic, Fuel Injector, Remote Control, Bamboo Forest, Isaac, Avalanche, Brother, Re-Entry, Blue Titanium, Bamboozle), R8 Revolver (Banana Cannon, Fade, Blaze, Crimson Web, Liama Cannon, Crazy 8, Reboot, Canal Spray, Night, Amber Fade), Desert Eagle (Blaze, Hand Cannon, Fennec Fox, Sunset Storm, Emerald Jörmungandr, Pilot, Hypnotic, Golden Koi, Printstream, Cobalt Disruption, Code Red, Ocean Drive, Midnight Storm, Kumicho Dragon, Crimson Web, Heirloom, Night Heist, Mecha Industries, Night, Conspiracy, Trigger Discipline, Naga, Directive, Light Rail), Dual Berettas (Flora Carnivora, Duelist, Cobra Strike, Black Limba, Emerald, Hemoglobin, Twin Turbo, Marina, Melondrama, Pyre, Retribution, Briar, Dezastre, Royal Consorts, Urban Shock, Dualing Dragons, Panther, Balance), Rifles - Galil (Aqua Terrace, Winter Forest, Chatterbox, Sugar Rush, Pheonix Blacklight, CAUTION!, Orange DDPAT, Cerberus, Dusk Ruins, Eco, Chromatic Aberration, Stone Cold, Tuxedo, Sandstorm, Shattered, Urban Rubble, Rocket Pop, Kami, Crimson Tsunami, Connexion), SCAR-20 (Fragments, Brass, Cyrex, Palm, Splash Jam, Cardiac, Emerald, Crimson Web, Magna Carta, Stone Mosaico, Bloodsport, Enforcer), AWP (Duality, Gungnir, Dragon Lore, Prince, Medusa, Desert Hydra, Fade, Lightning Strike, Oni Taiji, Silk Tiger, Graphite, Chromatic Aberration, Asiimov, Snake Camo, Boom, Containment Breach, Wildfire, Redline, Electric Hive, Hyper Beast, Neo-Noir, Man-o'-war, Pink DDPAT, Corticera, Sun in Leo, Elite Build, Fever Dream, Atheris, Mortis, PAW, Exoskeleton, Worm God, POP AWP, Phobos, Acheron, Pit Viper, Capillary, Safari Mesh), AK-47 (Head Shot, Wild Lotus, Gold Arabesque, X-Ray, Fire Serpent, Hydroponic, Panthera Onca, Case Hardened, Vulcan, Jet Set, Fuel Injector, Bloodsport, Nightwish, First Class, Neon Rider, Asiimov, Red Laminate, Aquamarine Revenge, The Empress, Wasteland Rebel, Jaguar, Black Laminate, Leet Museo, Neon Revolution, Redline, Frontside Misty, Predator, Legion of Anubis, Point Disarray, Orbit Mk01, Blue Laminate, Green Laminate, Emerald Pinstripe, Cartel, Phantom Disruptor, Jungle Spray, Safety Net, Rat Rod, Baroque Purple, Slate, Elite Build, Uncharted, Safari Mesh), FAMAS (Sundown, Prime Conspiracy, Afterimage, Commemoration, Dark Water, Spitfire, Pulse, Eye of Athena, Meltdown, Rapid Eye Move, Roll Cage, Styx, Mecha Industrie, Djinn, ZX Spectron, Valence, Neural Net, Night Borre, Hexne), M4A4 (Temukau, Howl, Poseidon, Asiimov, Daybreak, Hellfire, Zirka, Red DDPAT, Radiation Hazard, Modern Hunter, The Emperor, The Coalition, Bullet Rain, Cyber Security, X-Ray, Dark Blossom, Buzz Kill, In Living Color, Neo-Noir, Desolate Space, 龍王 (Dragon King), Royal Paladin, The Battlestar, Global Offensive, Tooth Fairy, Desert-Strike, Griffin, Evil Daimyo, Spider Lily, Converter), M4A1-S (Emphorosaur-S, Welcome to the Jungle, Imminent Danger, Knight, Hot Rod, Icarus Fell, Blue Phosphor, Printstream, Master Piece, Dark Water, Golden Coil, Bright Water, Player Two, Atomic Alloy, Guardian, Chantico's Fire, Hyper Beast, Mecha Industries, Cyrex, Control Panel, Moss Quartz, Nightmare, Decimator, Leaded Glass, Basilisk, Blood Tiger, Briefing, Night Terror, Nitro, VariCamo, Flashback), SG 553 (Cyberforce, Hazard Pay, Bulldozer, Integrale, Dragon Tech, Ultraviolet, Colony IV, Hypnotic, Cyrex, Candy Apple, Barricade, Pulse), SSG 08 (Death Strike, Sea Calico, Blood in the Water, Orange Filigree, Dragonfire, Big Iron, Bloodshot, Detour, Turbo Peek, Red Stone), AUG (Akihabara Accept, Flame Jörmungandr, Hot Rod, Midnight Lily, Sand Storm, Carved Jade, Wings, Anodized Navy, Death by Puppy, Torque, Bengal Tiger, Chameleon, Fleet Flock, Random Access, Momentum, Syd Mead, Stymphalian, Arctic Wolf, Aristocrat, Navy Murano), G3SG1 (Chronos, Violet Murano, Flux, Demeter, Orange Kimono, The Executioner, Green Apple, Arctic Polar Camo, Contractor), SMGs - P90 (Neoqueen, Astral Jörmungandr, Run and Hide, Emerald Dragon, Cold Blooded, Death by Kitty, Baroque Red, Vent Rush, Blind Spot, Asiimov, Trigon, Sunset Lily, Death Grip, Leather, Nostalgia, Fallout Warning, Tiger Pit, Schermatic, Virus, Shapewood, Glacier Mesh, Shallow Grave, Chopper, Desert Warfare), MAC-10 (Sakkaku, Hot Snakes, Copper Borre, Red Filigree, Gold Brick, Graven, Case Hardened, Stalker, Amber Fade, Neon Rider, Tatter, Curse, Propaganda, Nuclear Garden, Disco Tech, Toybox, Heat, Indigo), UMP-45 (Wild Child, Fade, Blaze, Day Lily, Minotaur's Labyrinth, Crime Scene, Caramel, Bone Pile, Momentum, Primal Saber), MP7 (Teal Blossom, Fade, Nemesis, Whiteout, Asterion, Bloosport, Abyssal Apparition, Full Stop, Special Delivery, Neon Ply, Asterion, Ocean Foam, Powercore, Scorched, Impire), PP-Bizon (Modern Hunter, Rust Coat, Forest Leaves, Antique, High Roller, Blue Streak, Seabird, Judgement of Anubis, Bamboo Print, Embargo, Chemical Green, Coblat Halftone, Fuel Rod, Photic Zone, Irradiated Alert, Carbon Fiber), MP9 (Featherweight, Wild Lily, Pandora's Box, Stained Glass, Bulldozer, Dark Age, Hot Rod, Hypnotic, Hydra, Rose Iron, Music Box, Setting Sun, Food Chain, Airlock, Mount Fuji, Starlight Protector, Ruby Poison Dart, Deadly Poison), MP5-SD (Liquidation, Oxide Oasis, Phosphor, Nitro, Agent, Autumn Twilly), Shotguns, Machineguns - Sawed-Off (Kiss♥Love, First Class, Orange DDPAT, Rust Coat, The Kraken, Devourer, Mosaico, Wasteland Princess, Bamboo Shadow, Copper, Serenity, Limelight, Apocalypto), XM1014 (Frost Borre, Ancient Lore, Red Leather, Elegant Vines, Banana Leaf, Jungle, Urban Perforated, Grassland, Blaze Orange, Heaven Guard, VariCamo Blue, Entombed, XOXO, Seasons, Tranquility, Bone Machine, Incinegator, Teclu Burner, Black Tie, Zombie Offensive, Watchdog), Nova (Baroque Orange, Hyper Beast, Green Apple, Antique, Modern Hunter, Walnut, Forest Leaves, Graphite, Blaze Orange, Rising Skull, Tempest, Bloomstick, Interlock, Quick Sand, Moon in Libra, Clean Polymer, Red Quartz, Toy Soldier), MAG-7 (Insomnia, Cinqueda, Counter Terrace, Prism Terrace, Memento, Chainmail, Hazard, Justice, Bulldozer, Silver, Core Breach, Firestarter, Praetorian, Heat, Hard Water, Monster Call, BI83 Spectrum, SWAG-7), M249 (Humidor, Shipping Forecast, Blizzard Marbleized, Downtown, Jungle DDPAT, Nebula Crusader, Impact Drill, Emerald Poison Dart), Negev (Mjölnir, Anodized Navy, Palm, Power Loader, Bratatat, CaliCamo, Phoenix Stencil, Infrastructure, Boroque Sand), Wear - Factory New (FN), Minimal Wear (MW), Field-Tested (FT), Well-Worn (WW), Battle-Scarred (BS), Stickers Holo/Foil/Gold - Katowice 2014, Krakow 2017, Howling Dawn, Katowice 2015, Crown, London 2018, Cologne 2014, Boston 2018, Atlanta 2017, Cluj-Napoca 2015, DreamHack 2014, King on the Field, Harp of War, Winged Difuser, Cologne 2016, Cologne 2015, MLG Columbus 2016, Katowice 2019, Berlin 2019, RMR 2020, Stockholm 2021, Antwerp 2022, Swag Foil, Flammable foil, Others - Souvenirs, Agents, Pins, Passes, Gifts, Music Kits, Cases, Keys, Capsules, Packages, Patches

Some items on the list may no longer be available or are still locked, visit My Inventory for more details.

Send a Trade Offer for fastest response. I consider all offers.

Add me for discuss if there is a serious offer that needs to be discussed.

It was Danvers who finally pushed him in. We’d been feeding the fire with hardwood since the afternoon and it had gotten big as the wind picked up by nightfall, flickering cross our faces and warming our cheeks better than a gas heater. He didn’t even scream when he fell. The flames just swallowed him up—sparks shooting out like hot vomit. He knew what he’d done. He knew it was wrong. When he lifted himself up and came out of the fire he stood dead still, staring at us, smiling like we’d done him a favour. Maybe he thought he deserved to turn into ash. Maybe he did deserve it. I know I kept my fingers tight round the handle of the axe just the same till he keeled over and Cauley had touched the corpse with his foot and we knew he was dead. The three of us, we kept silent for a long while after that. There was just the sound of wood burning and it was better that way. None of us touched the body but none of us looked away, either: you could still make out his face, unmistakable, when the rest of him was dark and formless. He was a face on a pile. Then the wind started taking bits and pieces and carrying them away. Like I told the police, he didn’t touch me, but I knew some of the kids he’d done it to. He’d done it to Danvers. I remember once when all the other kids were gone, I’d stayed after class, Mr Gregor bent himself close to my ear and told me the real story. “You’re a wicked one,” he said when he was done, “just like Don Whitman.”
They used to scare us with Don Whitman, the adults: the other teachers, our parents, the priest. But no one ever explained it. They’d just say, “You better do what we want or else Don Whitman will come back and get you.” Mr Gregor was the only one ever to tell it to me with details. He told it different, too. He said he remembered because he was the same age as Don Whitman and they went to the same school. He said that what the others say they remember is like Cain and Abel or Little Red Riding Hood. Even the landscape tells the fairy tale. After it happened, Don Whitman’s school got torn down, then his house. And the bells in the Church got changed: the ones they rang after Elizabeth Cartwell had come back hysterical with the news.
You can’t tear down or change a man’s memory, Mr Gregor told me.
Once you see, it’s forever.
Elizabeth Cartwell’s parents moved away as soon as the police investigation finished. A lot of people moved away. But Mr Gregor showed me a newspaper from Hill City, North Dakota from some years later. The paper was yellow but you could read the black print fine. The story was about a girl who’d killed herself. The photo was of Elizabeth Cartwell. As he held it out for me to see, his hand shook and I felt his breath grow warmer against the skin around my neck. Nothing made him shake as much as what happened to Elizabeth Cartwell, not even the details.
Don Whitman was seventeen when he did it. He was handsome, with wide shoulders and played football. All the girls liked him. He was going to go to college. Maybe that’s why they thought he was ready: they thought he was a man. They thought he’d be with them. It was a school night when they woke him and drove out to the old pumping station, so that he could see everything for himself. They wanted to make him a part of it just like they were. If he saw, he would want it just like they did. I was always told that he drove out there by himself, but Mr Gregor told me that’s part of the lie. He said Don Whitman’s father was in the car with the mayor and the chief of police. He said, “How would he have found the place by himself—why would he have gone looking?”
The place is in a wood not far from the border. Of course, the whole underground is filled with cement now, but you can still see where the opening used to be: a fat tube sticking out of the ground, just big enough for a man to crawl down into. There was a hatch on it then, and thick locks. The hatch was sound-proof. If you stood right beside it, you couldn’t hear a thing, but as soon as you opened the hatch you could smell the insides and hear the moans start to drift upwards into the world. A steel ladder led down. Mr Gregor says they all knew about it, everyone: all the adults. They’d all been down that ladder. All of them had seen it.
Don Whitman went down the ladder, too. He must have smelled the insides grow stronger and heard the moaning echo louder with every rung but he kept going. On the ground above, his father spoke to the mayor and they both felt proud. Don Whitman must have been more scared of coming up and disappointing them than of not going down to the limit. But when he reached the bottom, the very bottom, and put his feet to the hard concrete and saw it before his own eyes, something inside of him must have broken—
“They sugarcoat it and they make a child’s game of it because they’re too scared to remember the truth,” Mr Gregor told me. “They can’t forget it, but it’s a stain to them, so they cover it up and pretend that everything’s clean.”
Don Whitman saw the vastness of the interlocking chambers and, within them, the writhing, ecstatic, swollen no-people of the underground, human-like but non-human, cross-bred mammals draped in plaster-white skin pinned to numb faces, men, women and children, male and female, naked, scared, dirty, with humans—humans Don Whitman knew and recognized—among them, on them and under them, hitting them, squeezing them, making them hurt, making monstrous sounds with them, all under slowly rotating heat lamps, all open and together, one before another, and then someone, someone Don Whitman knew, must have put a hand on Don Whitman’s shoulder and Don Whitman would have asked, “But what now, what am I supposed to do?” and then, from somewhere deep within the chambers, from a place not even Don Whitman would ever see, a voice answered:
“Anything.”
Mr Gregor pulled away from me and I felt my body turn cold. Icy sweat crawled under my collar and below my thighs.
I’d been told Don Whitman had found the old pumping station and lured the police to it, that they’d called others—including Don Whitman’s father—to talk him out of any violence, but that he’d snapped and murdered them all without firing a single shot, with his bare hands, and dumped the bodies into the metal pipe sticking out of the ground, the one just wide enough for a man to fit through. Then he’d disappeared. It wasn’t until days later that Elizabeth Cartwell found the bodies and there was never any sign of Don Whitman after that. The manhunt failed. So the church bells rang, the school was torn down, the pipe was filled in and, ever since, the adults scare their children with the story of the high school boy who’d done a terrible, sinful thing and vanished into thin air.
“And why would she decide to go out there?” Mr Gregor asked—meaning Elizabeth Cartwell—his eyes dead-set through a window at the raining world outside. “It’s as transparent as a sheet of the Bible, every word of it. They all pretend to believe because they’ve all made it up together. But the police reports, the testimony, the news stories, the court records, the verdict: a sham, a falsification made truth because a thousand people and a judge repeat it, word-for-word, every night before bed.”
I tried to stand but couldn’t. My heart was pounding me back into the chair. I was thinking about my mother and father. I had only enough courage for one question, so I asked, “What happened to the no-people?”
Mr Gregor turned suddenly and laughed so fierce the rain lashed the windows even harder. He came toward me. He put a delicate hand on each of my shoulders. He bent forward until his lips were almost touching mine and, his eyes staring at me like one stares at the Devil, said:
“Buried in the concrete. Buried alive, buried dead—”
I pushed him away.
He stumbled backward without losing his balance.
I forced myself off the chair, praying that my legs would keep. My knees shook but held. In front of me, Mr Gregor rasped for air. A few long strands of his thin hair had fallen across his forehead. He was sweating.
“He was a coward, that little boy, Don Whitman. Without him, we wouldn’t need to live under the whip of elaborate lies designed by weaker people turned away and shamed by the power of the natural order of things. They trusted him, and he betrayed us all. The fools! The weakling! Imagine,” Mr Gregor hissed, “just imagine what we could have had, what we could have experienced down there, at the very bottom, in the chambers...”
His eyes spun and his chest heaved as he grew excited, but soon he lost his venom and his voice returned to normal.
Finally, he said without any nastiness, “You’re a wicked one, just like Don Whitman.”
And I ran out.
Danvers prodded me awake. I must have fallen asleep during the night because when I opened my eyes it was morning already. The sun was up and the flames gone, but the fire was still warm. Mr Gregor’s dead face still rested atop a pile of ashes. Cauley was asleep on the dirt across from us. I could tell Danvers hadn’t slept at all. He said he’d been to a farmhouse and called the police. We woke up Cauley and talked over what we’d say when they got here. We decided on something close to the truth: Mr Gregor had taken the three of us camping and, when he tried to do a bad thing, we put up a fight and knocked him into the flames. Cauley said it might be suspicious because of how easily Mr Gregor had burned, but Danvers said that some people were like that—they burned quick and whole—so we needn’t say a word about the gasoline. When the police came, they were professional and treated us fair, but when they took me aside to talk to me about the accident, every time I tried to tell them about the bad things Mr Gregor had done, they wouldn’t hear it, they just said it was a shame there’d been an accident and someone had died.
At home, I asked my parents whether Mr Gregor was a bad person for what he’d done to Danvers and others. My mother didn’t say anything. My father looked at me like he was looking at the Devil himself and said morality was not so simple and that people had differing points of view and that, in the end, much depended not on what you did, but who you did it to—like during the war, for example. There were some who deserved to be done-to and others whose privilege it was to do. Then he picked up his magazine and told me it was best not to think about such things at all.
I did keep thinking about them, and about Don Whitman, too. When I got to high school, I was too old to scare with monsters, but once in a while I’d hear one of the adults tell a kid he better do as he’d been told or Don Whitman would come back and get him. I wondered if maybe people scare others with monsters they’re most scared of themselves. I even thought about investigating: taking a pick-axe to the pumping station and cracking through concrete or investigating records of how much of it had been poured in there. But I figured the records could have been fixed and one person with a pick-axe wouldn’t get far before the police came and I didn’t trust them anymore. I also had homework to worry about and I started seeing a girl.
I’d almost forgotten about Don Whitman by the time my mother sent me out one evening with my dad’s rifle to hunt down a coyote she said had been attacking her hens. I took a bike, because it was quiet, and was roaming just beyond town when I saw something kick up dust in a field. I shot at it, missed and it scurried off. I pedaled after it until it seemingly disappeared into nowhere. I kept my eye firm on the spot I saw it last and when I got close enough, I saw there was a small hole in the ground there. I stuck the rifle in and the hole felt bigger on the inside, so I stomped all around till the hole caved and where there’d been a mouse-sized hole now there was an opening a grown man could fit through. It seemed deep, which made me curious, because there aren’t many caves around here, so I stuck my feet in but still couldn’t feel the bottom. I slid in a little further, and further still, and soon the opening was above my head and I was inside with my whole body.
It was dark but I could feel the ground sloping. When my eyes accustomed to the gloom, I saw enough to tell there was a tunnel leading into the depths and that it was big enough for me to crawl through. I didn’t have a light but I knew it was important to try the hole. Maybe there were no-people at the bottom. Mostly, though, I didn’t think—I expected: that every time I poked ahead with the rifle, I’d hit earth and the tunnel would be done.
That never happened. I descended for hours. The tunnel grew narrower and the slope sharpened. Fear tightened around my chest. I lost track of time. There wasn’t enough space to turn my body around and I’d been descending for so long it was foolish to backtrack. Surely, the tunnel led somewhere. It was not a natural tunnel, I told myself, it must lead somewhere. I should continue until I reached the end, turn around and return to the surface. The trick was to keep calm and keep moving forward.
And I was right. Several hours later the tunnel ended and I crawled out through a hollow in the wall of a huge grotto.
I stood, stretched my limbs and squinted through the dimness. I couldn’t see the other end of the grotto but the wall curved so I thought that maybe if I went along I might get to the other end. My plan of an immediate return to the surface was on hold. I had to see what lived here. Images of no-people raced through my head. I readied my rifle and proceeded, slowly at first. Where the tunnel had been packed dirt and clay, the walls and floor of the grotto were solid rock. There was moisture, too. It flowed down the walls and gathered in depressions on the floor.
Although at first the wall felt smooth, soon I began to feel a texture to it—like a washboard. The ceiling faded into view. The grotto was getting smaller. And the texture was becoming rougher, more violent. I was thinking about the texture and Mr Gregor’s burnt body when a sound sent me sprawling. My elbow banged against the rock and I nearly cried out. My heart was beating like it had beaten me into my chair in the classroom. The sound was real: faint but clear and echoing. It was the sound of continuous and rhythmic scratching.
I crawled forward, holding the rifle in front. The scratching grew louder. I thought about calling out, but suddenly felt foolish to believe in no-people or anything of that kind. It seemed more sensible to believe in large rodents or coyotes with sharp teeth. I could have turned back, but the only thing more frightening than a monster in front is a monster behind, so I pulled myself on.
In fact, I was crawling up a small hill and, when I had reached the top, I looked down and there it was:
His was a human body. Though hunched, he stood on human legs and scratched with human hands. His movements were also clearly a man’s movements. There was nothing feminine about them. His half-translucent skin was grey, almost white, and taut; and if he had any hair, I didn’t see it. His naked body was completely smooth. I looked at him for a long time with dread and disgust. His arms didn’t stop moving. Whatever they were scratching, they kept scratching. Even when he turned and his head looked at me, even as I—stunned—frozen in terror, recoiled against the wall, still his arms kept moving and his hands clawing.
For a few seconds, I thought he’d seen me, that I was done for.
I gripped the rifle tight.
But as I focused on his face, I realized he hadn’t seen me at all. He couldn’t see me. His face, so much like a colourless swollen skull, was punctuated by two black and empty eye sockets.
He turned back to face the wall he was scratching. I turned my face, too. The texture on the wall was his. The deeper the grooves, the newer the work. I put down the rifle and put my hand on the wall, letting my fingers trace the contours of the texture. It wasn’t simple lines. The scratching wasn’t meaningless. These were two words repeated over and over, sometimes on top of each other, sometimes backwards, sometimes small, sometimes each letter as big as a person, and they were all around this vast underground lair, everywhere you looked—
Two words: Don Whitman.
He’d made this grotto. I felt feverish. The sheer greatness, the determination needed to scratch out such a place with one’s bare hands. Or perhaps the insanity—the punishment. If I hadn’t been sitting, a wave of empathy would have knocked me to the wet, rocky floor. I picked up the rifle. I could put Don Whitman out of his misery. I lifted the rifle and pointed it at the distant figure writing his name pointlessly into the wall. With one pull of the trigger, I could show him infinite mercy. I steadied myself. I said a prayer.
Don Whitman stopped scratching and wailed.
I bit down on my teeth.
I hadn’t fired yet.
He grabbed his head and fell to his knees. The high-pitched sound coming from his throat was unbearable. I felt like my mind was being ripped apart. I dropped the rifle and covered my ears. Again, Don Whitman turned. This time with his entire body. He crawled a few steps toward me—still wailing—before stopping and falling silent. He raised his head. Where before had been just eye sockets now there were eyes. White, with irises. Somehow, they’d grown.
He got to his feet and I was sure that he could see me now. He was staring at me. I called his name:
“Don Whitman!”
He didn’t react. Thoughts raced through my mind: what should I do once he comes toward me? Should I defend myself or should I embrace him?
But he didn’t step forward.
He took one step back and lifted his long fingers to his face. His nails, I now saw, were thick and curved as a bird’s talons. He moved them softly from his forehead, down his cheeks and up to his eyes, into which, without warning, he pressed them so painfully that I felt my own eyes burn. When he brought his fingers back out, in each hand he held a mashed and bleeding eyeball. These he put almost greedily into his mouth, one after the other, then chewed, and swallowed.
Having nourished his body, he returned to the wall and began scratching again.
As I watched the movements of his arms, able to follow the pattern of the letters they were carving, I no longer felt like killing him. If he wanted to die, he could die: he could forego water, he could refuse to eat. He didn’t want to die. He wanted to keep scratching his name into the walls of this grotto: Don Whitman, Don Whitman, Don Whitman…
I watched him for a long time before I realized that I would have to get to the surface soon. People would begin to worry. They might start looking for me. And as much as I needed to know the logic behind Don Whitman’s grotto, I also needed food. I couldn’t live down here. I couldn’t eat my own eyes and expect them to grow back. Eventually, I would either have to return to the world above or die.
I put my hand on the grotto wall and began to mentally retrace my steps. A return would not be difficult. All I would need to do was follow—
That’s when I knew.
The geography of it hit me.
The hole I’d entered was on the outskirts of town. The tunnel sloped toward the town. That meant this grotto was below the town. The town hall, the bank, the police station, the school—all of it was lying unknowingly on top of a giant expanding cavity. One day, this cavity would be too large, the town would be too heavy, and everything would collapse into a deep and permanent handmade abyss. Don Whitman would bury the town just as the town had buried the no-people. Everything would be destroyed. Everyone would die. That was Don Whitman’s genius. That was his life’s work.
I picked up the rifle and faced Don Whitman for the final time.
He must have known that I was there. He’d heard me and had probably seen me before he pulled out his eyes, yet he just continued to scratch. Faced with death, he kept working.
As I stood there, I had no doubt that, left in peace, Don Whitman would finish his project. His will was too powerful. The result would be catastrophic. It was under these assumptions that I made the most moral and important decision of my life:
I walked away.

Hello. Since building this PC in June 2022, I've been trying to diagnose a strange issue with the integrated GPU either producing a black screen or experiencing display driver timeouts (the famous device manager error 4101). This collection of issues only occurs when the PC cold boots, or on rare occasions when waking from sleep. The PC has no issues when under load or playing games, and has never had a BSOD. I have not found a way to manually reproduce these issues, and they occur as often as twice per day, or as infrequently as once a month, making diagnosis difficult. Note that after December 2022, the PC began showing black screens on POST and failing to exit POST.
Computer Type: Desktop
GPU: Vega 7 integrated GPU in Ryzen 5 5600G
CPU: RYZEN 5 5600G
Motherboard: ASUS ROG Strix B550i Gaming
BIOS Version: 2423 x64
RAM: 16GB CORSAIR VENGEANCE 3600MHZ CL18; SKU: CMK16GX4M2D3600C18 (Note this SKU is not in motherboard QVL)
PSU: CORSAIR SF600 80+ GOLD FULLY MODULAR
Case: SSUPD MESHILICIOUS
Operating System & Version: WINDOWS 10 HOME 22H2; Build 19045.2965
GPU Drivers: AMD drivers 22.5.2, 22.8.2, 22.9.2, 22.10.22 (windows driver store version). Currently 22.20.42 (windows driver store 31.0.12042.4) as automatically installed by windows
Chipset Drivers: Unknown, no entry in Device Manager
Background Applications: None, issue occurs before login
Description of Original Problem: Original issue began a few days after building PC and installing windows. After running MemTest86 (no issues after 4 passes), the system was rebooted. System reboots normally, 1 beep from installed PC buzzer and windows boots to lock screen. On lockscreen, display immediately freezes, usually after the clock and background is shown. The PC will stay frozen until the display driver times out after 10 seconds, the monitor will lose signal as the driver is re-initialized and the display will return, only to freeze again a few seconds later. This continues until either windows disables the driver entirely, relying on the basic display driver, or the system fails to recover and remains frozen. Some variations of this issue result in the display crashing before the background even renders in the lockscreen, and sometimes video signal is restored as a black screen, only to freeze and recover again (monitor shows backlit black screen, then backlight is turned off as the input signal is lost and restored).
After around December 2022, issues began manifesting in different ways, and occurred outside of just the windows lock screen. Sometimes on power on, the system will beep once but display a black screen, never leaving POST. Short pressing the power button shuts off the system allowing for a restart. On other occasions display crashes now occur after system wakes from sleep, with the result being either a frozen system or successful fallback to basic display drivers. Most notably, the system once booted and froze displaying a corrupted BIOS logo, which can be seen here: https://imgur.com/a/uFYVZBF
**Troubleshooting:**Prior to December 2022, I've attempted to:

• Try several different AMD driver versions: from 22.5.2, to 22.8.2 and 22.9.2 (which was automatically set by windows).
• Due to the sporadic nature of this issue, diagnosis was difficult, combined with windows constantly auto updating driver versions, of which several registry changes were unable to fix
• Attempted to run PC at 3200MHz ram speed instead of 3600, since 3200 is the max guaranteed supported speed by AMD for this CPU. Issues continued after this change. However many posters have noted these monolithic CPUs tend to have good IMCs and some can OC to 4000+ MHz. Perhaps I am unlucky?
• Monitor upgrade from HDMI 1080P to DisplayPort 1440P. Issues persisted. Rules out bad monitor+cable combinations.

After December 2022:

• Attempted to try different RAM combinations, with only a dual slot motherboard I've tried switching both RAM sticks, and so far running RAM A in slot A, and RAM B in slot B. Have not tried running individual sticks in slot B only.
• Full windows 10 reinstall with no data carried over. Reinstall was performed using a USB flashed with the Windows 10 Media Creation Tool from another PC. This also fixes any potential issues caused by registry changes in an attempt to stop windows' stubborn auto update of GPU drivers.
• Back in June 2022, I tested the riser cable of this SFF Case using my only available discrete GPU, an AMD HD 6570. This also required installing legacy AMD Catalyst drivers, resulting in a crash when I reverted back to the integrated GPU. AMD cleanup tool resolved the driver conflicts and Adrenaline 22.5.2 was reinstalled. The Windows 10 reinstall from above should further prevent any remaining issues from this experiment from carrying over.

I have not attempted the following:

• Use DDU to clean up drivers. (Probably not related now since issues occur even in BIOS)
• Ran system with individual RAM sticks in slot B. (unsure if this would fix issue, since individual sticks in slot A did not fix)
• Potential chipset driver upgrades? (unsure of how this is done, cannot find current driver versions at all in device manager)
• BIOS upgrades? Unsure of risk, since system is 99.9% working and BIOS updates could brick motherboard)

Options going forward:

• Use PC as is, let system recover if any crashes occur, or hard reset system. Hope no corruption happens to OS if any hard resets are needed.
• Save up for dedicated GPU, hoping issue is GPU related
• Attempt some BIOS and chipset upgrades
• Perform and RMA with AMD (unsure since issue could still be iGPU, motherboard, or RAM related)

A full list of every issue and change can be found here
​

+	A	B	C	D	E	F
1	Date	Type (blue = hardware changes, green=software changes, red = unique or uncommon errors)	Symptoms	User actions (if applicable)	Result	Comments
2	June 22, 2022	Hardware change		First assembly of PC	No issues during assembly, windows installs smoothly
3	June 23, 2022	Hardware change		Added AMD HD-6570 GPU for testing PCIe extender cable	No issues with GPU, extender cable appears to be working	Required install of legacy AMD Catalyst GPU drivers
4	June 23, 2022	Hardware change	PC crashed after removing HD 6570 and reverting to iGPU	Boot in safe mode, use AMD cleanup tool to remove old drivers	PC boots normally after old drivers are removed
5	June 24, 2022	Diagnostic	Ran MemTest86 with default settings		MemTest PASS	Possible cause of memory instability as GPU issue began immediately after reboot?
6	June 24, 2022	System Fault	Display driver crash on login screen after boot	Hard reset	No issues on next boot
7	July 9, 2022	System Fault	Display driver crash on login screen after boot	Hard reset	No issues on next boot
8	August 4, 2022	System Fault	Display driver crash on login screen after boot	Hard reset	No issues on next boot
9	August 11, 2022	System Fault	Display driver crash on login screen after boot	Hard reset	No issues on next boot
10	Sept 5, 2022	Software Change		Driver configured to 22.9.2
11	Sept 6, 2022	Software Change	Windows auto update driver to unknown ver, published August 2021			Did not know about the difference between AMD driver ver. #s and windows driver store #s, which are different. Driver is likely a WHQL driver in the driver store which windows insists on updating to
12	Sept 20, 2022	Software Change		Attempt to stop windows driver updates via registry changes
13	Sept 22, 2022	System Fault	Display driver crash on login screen after boot	Hard reset	No issues on next boot
14	Sept 25, 2022	Software Change	Windows auto update driver to unknown ver, published August 2021			Clearly windows has ignored the registry change...
15	Sept 26, 2022	System Fault	Display driver crash on login screen after boot	Hard reset	No issues on next boot
16	Oct 11, 2022	Software Change		Set driver to 22.5.2 (WHQL) and further changes to the windows registry to stop auto updates		Registry change likely involved blacklisting 4 hardware IDs for Radeon iGPU from the driver update list
17	Oct 15, 2022	System Fault	Display driver crash on login screen after boot	Hard reset	No issues on next boot
18	Oct 18, 2022	Software Change		Set driver to 22.8.2
19	Oct 30, 2022	System Fault	Display driver crash on login screen after boot	Hard reset	No issues on next boot
20	Nov 4, 2022	System Fault	Display driver crash on login screen after boot, unstable recovery	Restart system through windows UI while driver crashes and recover every ~10s	Restart 1: Driver could not be loaded (devmgmt error 22), updating driver resulted in devmgmt error 31, another update resulted in successful install, but driver was unstable, crash and recovery every ~10s. Restart 2: No issues	First instance of system recovery without hard reset; first instance of other symptoms besides display freezing
21	Nov 6, 2022	Hardware change		New monitor, 1440p 165Hz displayPort		Old monitor: 1080p 75Hz HDMI, issues persist after this change ruling out monitor+cable as issue
22	Nov 13, 2022	System Fault	Display driver crash on login screen after boot	Hard reset	No issue on next boot
23	Nov 13, 2022	Software Change		Changed RAM speed from 3600MHz to 3200MHz	Slight performance drop in games due to slower RAM	Original ram ran at XMP, 3200MHz speed set manually, other settings left on AUTO
24	Nov 20, 2022	System Fault	Black screen when powered on	Short press power to turn off	No issue on next boot	System likely has not left POST due to power button behaviour, first instance of system fault in BIOS/POST stage
25	Nov 21, 2022	System Fault	No DP signal when woken from sleep, PC auto restarts. eventmgr lists "windows restarted due to bugcheck (0x0000009f)"		No issue on next boot	Bugcheck 0x0000009f is a general type of error, some sources point to driver irp issues with amdkmdag.sys
26	Nov 22, 2022	System Fault	No DP signal when woken from 2nd sleep, after 2 display driver recoveries system remains frozen on black screen	Hard reset	No issue on next boot
27	Dec 19, 2022	System Fault	Display driver crash on login screen after boot	Attempted to shutdown system "blind" using narrator while driver crashed and recovered 5 times, after 5th recovery driver is disabled by windows	User logged in to windows and performed a restart to reenable AMD drivers. No issue on next boot	Windows successfully stopped crashing driver and fallback to basic display driver
28	Dec 23, 2022	System Fault	Black screen when powered on	Short press power button to reboot, resulted in frozen bios screen with corrupted ROG brand logo	Short press power button again to reboot. No issue on next boot	First sign of hardware related failure if system cannot make it past BIOS screen without either a black screen, or displaying a corrupted boot logo. This is the only occurrance of this event
29	Dec 27, 2022-Jan 2, 2023	Vacation, computer unused
30	Jan 11, 2023	System Fault	No video signal on POST, system remains frozen in POST	Short press power button to reboot	No issue on next boot
31	Jan 23, 2023	System Fault	Display driver crash on login screen after boot	Hard reset	No issue on next boot	couldn't wait to see if system could self recover
32	Jan 25, 2023	System Fault	No DP signal when woken from sleep, PC auto restarts. eventmgr lists "windows restarted due to bugcheck (0x0000009f)"		No issue on next boot	Bugcheck 0x0000009f is a general type of error, some sources point to driver irp issues with amdkmdag.sys
33	Jan 27, 2023	System Fault	Display driver crash on login screen after boot	Attempted to shutdown system "blind" using narrator while driver crashed and recovered 5 times, after 5th recovery driver is disabled by windows	User logged in to windows and found that no GPU drivers were available (likely code 22). A restart was then performed. No issue on next boot
34	Jan 30, 2023	System Fault	Display driver crash after system wakes from sleep	Managed to sign in in-between crashes, display driver continues crashing and freezes on desktop	Hard reset performed. No issue on next boot	Sometimes the system keeps going in between crashes
35	Feb 6, 2023	Software Change	Screen flickers briefly during automatic update, interrupts YouTube video playback	Windows auto update AMD drivers to 22.10.2 (October), windows driver store version 31.0.12042.4	System functions as normal after update	User annoyed that windows insists on updating while system is actively in use. Could have negative effects in critical situations like video games
36	Feb 10, 2023	System Fault	Black screen when powered on	Short press power button to reboot	No issue on next boot
37	Feb 11, 2023	System Fault	Black screen when woken from sleep, system restarts automatically		User session was saved after restart, all apps remained open. No issues afterwards	Unusual behaviour as system probably crashed, but fast start and keep apps open settigns were disabled
38	Feb 16, 2023	System Fault	Display driver crash on login screen after boot	Driver crashed and recovered 5 times, after 5th recovery driver is disabled by windows. A restart was then performed	After restart, driver failed to load (code 31). Another restart was performed. No issue on next boot
39	Feb 23, 2023	System Fault	Black screen when woken from sleep, system frozen on black screen	Hard reset	No issue on next boot
40	Mar 21, 2023	System Fault	Display driver crash after system wakes from sleep	User manages to sign in after display driver crashes and recovers continuously every 10 seconds, after over 20 recoveries user is able to restart PC from windows UI.	No issue on next boot	Sometimes the driver is just stable enough to keep going and continuously recover
41	Mar 27, 2023	System Fault	Black screen when powered on	Short press power button to reboot	No issue on next boot
42	Mar 27, 2023	System Fault	Unknown crash when waking from sleep	Short press power button reboots system	System reboots as if nothing had happened and it was gracefully shutdown prior
43	Mar 27, 2023	System Fault	Unknown crash when waking from sleep	Short press power button reboots system	System reboots as if nothing had happened and it was gracefully shutdown prior	This symptom happens twice within one day, has not happened since
44	April 7, 2023	System Fault	Display driver crash on login screen after boot	Hard reset	No issue on next boot	Needed to use computer, couldn't wait and see if system will self recover
45	April 8, 2023	System Fault	Black screen when powered on	Short press power button to reboot	No issue on next boot
46	April 9, 2023	System Fault	Frozen screen with ROG logo on boot	Short press power button reboots system	No issue on next boot	Frozen on POST again, but with an intact logo this time!
47	April 14, 2023	Software Change		COMPLETE WINDOWS REINSTALL		Reinstalled windows 10 from USB using the media creation tool on a different PC
48	April 14, 2023	Software Change		RAM set to 3600MHz		3600MHz set manually, no XMP, other settings left on AUTO
49	April 14, 2023	Software Change		Windows automatically reinstalls AMD drivers from driver store		Version 31.0.12042.4 (Adrenaline 22.20.42) DCH/Win1064 , dated Oct 19, 2022 Data obtained from GPU-Z
50	April 14, 2023	User Note				From this point forward, majority of crashes after OS has loaded result in display driver crashes, but windows is able to recover each time and load basic display drivers. No AMD Adrenaline has been installed. Unsure if the minimal driver install from windows has something to contribute to this
51	April 14, 2023	Hardware change		Added labels to RAM sticks to diagnose potential RAM issues RAM A = red, RAM B = blue	RAM A in DIMM_SLOT A, RAM B in DIMM_SLOT B
52	April 24, 2023	System Fault	Display crash on login screen after boot, system tries to recover 3 times then remains frozen	Hard reset	No issue on next boot
53	April 29, 2023	System Fault	Display crash on login screen after boot, after 1 recovery attempt system auto reboots		No issue on next boot	First instance of windows recovering from unstable driver since reinstall
54	May 1, 2023	System Fault	Display crash on login screen after boot, after 1 recovery attempt windows fallback to basic display driver	User logs in to windows, device manager shows code 31, attempting to reinstall AMD drivers results in a crash, black screen, and then code 43 after recovering , a restart was then performed	No issue on next boot
55	May 2, 2023	System Fault	Display crash on login screen after boot, after 3 recovery attemps windows fallback to basic display driver	User logs in to windows, device manager shows code 31, a restart was then performed	No issue on next boot
56	May 14, 2023	System Fault	Display crash on login screen after boot, after 10 recovery attemps windows fallback to basic display driver	User logs in to windows, device manager shows code 22 for disabled device. Reenabling Radeon graphics shows code 31. A restart was then performed.	No issue on next boot	POST noted taking 2 seconds longer than the usual 5 second fan spin
57	May 15, 2023	Hardware change		Changed RAM stick positioning: RAM A in DIMM_SLOT B, RAM B in DIMM_SLOT A
58	May 19, 2023-May 22, 2023	Vacation, computer unused
59	May 24, 2023	System Fault	Display crash on login screen after boot, after 3 recovery attempts system restarts		No issue on next boot	Noted user was presented with windows 11 upgrade prompt on login after restart
60	May 24, 2023	Hardware change		Changed RAM stick positioning: No RAM in DIMM_SLOT B, RAM B in DIMM_SLOT A
61	May 26, 2023	System Fault	Display crash on login screen after boot, after 12 recovery attemps windows fallback to basic display driver	User logs in to windows, device manager shows code 31, a restart was then performed	No issue on next boot
62	May 26, 2023	Hardware change		Changed RAM stick positioning: No RAM in DIMM_SLOT B, RAM A in DIMM_SLOT A
63	May 31, 2023	System Fault	Display driver crash, after waiting for 3 recovery attempts a restart was performed		No issue on next boot	User did not see POST process as monitor was connected to another PC and manually switched to DP input
64	June 1, 2023	Hardware change		Changed RAM stick positioning: RAM B in DIMM_SLOT B, RAM A in DIMM_SLOT A
65	June 1, 2023	Software Change		RAM set to 3200MHz		3200MHz set manually, no XMP, other settings left on AUTO

^{Table formatting brought to you by ExcelToReddit}
Edit: Fixed some table formatting, some cells got offset.

Everything in my inventory is up for trade. The most valuable items are listed here, the rest you can find in My Inventory

Feel free to Add Me or even better send a Trade Offer. Open for any suggestions: upgrades, downgrades / knives, gloves, skins / stickers, patterns, floats.

All Buyouts are listed in cash value.

KNIVES

★ Butterfly Knife Freehand FN #1, B/O: $2500

★ Butterfly Knife Ultraviolet FT, B/O: $822

★ Butterfly Knife Scorched FT, B/O: $616

⎯

★ Bayonet Tiger Tooth MW #1, B/O: $1300

★ Bayonet Autotronic FN, B/O: $1050

★ Bayonet Tiger Tooth MW, B/O: $629

★ Bayonet Bright Water FT, B/O: $326

★ Bayonet Safari Mesh BS, B/O: $233

⎯

★ Karambit Lore FT, B/O: $1110

★ Karambit Damascus Steel FT, B/O: $840

★ Karambit Freehand MW, B/O: $784

★ Karambit Bright Water MW, B/O: $759

⎯

★ M9 Bayonet Fade FN, B/O: $1801

★ M9 Bayonet Fade FN, B/O: $1801

★ M9 Bayonet Damascus Steel FN, B/O: $751

⎯

★ Nomad Knife Fade FN, B/O: $1156

★ Nomad Knife Slaughter MW, B/O: $544

★ Nomad Knife Blue Steel WW, B/O: $318

⎯

★ Flip Knife Marble Fade FN, B/O: $646

★ Flip Knife Doppler (Phase 4) FN, B/O: $574

★ Flip Knife Gamma Doppler (Phase 1) MW, B/O: $552

★ Flip Knife Case Hardened FT, B/O: $257

★ Flip Knife Freehand FT, B/O: $255

★ StatTrak™ Flip Knife Bright Water FN, B/O: $287

⎯

★ Huntsman Knife Lore FN, B/O: $461

★ Huntsman Knife Gamma Doppler (Phase 4) FN, B/O: $436

★ Huntsman Knife Doppler (Phase 3) FN, B/O: $353

★ Huntsman Knife Autotronic FT, B/O: $212

★ Huntsman Knife Bright Water FT, B/O: $129

★ Huntsman Knife Forest DDPAT MW, B/O: $129

★ Huntsman Knife Forest DDPAT BS, B/O: $123

★ StatTrak™ Huntsman Knife Rust Coat BS, B/O: $127

⎯

★ Bowie Knife Gamma Doppler (Phase 2) FN, B/O: $375

★ Bowie Knife Gamma Doppler (Phase 1) FN, B/O: $363

★ Bowie Knife Tiger Tooth FN, B/O: $269

★ Bowie Knife Crimson Web WW, B/O: $192

★ Bowie Knife Bright Water FN, B/O: $159

★ Bowie Knife Ultraviolet FT, B/O: $126

⎯

★ Stiletto Knife Slaughter FN, B/O: $616

★ Stiletto Knife Crimson Web FT, B/O: $412

★ StatTrak™ Stiletto Knife Night Stripe FT, B/O: $227

⎯

★ Falchion Knife Lore FT, B/O: $214

★ Falchion Knife Autotronic FT, B/O: $192

★ Falchion Knife Scorched WW, B/O: $105

⎯

★ Survival Knife Crimson Web BS, B/O: $216

★ Survival Knife Case Hardened FT, B/O: $198

★ Survival Knife Scorched FT, B/O: $111

⎯

★ Shadow Daggers Fade FN, B/O: $368

★ Shadow Daggers Doppler (Phase 3) FN, B/O: $228

★ Shadow Daggers, B/O: $201

★ Shadow Daggers Damascus Steel FT, B/O: $108

★ Shadow Daggers Ultraviolet FT, B/O: $105

★ Shadow Daggers Black Laminate FT, B/O: $99

★ Shadow Daggers Forest DDPAT FT, B/O: $85

⎯

★ Gut Knife Doppler (Sapphire) MW #1, B/O: $1700

★ Gut Knife Gamma Doppler (Phase 1) FN, B/O: $223

★ Gut Knife Marble Fade FN, B/O: $203

★ Gut Knife Doppler (Phase 2) FN, B/O: $191

★ Gut Knife Case Hardened BS, B/O: $127

⎯

★ Navaja Knife Doppler (Phase 4) FN, B/O: $199

★ Navaja Knife Doppler (Phase 4) FN, B/O: $199

★ Navaja Knife, B/O: $138

★ Navaja Knife Damascus Steel FN, B/O: $111

⎯

★ Classic Knife Urban Masked FT, B/O: $146

★ StatTrak™ Classic Knife Stained BS, B/O: $168

⎯

★ Ursus Knife Doppler (Phase 3) FN, B/O: $476

★ Ursus Knife, B/O: $375

⎯

★ Skeleton Knife, B/O: $1137

★ Talon Knife, B/O: $608

★ Paracord Knife, B/O: $305

★ Survival Knife Forest DDPAT FT, B/O: $97

GLOVES

★ Moto Gloves Transport MW, B/O: $204

★ Moto Gloves Polygon BS, B/O: $142

★ Moto Gloves Blood Pressure BS, B/O: $84

★ Moto Gloves Blood Pressure BS, B/O: $84

★ Moto Gloves 3rd Commando Company BS, B/O: $63

★ Moto Gloves 3rd Commando Company BS, B/O: $63

⎯

★ Specialist Gloves Crimson Kimono WW, B/O: $1215

★ Specialist Gloves Tiger Strike FT, B/O: $672

★ Specialist Gloves Lt. Commander FT, B/O: $305

★ Specialist Gloves Lt. Commander BS, B/O: $140

★ Specialist Gloves Crimson Web BS, B/O: $137

★ Specialist Gloves Buckshot FT, B/O: $75

⎯

★ Driver Gloves Crimson Weave FT, B/O: $359

★ Driver Gloves Imperial Plaid BS, B/O: $229

★ Driver Gloves Overtake BS, B/O: $77

★ Driver Gloves Racing Green FT, B/O: $48

⎯

★ Sport Gloves Omega FT, B/O: $739

★ Sport Gloves Amphibious BS #2, B/O: $733

★ Sport Gloves Arid BS, B/O: $292

⎯

★ Hand Wraps Giraffe MW, B/O: $212

★ Hand Wraps Leather FT, B/O: $160

★ Hand Wraps Desert Shamagh MW, B/O: $101

⎯

★ Broken Fang Gloves Yellow-banded MW, B/O: $185

★ Broken Fang Gloves Needle Point FT, B/O: $67

★ Broken Fang Gloves Needle Point WW, B/O: $59

⎯

★ Hydra Gloves Case Hardened BS, B/O: $65

★ Hydra Gloves Emerald FT, B/O: $65

★ Hydra Gloves Emerald BS, B/O: $62

WEAPONS

AK-47 Case Hardened BS, B/O: $130

AK-47 Bloodsport MW, B/O: $79

AK-47 Fuel Injector BS, B/O: $76

AK-47 Fuel Injector BS, B/O: $76

AK-47 Bloodsport FT, B/O: $70

AK-47 Neon Rider MW, B/O: $60

StatTrak™ AK-47 Aquamarine Revenge FT, B/O: $72

⎯

AWP Fade FN, B/O: $1039

AWP Asiimov FT, B/O: $139

AWP Asiimov FT, B/O: $139

AWP Wildfire MW, B/O: $95

AWP BOOM MW, B/O: $93

AWP BOOM MW, B/O: $93

AWP Duality FN, B/O: $81

AWP Asiimov BS, B/O: $79

AWP Asiimov BS, B/O: $79

AWP Chromatic Aberration FN, B/O: $60

StatTrak™ AWP Hyper Beast FT, B/O: $68

StatTrak™ AWP Hyper Beast FT, B/O: $68

StatTrak™ AWP Electric Hive FT, B/O: $55

⎯

Desert Eagle Blaze FN, B/O: $623

Desert Eagle Emerald Jörmungandr FN, B/O: $241

Desert Eagle Cobalt Disruption FN, B/O: $81

Desert Eagle Cobalt Disruption FN, B/O: $81

Desert Eagle Cobalt Disruption FN, B/O: $81

Desert Eagle Printstream FT, B/O: $54

⎯

M4A1-S Blue Phosphor FN, B/O: $434

StatTrak™ M4A1-S Bright Water MW, B/O: $55

⎯

M4A4 Poseidon FN, B/O: $1465

M4A4 Asiimov BS, B/O: $55

M4A4 Hellfire MW, B/O: $50

⎯

USP-S Kill Confirmed MW, B/O: $72

USP-S Printstream FT, B/O: $69

StatTrak™ USP-S Kill Confirmed FT, B/O: $139

⎯

AUG Flame Jörmungandr FN, B/O: $234

P90 Run and Hide FT, B/O: $147

Five-SeveN Candy Apple FN, B/O: $61

Trade Offer Link - Steam Profile Link - My Inventory

Knives - Bowie Knife, Butterfly Knife, Falchion Knife, Flip Knife, Gut Knife, Huntsman Knife, M9 Bayonet, Bayonet, Karambit, Shadow Daggers, Stiletto Knife, Ursus Knife, Navaja Knife, Talon Knife, Classic Knife, Paracord Knife, Survival Knife, Nomad Knife, Skeleton Knife, Patterns - Gamma Doppler, Doppler (Phase 1, Phase 2, Phase 3, Phase 4, Black Pearl, Sapphire, Ruby, Emerald), Crimson Web, Lore, Fade, Ultraviolet, Night, Marble Fade (Fire & Ice, Fake FI), Case Hardened (Blue Gem), Autotronic, Slaughter, Black Laminate, Tiger Tooth, Boreal Forest, Scorched, Blue Steel, Vanilla, Damascus Steel, Forest DDPAT, Urban Masked, Freehand, Stained, Bright Water, Safari Mesh, Rust Coat, Gloves - Bloodhound Gloves (Charred, Snakebite, Guerrilla, Bronzed), Driver Gloves (Snow Leopard, King Snake, Crimson Weave, Imperial Plaid, Black Tie, Lunar Weave, Diamondback, Rezan the Red, Overtake, Queen Jaguar, Convoy, Racing Green), Hand Wraps (Cobalt Skulls, CAUTION!, Overprint, Slaughter, Leather, Giraffe, Badlands, Spruce DDPAT, Arboreal, Constrictor, Desert Shamagh, Duct Tape), Moto Gloves (Spearmint, POW!, Cool Mint, Smoke Out, Finish Line, Polygon, Blood Pressure, Turtle, Boom!, Eclipse, 3rd Commando Company, Transport), Specialist Gloves (Crimson Kimono, Tiger Strike, Emerald Web, Field Agent, Marble Fade, Fade, Foundation, Lt. Commander, Crimson Web, Mogul, Forest DDPAT, Buckshot), Sport Gloves (Pandora's Box, Superconductor, Hedge Maze, Vice, Amphibious, Slingshot, Omega, Arid, Big Game, Nocts, Scarlet Shamagh, Bronze Morph), Hydra Gloves (Case Hardened, Emerald, Rattler, Mangrove), Broken Fang Gloves (Jade, Yellow-banded, Unhinged, Needle Point), Pistols - P2000 (Wicked Sick, Ocean Foam, Fire Element, Amber Fade, Corticera, Chainmail, Imperial Dragon, Obsidian, Scorpion, Handgun, Acid Etched), USP-S (Printstream, Kill Confirmed, Whiteout, Road Rash, Owergrowth, The Traitor, Neo-Noir, Dark Water, Orion, Blueprint, Stainless, Caiman, Serum, Monster Mashup, Royal Blue, Ancient Visions, Cortex, Orange Anolis, Ticket To Hell, Black Lotus, Cyrex, Check Engine, Guardian, Purple DDPAT, Torque, Blood Tiger, Flashback, Business Class, Pathfinder, Para Green), Lead Conduit, Glock-18 (Umbral Rabbit, Fade, Candy Apple, Bullet Queen, Synth Leaf, Neo-Noir, Nuclear Garden, Dragon Tatto, Reactor, Pink DDPAT, Twilight Galaxy, Sand Dune, Groundwater, Blue Fissure, Snack Attack, Water Elemental, Brass, Wasteland Rebel, Vogue, Franklin, Royal Legion, Gamma Doppler, Weasel, Steel Disruption, Ironwork, Grinder, High Beam, Moonrise, Oxide Blaze, Bunsen Burner, Clear Polymer, Bunsen Burner, Night), P250 (Re.built, Nuclear Threat, Modern Hunter, Splash, Whiteout, Vino Primo, Mehndi, Asiimov, Visions, Undertow, Cartel, See Ya Later, Gunsmoke, Splash, Digital Architect, Muertos, Red Rock, Bengal Tiger, Crimson Kimono, Wingshot, Metallic DDPAT, Hive, Dark Filigree, Mint Kimono), Five-Seven (Neon Kimono, Berries And Cherries, Fall Hazard, Crimson Blossom, Hyper Beast, Nitro, Fairy Tale, Case Hardened, Copper Galaxy, Angry Mob, Monkey Business, Fowl Play, Anodized Gunmetal, Hot Shot, Retrobution, Boost Protocol), CZ75-Auto (Chalice, Crimson Web, Emerald Quartz, The Fuschia is Now, Nitro, Xiangliu, Yellow Jacket, Victoria, Poison Dart, Syndicate, Eco, Hexane, Pole, Tigris), Tec-9 (Rebel, Terrace, Nuclear Threat, Hades, Rust Leaf, Decimator, Blast From, Orange Murano, Toxic, Fuel Injector, Remote Control, Bamboo Forest, Isaac, Avalanche, Brother, Re-Entry, Blue Titanium, Bamboozle), R8 Revolver (Banana Cannon, Fade, Blaze, Crimson Web, Liama Cannon, Crazy 8, Reboot, Canal Spray, Night, Amber Fade), Desert Eagle (Blaze, Hand Cannon, Fennec Fox, Sunset Storm, Emerald Jörmungandr, Pilot, Hypnotic, Golden Koi, Printstream, Cobalt Disruption, Code Red, Ocean Drive, Midnight Storm, Kumicho Dragon, Crimson Web, Heirloom, Night Heist, Mecha Industries, Night, Conspiracy, Trigger Discipline, Naga, Directive, Light Rail), Dual Berettas (Flora Carnivora, Duelist, Cobra Strike, Black Limba, Emerald, Hemoglobin, Twin Turbo, Marina, Melondrama, Pyre, Retribution, Briar, Dezastre, Royal Consorts, Urban Shock, Dualing Dragons, Panther, Balance), Rifles - Galil (Aqua Terrace, Winter Forest, Chatterbox, Sugar Rush, Pheonix Blacklight, CAUTION!, Orange DDPAT, Cerberus, Dusk Ruins, Eco, Chromatic Aberration, Stone Cold, Tuxedo, Sandstorm, Shattered, Urban Rubble, Rocket Pop, Kami, Crimson Tsunami, Connexion), SCAR-20 (Fragments, Brass, Cyrex, Palm, Splash Jam, Cardiac, Emerald, Crimson Web, Magna Carta, Stone Mosaico, Bloodsport, Enforcer), AWP (Duality, Gungnir, Dragon Lore, Prince, Medusa, Desert Hydra, Fade, Lightning Strike, Oni Taiji, Silk Tiger, Graphite, Chromatic Aberration, Asiimov, Snake Camo, Boom, Containment Breach, Wildfire, Redline, Electric Hive, Hyper Beast, Neo-Noir, Man-o'-war, Pink DDPAT, Corticera, Sun in Leo, Elite Build, Fever Dream, Atheris, Mortis, PAW, Exoskeleton, Worm God, POP AWP, Phobos, Acheron, Pit Viper, Capillary, Safari Mesh), AK-47 (Head Shot, Wild Lotus, Gold Arabesque, X-Ray, Fire Serpent, Hydroponic, Panthera Onca, Case Hardened, Vulcan, Jet Set, Fuel Injector, Bloodsport, Nightwish, First Class, Neon Rider, Asiimov, Red Laminate, Aquamarine Revenge, The Empress, Wasteland Rebel, Jaguar, Black Laminate, Leet Museo, Neon Revolution, Redline, Frontside Misty, Predator, Legion of Anubis, Point Disarray, Orbit Mk01, Blue Laminate, Green Laminate, Emerald Pinstripe, Cartel, Phantom Disruptor, Jungle Spray, Safety Net, Rat Rod, Baroque Purple, Slate, Elite Build, Uncharted, Safari Mesh), FAMAS (Sundown, Prime Conspiracy, Afterimage, Commemoration, Dark Water, Spitfire, Pulse, Eye of Athena, Meltdown, Rapid Eye Move, Roll Cage, Styx, Mecha Industrie, Djinn, ZX Spectron, Valence, Neural Net, Night Borre, Hexne), M4A4 (Temukau, Howl, Poseidon, Asiimov, Daybreak, Hellfire, Zirka, Red DDPAT, Radiation Hazard, Modern Hunter, The Emperor, The Coalition, Bullet Rain, Cyber Security, X-Ray, Dark Blossom, Buzz Kill, In Living Color, Neo-Noir, Desolate Space, 龍王 (Dragon King), Royal Paladin, The Battlestar, Global Offensive, Tooth Fairy, Desert-Strike, Griffin, Evil Daimyo, Spider Lily, Converter), M4A1-S (Emphorosaur-S, Welcome to the Jungle, Imminent Danger, Knight, Hot Rod, Icarus Fell, Blue Phosphor, Printstream, Master Piece, Dark Water, Golden Coil, Bright Water, Player Two, Atomic Alloy, Guardian, Chantico's Fire, Hyper Beast, Mecha Industries, Cyrex, Control Panel, Moss Quartz, Nightmare, Decimator, Leaded Glass, Basilisk, Blood Tiger, Briefing, Night Terror, Nitro, VariCamo, Flashback), SG 553 (Cyberforce, Hazard Pay, Bulldozer, Integrale, Dragon Tech, Ultraviolet, Colony IV, Hypnotic, Cyrex, Candy Apple, Barricade, Pulse), SSG 08 (Death Strike, Sea Calico, Blood in the Water, Orange Filigree, Dragonfire, Big Iron, Bloodshot, Detour, Turbo Peek, Red Stone), AUG (Akihabara Accept, Flame Jörmungandr, Hot Rod, Midnight Lily, Sand Storm, Carved Jade, Wings, Anodized Navy, Death by Puppy, Torque, Bengal Tiger, Chameleon, Fleet Flock, Random Access, Momentum, Syd Mead, Stymphalian, Arctic Wolf, Aristocrat, Navy Murano), G3SG1 (Chronos, Violet Murano, Flux, Demeter, Orange Kimono, The Executioner, Green Apple, Arctic Polar Camo, Contractor), SMGs - P90 (Neoqueen, Astral Jörmungandr, Run and Hide, Emerald Dragon, Cold Blooded, Death by Kitty, Baroque Red, Vent Rush, Blind Spot, Asiimov, Trigon, Sunset Lily, Death Grip, Leather, Nostalgia, Fallout Warning, Tiger Pit, Schermatic, Virus, Shapewood, Glacier Mesh, Shallow Grave, Chopper, Desert Warfare), MAC-10 (Sakkaku, Hot Snakes, Copper Borre, Red Filigree, Gold Brick, Graven, Case Hardened, Stalker, Amber Fade, Neon Rider, Tatter, Curse, Propaganda, Nuclear Garden, Disco Tech, Toybox, Heat, Indigo), UMP-45 (Wild Child, Fade, Blaze, Day Lily, Minotaur's Labyrinth, Crime Scene, Caramel, Bone Pile, Momentum, Primal Saber), MP7 (Teal Blossom, Fade, Nemesis, Whiteout, Asterion, Bloosport, Abyssal Apparition, Full Stop, Special Delivery, Neon Ply, Asterion, Ocean Foam, Powercore, Scorched, Impire), PP-Bizon (Modern Hunter, Rust Coat, Forest Leaves, Antique, High Roller, Blue Streak, Seabird, Judgement of Anubis, Bamboo Print, Embargo, Chemical Green, Coblat Halftone, Fuel Rod, Photic Zone, Irradiated Alert, Carbon Fiber), MP9 (Featherweight, Wild Lily, Pandora's Box, Stained Glass, Bulldozer, Dark Age, Hot Rod, Hypnotic, Hydra, Rose Iron, Music Box, Setting Sun, Food Chain, Airlock, Mount Fuji, Starlight Protector, Ruby Poison Dart, Deadly Poison), MP5-SD (Liquidation, Oxide Oasis, Phosphor, Nitro, Agent, Autumn Twilly), Shotguns, Machineguns - Sawed-Off (Kiss♥Love, First Class, Orange DDPAT, Rust Coat, The Kraken, Devourer, Mosaico, Wasteland Princess, Bamboo Shadow, Copper, Serenity, Limelight, Apocalypto), XM1014 (Frost Borre, Ancient Lore, Red Leather, Elegant Vines, Banana Leaf, Jungle, Urban Perforated, Grassland, Blaze Orange, Heaven Guard, VariCamo Blue, Entombed, XOXO, Seasons, Tranquility, Bone Machine, Incinegator, Teclu Burner, Black Tie, Zombie Offensive, Watchdog), Nova (Baroque Orange, Hyper Beast, Green Apple, Antique, Modern Hunter, Walnut, Forest Leaves, Graphite, Blaze Orange, Rising Skull, Tempest, Bloomstick, Interlock, Quick Sand, Moon in Libra, Clean Polymer, Red Quartz, Toy Soldier), MAG-7 (Insomnia, Cinqueda, Counter Terrace, Prism Terrace, Memento, Chainmail, Hazard, Justice, Bulldozer, Silver, Core Breach, Firestarter, Praetorian, Heat, Hard Water, Monster Call, BI83 Spectrum, SWAG-7), M249 (Humidor, Shipping Forecast, Blizzard Marbleized, Downtown, Jungle DDPAT, Nebula Crusader, Impact Drill, Emerald Poison Dart), Negev (Mjölnir, Anodized Navy, Palm, Power Loader, Bratatat, CaliCamo, Phoenix Stencil, Infrastructure, Boroque Sand), Wear - Factory New (FN), Minimal Wear (MW), Field-Tested (FT), Well-Worn (WW), Battle-Scarred (BS), Stickers Holo/Foil/Gold - Katowice 2014, Krakow 2017, Howling Dawn, Katowice 2015, Crown, London 2018, Cologne 2014, Boston 2018, Atlanta 2017, Cluj-Napoca 2015, DreamHack 2014, King on the Field, Harp of War, Winged Difuser, Cologne 2016, Cologne 2015, MLG Columbus 2016, Katowice 2019, Berlin 2019, RMR 2020, Stockholm 2021, Antwerp 2022, Swag Foil, Flammable foil, Others - Souvenirs, Agents, Pins, Passes, Gifts, Music Kits, Cases, Keys, Capsules, Packages, Patches

Some items on the list may no longer be available or are still locked, visit My Inventory for more details.

Send a Trade Offer for fastest response. I consider all offers.

Add me for discuss if there is a serious offer that needs to be discussed.

During the fall time Mel would go to his family's vacation house out by the lake. It was a peaceful community full of retired inhabitants. He arrived just as the sun began to rise over the tree line having made the late-night drive to avoid traffic. Turning the car into the driveway he parked the car, turning the engine.
Mel opened the car door, taking a moment to step out and stretch. Going to the back of the car he opened the boot, beginning the process of gathering his bags then taking them inside. A note was on the counter left by his parents. Walking over, he glanced at the note briefly.
It stated that the pantry and fridge had been restocked. If the power were to go out to use the generator in the basement. What confused Mel was a scribble at the bottom left by his sibling leaving a warning.
Whatever IT says and no matter what IT does DO NOT let it in.
Was this some sort of joke since it was close to Halloween?
It was normal for them to play jokes on each other around this time of year. For now, he shrugged and began to unpack. By the time he was finished Mel was ready for lunch, so he made himself a meal.
While sitting there though...out of the corner of his eyes he could have sworn that he saw something move outside.
Was it an animal?
The neighbors do have pets, and it could have also been some of the local wildlife as well. Since deer have been seen in the area according to his dad. Who normally takes pictures of them for the local travel magazine in town.
Though it certainly did not seem animal shaped.
Finishing his lunch and cleaning up. Mel took his dishes to the kitchen, rinsing them off before putting them into the dishwasher to be washed later.
Placing a hand over his mouth he yawned looking over at the grandfather clock in the kitchen. Should he go for a walk or lay down for a nap? With whatever was looming outside Mel figured it would be best to stay inside.
On his way through the house, he checked the windows, pulling the curtains closed, checking the doors, and closing the sliding door shades.
Stepping back from the sliding glass door Mel could have sworn that there was a small tapping against the glass. He decided it was just the shades moving from being closed and made his way to the bedroom.
Before long he was fast asleep. After time had gone by, and the sun had gone down a considerable amount, Mel opened his eyes.
Getting up from his bed he reached over clicking on the lamp that was on the bedside table. He took a moment to rub the sleep from his eyes before he stood up. Entering the living room, the automatic plug-in lights lit his way, but he stopped halfway when they noticed a silhouette standing outside the sliding glass door.
Hands and a face pressed to the glass staring inside.
Mel was thankful he had closed the blinds. Taking a deep breath, he took a step back slowly only to see the head of the figure jerk in his direction.
"I can hear you in there. Won't you let me in?"
He kept quiet, not answering.
"I know you're in there! Why won't you speak to me?!"
Mel heard scratching on glass as if it were trying to make its way inside.
Should he call the police? What exactly would they even do?
IT banged on the sliding glass door as the whole thing began to rattle, and shake.
"LET me in...”
“Let ME...in”
“LET ME IN!”
Retreating to the master bedroom he crawled under the bed, Mel pulled out his cellphone tapping 911 onto the screen.
Waiting for someone to pick up the sound of glass shattering made him jump, losing his grip on his phone dropping it. Mel could only watch as it bounced and slid out from under the bed. Going to reach for it he quickly retracted his hand upon hearing footsteps as if someone were dragging their feet.
"Hello 911, what is your emergency?" A man's voice spoke from Mel's discarded phone that was a bit out of reach.
The man repeated himself, and sighed clearly annoyed mumbling about prank callers and how this happens every year.
His heart felt as if it jumped into his throat making it hard to swallow as those footsteps were now in the master bedroom with him.
Staying still Mel heard the creak of the bed as if someone or something was crawling across it. Holding his breath, wishing it would just go away. Slowly the side of the comforter began to rise.
It lowered its long black hair first then its face came into view. Its features contorted with a matching twisted, and upturned smile.
“Why wouldn’t you let me in?” it hissed angrily
Mel screamed, fainting from shock. He did not know how long he had been out and awoke when his sister Wynn called out for him. Opening his eyes from his place under the bed he could see that it was now daylight. Had IT left him alone?
Crawling out from under the bed he went to the living room where his sister was cleaning up the shards that were scattered on the carpet from the broken sliding glass door. Wynn looked at him over her shoulder as he approached.
“There you are Mel! I tried calling your cellphone, but you did not pick up”
“Sorry sis” Mel apologized “Say um...Wynn, about that warning you left with the note on the counter” he inquired.
Wynn was silent for a moment before frowning.
“Oh that? When I was here a few weeks ago I thought...I saw” she shook her head before asking, “What happened to the door?”
He wanted to tell her what she had warned him about was real. Knowing Wynn, she would just brush it off saying Mel was just trying to prank her since they did every Halloween, but not this year. Whatever was outside, desperately wanting in and had gotten in, left Mel alive.
Next time he may not be so lucky.

Robert's Rebellion Theme Song: The Czar Mastodon

Don't stay; run away He has ordered assassination Don't stay; run away The henchmen are gathered and waiting Don't stay; run away Your role as usurper is found out

This is part of a series exploring the hidden motives and actions of the main players during Robert's Rebellion, named LBJ in reference to the influence of Lyndon B. Johnson and the Vietnam War on GRRM's views and writings on war. LBJ also indicates considerations over whether Lyanna + Bobby B = Jon Snow. Previous installments include:

• Rhaegar Had To Be A Warrior
• Why Did Rhaegar Crown Lyanna?
  • Ice, Ice Baby?
  • Political Suicide?
  • Was She 'A Very Kinky Girl'?
• The Forging of Lightbringer: Blue Flowers & Narrow Visors
• Rhaegar Mistakenly Crowned Lyanna
• I am not fond of fish, but when fish is served, I eat it.
• All is fair in love and war...
• Kingsguard Loyalty
• Southron Ambitions & Lies
• The Return of the Prince: Éowyn at the Trident
• Mirror on the Wall: King Robert vs. Queen Cersei

Previous parts argued that Robert Baratheon was complicit in a plot to overthrow the Targaryen dynasty. This scheme used Rhaegar's mistaken crowning of Lyanna at Harrenhal to form a believable, malicious lie that the crown prince abducted her. Certain members of the infamous STAB alliance, with assistance from the Martells and Tywin Lannister, all secretly conspired together to place a pliable pawn as king, wrestling control from a dynasty that no longer had dragons to enforce their rule. Lurid evidence was given which shows Robert had Rhaegar tortured, as Cersei tortured the Blue Bard, and we also saw more subtle hints that Lyanna herself attempted to avenge her family at the Trident, with the aid of innate skinchanging abilities.
This part aims to provide additional evidence that Robert lived up to his moniker, the Demon of the Trident, casting him as close to black as grey can get. King Robert is an avatar for all the worst flaws of Westerosi culture, a man enabled to wield massive power who yet skirted any sense of responsibility and chose to commit a mountain of moral transgressions in service to his personal desires.

Robert's face was dark with anger. "How many times must I tell you to hold your tongue, woman?"
Cersei's face was a study in contempt. "What a jape the gods have made of us two," she said. "By all rights, you ought to be in skirts and me in mail."
Purple with rage, the king lashed out, a vicious backhand blow to the side of the head. She stumbled against the table and fell hard, yet Cersei Lannister did not cry out. Her slender fingers brushed her cheek, where the pale smooth skin was already reddening. On the morrow the bruise would cover half her face. "I shall wear this as a badge of honor," she announced.

- A Game of Thrones Eddard X

The Horned Demon of the Trident

Next had come King Robert himself, with Lady Stark on his arm. The king was a great disappointment to Jon. His father had talked of him often: the peerless Robert Baratheon, demon of the Trident, the fiercest warrior of the realm, a giant among princes. Jon saw only a fat man, red-faced under his beard, sweating through his silks. He walked like a man half in his cups.

- A Game of Thrones Jon I
tenor.com/view/gaston-antlers-gif-23720815
Robert Baratheon bears a striking resemblance to Gaston from Beauty & the Beast, who imprisons his romantic interest and lies to incite violence against a rival. Gaston is driven by jealousy of the Beast and humiliation over Belle's rejection. Disney’s adaptation of Beauty & the Beast was released in 1991, just five years before A Game of Thrones was published.
Video: Gaston Beauty & the Beast
Video: George RR Martin on Writing for Beauty and the Beast
Martin has shown keen interest in Beauty & the Beast; adapting the tale for TV in the late 80s was a high point of his career. He even named his bookstore in Santa Fe Beastly Books, and named the cinema next door for Jean Cocteau, who also adapted the tale and created an earlier version of Gaston). This concept of kidnapping one’s romantic interest and blaming it on a rival to incite violence also crops up in The Princess Bride, which Martin has stated is his favorite fantasy film after the Lord of the Rings series.
Behaving like Prince Humperdinck from The Princess Bride or Gaston from Beauty & the Beast, driven by rage over the incident at Harrenhal and a family history of Targaryen betrayal, Robert lied about his queen of love and beauty and made Rhaegar out to be a beast, having them both kidnapped (with the help of his allies) but pretending otherwise as a pretext to win the throne. He then had to bury this secret, as he would lose support if it was known that the rebellion was built on such a malicious lie.
Martin is obviously inspired by Disney. In the last part, we showed how the torture of the Blue Bard, ordered by Cersei to extract a confession to undermine Margaery, is meant to reflect the story of Snow White, in which her vain and wicked step-mother is told by a magic mirror that the princess is more beautiful, leading her to send a huntsman to kill her. The huntsman takes Snow White into the deep of the wood but lets her flee, presenting a boar’s heart to the evil queen instead. Similarly, Robert is a huntsman who is killed by a boar, with the aid of strongwine supplied by his evil queen. Additional elements of Disney's Snow White & the Seven Dwarfs can be seen in parallels between Robert's only loss at Ashford and Dunk's trial at the Ashford Tourney in The Hedge Knight.
When Dunk travels to the Ashford Tourney, he recites lyrics from the Seven Dwarf's song Heigh-ho.

Off to Ashford to see the fair maid, heigh-ho, heigh-ho, Dunk thought miserably as he dug.

- The Hedge Knight
Like Snow White had Seven Dwarfs to defend her, Dunk defended himself in a Trial by Seven at the Ashford Tourney, and Rhaegar was accompanied by half a dozen companions when he went missing, enough to defend himself in a Trial by Seven. A troupe of a half dozen comic dwarfs also appear in The Mystery Knight, using pig bladders, like Robert was piss-drunk when he was killed by a pig. Dunk was championed by Robert's grandfather, Lyonel Baratheon, who defeated Robert Ashford during the tourney. Lord Lyonel later rebelled against the Iron Throne, after Duncan the Small betrayed the Laughing Storm by breaking off a betrothal to his daughter, similar to how Rhaegar betrayed Robert by crowning his betrothed at the Harrenhal Tourney. Duncan the Small's betrayal led Egg to arrange a marriage between his daughter Rhaelle and Lyonel's heir, which put Robert Baratheon in the line of succession; this family history would color Robert's perception of Rhaegar's betrayal, driving him to improve upon his grandfather's revenge.
Steffon was the name given to Robert Baratheon's father; Dunk was betrayed by red-apple Steffon Fossoway at Ashford, which led his cousin Raymun to create an offshoot branch, the green-apple Fossoways. A tender, protective Fossoway husband is used at the Purple Wedding to demonstrate how callous it would have been for Rhaegar to intentionally crown another women with his pregnant, delicate wife Princess Elia present. A poison apple brings down Snow White, after the evil queen discovers the huntsman replaced her heart with a boar's heart, conjuring up Robert's death scene which reminds Ned of his promise to Lyanna:

“Serve the boar at my funeral feast,” Robert rasped. “Apple in its mouth, skin seared crisp. Eat the bastard. Don’t care if you choke on him. Promise me, Ned.”
“I promise.” Promise me, Ned, Lyanna’s voice echoed.

- A Game of Thrones Eddard XIII
"The quarrel between Green and Red Apple Fossoway in the Hedge Knight story is another example of 'discordant apples'... At a tournament of all places." - The Blue Rose of Discord by u/Bronze_Age_472

The reason for the Trojan War according to myth, was a beauty contest. Three contestants were seeking someone to judge their beauty; Hera, Athena and Aphrodite. Aphrodite won the contest, but only after she bribed Paris with Helen wife of Menelaus. Paris the judge, votes for Aphrodite by giving her an Apple. The other goddesses were furious and the conflict escalated out of control. The Greeks rallied around Menelaus and went to war with Troy.
The Blue Rose is a metaphorical "apple of discord". Like the apple of discord, it is nothing by itself, but in the right context leads to a larger conflict. It symbolizes how small things can create huge conflicts, how things quickly spin out of control. When Rhaegar gave the crown to Lyanna, nobody was happy... Just like the Judgement of Paris right before the Trojan War.

Like Rhaegar and Lyanna are often compared to Paris and Helen, figures of the mythical Trojan War, Robert is clearly meant to be considered relative to a maiden's fantasy, such as Snow White & the Seven Dwarfs or Beauty & the Beast:

Would that Ned had been able to say the same. Fifteen years past, when they had ridden forth to win a throne, the Lord of Storm’s End had been clean-shaven, clear-eyed, and muscled like a maiden’s fantasy. Six and a half feet tall, he towered over lesser men, and when he donned his armor and the great antlered helmet of his House, he became a veritable giant. He’d had a giant’s strength too, his weapon of choice a spiked iron warhammer that Ned could scarcely lift. In those days, the smell of leather and blood had clung to him like perfume.

- A Game of Thrones Eddard I
In the last part, we used the evil queen's magic mirror from Snow White to provide insight into Robert through Cersei. Like he projected Lyanna onto Cersei on their wedding night, Robert projects his own actions onto Rhaegar, while caressing the cheek of Lyanna's statue and secretly lamenting to himself that he was with her sexually just once:

The king touched her cheek, his fingers brushing across the rough stone as gently as if it were living flesh. “I vowed to kill Rhaegar for what he did to her.”
“You did,” Ned reminded him.
“Only once,” Robert said bitterly.

- A Game of Thrones Eddard I
This subtext is mirrored by Jon Connington's love for Rhaegar, as he laments that Rhaegar ass-ended his tower only once. Connington then states that all the women cried to Rhaegar's music, like Lyanna cried at Harrenhal, reinforcing the link between this passage and the scene in the crypts.

Yet when they parted, Jon Connington did not go to the sept. Instead his steps led him up to the roof of the east tower, the tallest at Griffin's Roost. As he climbed he remembered past ascents—a hundred with his lord father, who liked to stand and look out over woods and crags and sea and know that all he saw belonged to House Connington, and one (only one!) with Rhaegar Targaryen. Prince Rhaegar was returning from Dorne, and he and his escort had lingered here a fortnight. He was so young then, and I was younger. Boys, the both of us. At the welcoming feast, the prince had taken up his silver-stringed harp and played for them. A song of love and doom, Jon Connington recalled, and every woman in the hall was weeping when he put down the harp. Not the men, of course. Particularly not his own father, whose only love was land. Lord Armond Connington spent the entire evening trying to win the prince to his side in his dispute with Lord Morrigen.

- A Dance with Dragons The Griffon Reborn
Robert's false accusation of rape mirrors Lord Mathis Rowan's daughter's lie which landed Dareon, a singer and harpist, like Rhaegar, on the Wall.

It made her angry to see Dareon sitting there so brazen, making eyes at Lanna as his fingers danced across the harp strings.

_

He is a man of the Night's Watch, she thought, as he sang about some stupid lady throwing herself off some stupid tower because her stupid prince was dead. The lady should go kill the ones who killed her prince. And the singer should be on the Wall.

- A Feast for Crows Cat of the Canals
Jon Snow ends up at the Wall as an indirect consequence of Rhaegar being falsely accused of the rape of Lyanna. Jon later betrays the Watch to save (fake) Arya and is murdered as a result, like Arya murders Dareon for desertion; if she understood why Dareon took the black, maybe she'd be more forgiving of his betrayal. She might not be, because of the same conditioning that prevents Ned from showing mercy to Gared after he was chased south of the Wall by a direwolf. Likewise, if Rhaegar told Robert that he crowned Lyanna by mistake, Robert would still be unable to forgive the public humiliation he suffered as a result. And so despite Rhaegar's willingness to defend himself in a Trial by Seven, Robert went along with the rebel's plot to overthrow the Targaryen dynasty, which involved abducting both Rhaegar and Lyanna, and stashing her in a tower for the duration of the rebellion.

He found himself thinking of Robert more and more. He saw the king as he had been in the flower of his youth, tall and handsome, his great antlered helm on his head, his warhammer in hand, sitting his horse like a horned god. He heard his laughter in the dark, saw his eyes, blue and clear as mountain lakes. “Look at us, Ned,” Robert said. “Gods, how did we come to this? You here, and me killed by a pig. We won a throne together …”

- A Game of Thrones Eddard XV
Horny as ever and near the tower of joy, travelling alone to maintain his secrets, Robert sought out his lady love after his only defeat at Ashford; fear of death has a way of driving men back into the womb. Robert claimed Lyanna at the tower she was imprisoned in, and she used his hunting knife, the one given to him as a gift from Jon Arryn, to defend herself.
Remember what Ygritte told Jon Snow, outside of the tower Queenscrown?

“A man can own a woman or a man can own a knife,” Ygritte told him, “but no man can own both. Every little girl learns that from her mother.”

- A Storm of Swords Jon V
https://preview.redd.it/eu2s4590dn3b1.jpg?width=953&format=pjpg&auto=webp&s=ccfb8d31abe50ef2b7c5201a7dd3addc95a2f02f

A teenage human trafficking victim who was initially charged with first-degree murder after she stabbed her accused rapist to death was sentenced Tuesday in an Iowa court to five years of closely supervised probation and ordered to pay $150,000 restitution to the man’s family.

Speaking of knives...
★ King Robert sent the Catspaw by u/M_Tootles:

• In this scenario, Robert’s “mad”, wine-soaked “master plan” was to arm his mercy-dealing catspaw with a Valyrian steel and dragonbone dagger for which he personally had no use but which he decided in his pie-eyed state would, when intentionally left at the scene of Bran’s unfortunate but ultimately justifiable end, look like the “signature” of a retribution-seeking Targaryen sympathizer, for It Was Known that the Targaryens hated not just Robert, but also Ned Stark, one of “the Usurper’s Dogs” whom they held personally responsible for the murder of Rhaegar’s children.
• And then there is the tourney he throws in honor of Ned, whose prizes just so happen to add up to exactly one thousand gold dragons for every silver stag the catspaw was paid, which looks an awful lot like the act of a man suffering from a guilty conscience. As does Robert drinking and hunting himself to death.

If blaming a Targaryen for his own misdeeds worked once, why wouldn’t Robert try it again?

This was something else: poison in the dark, a knife thrust to the soul. This he could never forgive, no more than he had forgiven Rhaegar. He will kill them all, Ned realized.

- A Game of Thrones Eddard XII
Sometime after his loss at Ashford, Robert appeared at Stoney Sept wounded and alone, while waiting for Ned to bring reinforcements from the North.

He had lost it all at Stoney Sept, in his arrogance.
Robert Baratheon had been hiding somewhere in the town, wounded and alone. Jon Connington had known that, and he had also known that Robert's head upon a spear would have put an end to the rebellion, then and there. He was young and full of pride. How not? King Aerys had named him Hand and given him an army, and he meant to prove himself worthy of that trust, of Rhaegar's love. He would slay the rebel lord himself and carve a place out for himself in all the histories of the Seven Kingdoms.

- A Dance with Dragons The Griffin Reborn
Robert fathered his bastard Bella in a brothel before the Battle of the Bells, a nod to Belle from Beauty & the Beast. This is just one of many acts that depicts his bestial nature; despite being in the midst of a war he claims to be fighting for Lyanna, Robert still found time to fuck all the whores at the Peach:

As she sat in the common room in her stupid girl clothes, Arya remembered what Syrio Forel had told her, the trick of looking and seeing what was there. When she looked, she saw more serving wenches than any inn could want, and most of them young and comely. And come evenfall, lots of men started coming and going at the Peach. They did not linger long in the common room, not even when Tom took out his woodharp and began to sing “Six Maids in a Pool.” The wooden steps were old and steep, and creaked something fierce whenever one of the men took a girl upstairs. “I bet this is a brothel,” she whispered to Gendry.
“You don’t even know what a brothel is.”
“I do so,” she insisted. “It’s like an inn, with girls.”
He was turning red again. “What are you doing here, then?” he demanded. “A brothel’s no fit place for no bloody highborn lady, everybody knows that.”
One of the girls sat down on the bench beside him. “Who’s a highborn lady? The little skinny one?” She looked at Arya and laughed. “I’m a king’s daughter myself.”
Arya knew she was being mocked. “You are not.”
“Well, I might be.” When the girl shrugged, her gown slipped off one shoulder. “They say King Robert fucked my mother when he hid here, back before the battle. Not that he didn’t have all the other girls too, but Leslyn says he liked my ma the best.”
The girl did have hair like the old king’s, Arya thought; a great thick mop of it, as black as coal. That doesn’t mean anything, though. Gendry has the same kind of hair too. Lots of people have black hair.
“I’m named Bella,” the girl told Gendry. “For the battle. I bet I could ring your bell, too. You want to?”

- A Storm of Swords Arya V
This bestial nature and Ned's willingness to enable it is put on full display when Robert returns to the Trident in A Game of Thrones. Robert allows Lady and Mycah to be killed as vengeance for Joffrey’s injury, despite later admitting he knew his heir was lying. Joffrey sustained this injury at the Trident because he drunkenly misperceived the fight between Arya and the butcher’s boy, and cruelly acted on his ‘chivalric duty’ to defend noble ladies. Likewise, Robert (and everyone else) misperceived Rhaegar’s intent when he crowned Lyanna, and his fervor for vengeance led him to go along with a plot to abduct her and pin the blame on Rhaegar, like Joffrey lied about what transpired during the fight. Both Lady the direwolf and wolf-blooded Lyanna were held accountable for crimes they were innocent of; Lyanna’s crowning may have suggested to Robert that she actively enticed Rhaegar, like rape victims are routinely scrutinized for their attire and other non-sexual behaviors to suggest they somehow invited their rapes. Ned went along with these obviously unjust actions, out of loyalty to his friend and king, and to prevent further harm to his family.

All Ned could do was take her in his arms and hold her while she wept. He looked across the room at Robert. His old friend, closer than any brother. “Please, Robert. For the love you bear me. For the love you bore my sister. Please.”
The king looked at them for a long moment, then turned his eyes on his wife.
“Damn you, Cersei,” he said with loathing.
Ned stood, gently disengaging himself from Sansa’s grasp. All the weariness of the past four days had returned to him. “Do it yourself then, Robert,” he said in a voice cold and sharp as steel. “At least have the courage to do it yourself.”
Robert looked at Ned with flat, dead eyes and left without a word, his footsteps heavy as lead. Silence filled the hall.
“Where is the direwolf?” Cersei Lannister asked when her husband was gone. Beside her, Prince Joffrey was smiling.
“The beast is chained up outside the gatehouse, Your Grace,” Ser Barristan Selmy answered reluctantly.
“Send for Ilyn Payne.”
“No,” Ned said. “Jory, take the girls back to their rooms and bring me Ice.” The words tasted of bile in his throat, but he forced them out. “If it must be done, I will do it.”
Cersei Lannister regarded him suspiciously. “You, Stark? Is this some trick? Why would you do such a thing?”
They were all staring at him, but it was Sansa’s look that cut. “She is of the north. She deserves better than a butcher.”
He left the room with his eyes burning and his daughter’s wails echoing in his ears, and found the direwolf pup where they chained her. Ned sat beside her for a while. “Lady,” he said, tasting the name. He had never paid much attention to the names the children had picked, but looking at her now, he knew that Sansa had chosen well. She was the smallest of the litter, the prettiest, the most gentle and trusting. She looked at him with bright golden eyes, and he ruffled her thick grey fur.
Shortly, Jory brought him Ice.
When it was over, he said, “Choose four men and have them take the body north. Bury her at Winterfell.”
“All that way?” Jory said, astonished.
“All that way,” Ned affirmed. “The Lannister woman shall never have this skin.”
He was walking back to the tower to give himself up to sleep at last when Sandor Clegane and his riders came pounding through the castle gate, back from their hunt.
There was something slung over the back of his destrier, a heavy shape wrapped in a bloody cloak. “No sign of your daughter, Hand,” the Hound rasped down, “but the day was not wholly wasted. We got her little pet.” He reached back and shoved the burden off, and it fell with a thump in front of Ned.
Bending, Ned pulled back the cloak, dreading the words he would have to find for Arya, but it was not Nymeria after all. It was the butcher’s boy, Mycah, his body covered in dried blood. He had been cut almost in half from shoulder to waist by some terrible blow struck from above.
“You rode him down,” Ned said.
The Hound’s eyes seemed to glitter through the steel of that hideous dog’s-head helm. “He ran.” He looked at Ned’s face and laughed. “But not very fast.”

- A Game of Thrones Eddard III
Most assume Gregor Clegane is the giant in armor made of stone in Bran’s vision of the Trident… yet he wasn’t present during the events Bran envisions. This dark shadow is a better fit for Robert, a veritable giant who won the throne at the Trident, who is first introduced as having gained eight stone, with a girth to match his height (like a mountain), and whose blood turns black when he is mortally wounded by a boar.

He looked south, and saw the great blue-green rush of the Trident. He saw his father pleading with the king, his face etched with grief. He saw Sansa crying herself to sleep at night, and he saw Arya watching in silence and holding her secrets hard in her heart. There were shadows all around them. One shadow was dark as ash, with the terrible face of a hound. Another was armored like the sun, golden and beautiful. Over them both loomed a giant in armor made of stone, but when he opened his visor, there was nothing inside but darkness and thick black blood.

- A Game of Thrones Bran III
It would not be unusual for Bran to see both a person’s physical form and their shadow at the same time; this is how shadows work. Ned undoubtedly experiences inner turmoil in this scene, going along with injustice in service to a cowardly king despite the pain it causes his daughters. So, it's easy to see how the shadow with the face of the hound and the golden shadow are both cast by Ned, depicting a light and dark side at war within himself, representing his competing duties to his king and children which led him to execute Lady and accept Mycah's unjust death. It's not unusual that Ned would have multiple shadows, a dark and a light side making him grey as the direwolf on his sigil; recall, Stannis tells us that some lights cast more than one shadow:

King Stannis pointed a finger. “There you err, Onion Knight. Some lights cast more than one shadow. Stand before the nightfire and you’ll see for yourself. The flames shift and dance, never still. The shadows grow tall and short, and every man casts a dozen. Some are fainter than others, that’s all. Well, men cast their shadows across the future as well. One shadow or many. Melisandre sees them all.”

- A Clash of Kings Davos II
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Alfie Allen: You know, I asked him about who Jon Snow’s real parents were, and he told me. I can’t say who, but I can tell you that it involves a bit of a Luke Skywalker situation. It will all come to fruition eventually.
This series will conclude next time with a foray into Ned's inner turmoil, examining thoughts and actions which indict his friend and king. To preview where this series is headed, in its full audio/visual glory with greater detail, look here.

For context, the Chaos Champion owns a daemon weapon which renders him immortal whilst he holds it. He had previously "given" the Risen Zabriel a strike by allowing Zabriel to cut off his head. Now he comes to collect.
“Zabriel!’ roared a voice, but that was not one of my brothers coming to my aid. I stumbled to my feet to see the massive form of Markog bearing down on me, his enormous, pale-bladed axe clutched in both hands.
‘I owe you a strike!’ the commander of the Dolorous Guard bellowed, almost jovially. Borz flew at him from his left, his power fist drawn back to lay the traitor out, but Markog was too quick: the haft of his axe lashed out and caught Borz on his helmet’s faceplate, spinning him to the ground, and by the time my brother had regained his feet one of Markog’s warriors had fallen on him from behind with a power knife, and Borz was fully occupied with trying to save his own life.
(...)
‘I owe you a strike,’ he growled, strange harmonies emanating from behind his helmet’s faceplate, and swung. The pale-bladed axe descended like death, too fast for me to roll clumsily aside from.
The edge stopped a mere finger’s breadth from my helmet seal, but this was not an act of mercy or mockery on my enemy’s behalf. Instead, his weapon was thrown up and back again by the blade of the Terranic greatsword which had intercepted the swing just below the axe’s head.‘I owe him a strike!’ Markog roared at my saviour.
‘This is a matter of honour!"
’‘You think we conquered the galaxy with honour? You children are all the same,’ Galad snorted, and attacked.
The Cenobite’s Cataphractii armour made him a match for Markog in size, and apparently in strength as well: their weapons clashed together, but the commander of the Dolorous Guard was unable to throw Galad away from him, despite his straining. Instead each warrior took a backward step, then swung again. Markog was blisteringly quick, and his axe spun through the air faster than should have been possible, but Galad was his equal, calmly parrying and deflecting as though he knew what strikes were coming even before Markog did. Destroyers fought and bled in the crucible of brutal, close-in killing, with no quarter asked or given, so I was no stranger to the cut and thrust of combat. Seeing Galad at work, however, took me back to when I was a raw recruit, watching my instructors handle their weapons with what seemed at the time to be godlike speed and skill.
But I had no time to gape. I lunged for my dropped pistol, raised it, and opened fire. The bolts detonated on Markog’s leg, arm, and pauldron, and although his armour repaired the damage within moments of it occurring, the impacts knocked him off balance and caused his next strike to miss its mark completely and bite deep into the floor.
‘Cowards!’ Markog roared, just deflecting Galad’s next blow, 'Fight me–’
He cut off as Launciel appeared on his right, and drove his power sword through Markog’s armour and right through his ribcage. The giant stiffened in what could well have been agony and which might, given what I suspected of his allegiances, possibly be ecstasy, but Galad was in no mood to leave him to the experience uninterrupted. The Terranic greatsword lashed out again, and Markog’s left arm was cut clean from his body, his pauldron severed in two by the disrupting power field and razor-sharp edge of the ancient weapon.
Launciel withdrew his own sword and stepped back from Markog’s clumsy, unbalanced counterstrike. The giant was roaring wordlessly now, his pain and rage too overwhelming for anything else. I rose to my feet and fired another bolt, shattering his helmet just as Galad swung again and took his right arm off as well.
That changed things. The haft of the axe was still clutched in his hand, but Markog’s unnatural resilience vanished now that hand was no longer attached to his body. He staggered, and blood began to drip thickly from his shoulders. It started to clot almost immediately, since he was still a Space Marine with our enhanced biology and healing abilities, but it appeared that it was the weapon itself which had granted him the ability to survive decapitation rather than any innate ability of his own.
‘No!’ he bellowed thickly, and took a step towards Galad.
Galad was clearly taking no chances: he crouched and swung his blade horizontally, and severed both legs with one blow. Markog clattered to the floor with a howl. Galad rose back to his full height, reversed his grip on his sword, and plunged it into Markog’s chest.
The blade was wide enough to strike both hearts simultaneously, and I had no doubt that Galad had directed it with the requisite skill for it to do just that. Markog spasmed as much as he could without any attached limbs, but Galad did not linger over his kill. He wrenched his sword out with one hand and raised the other, firing his plasma-caster. I followed the direction of his shot, my bolt pistol raised and ready, but I found myself with a dearth of targets.
(...)
I walked to Markog, and stamped on his helmet. It shattered and fell away to reveal his face, twisted in pain and hatred. He reached up towards me with his unnaturally long tongue, then cackled at me.
‘I will taste your flesh yet, twice-cursed traitor, and you will–’
I emptied the rest of that pistol’s clip into his head without waiting for him to finish, until I had blown a hole in the floor beneath and the legs of my armour were speckled with fine particles of his skin, bone, and brain. Perhaps I should have been more careful about allowing his obviously tainted flesh to touch my armour in such a manner, but I had been a Destroyer – I was a Destroyer – and our enemy’s annihilation always took priority over our own safety.

[Chapter One]
Prev and Next
​
Late at night, in the back of a warehouse.
Grigory squirmed against his restraints. The rope binding his hands was coarse and too tight, causing his hands to lose feeling. A bored council guard stood nearby, but was mostly ignoring him. He wasn’t going to get far with his hands and feet tied together. It was worse than he had thought possible. They are very much going to kill him tonight. This was even worse than either Stanisk or Aethlina had speculated, and he just knew that they would use his role in this disaster against him in future disagreements. However, he might be overly optimistic worrying about a future that might not include him.
Grigory thought over what he had left in his notebooks, contemplating if it would be enough for someone to continue his work. He wasn't sure. It was a lot more than he started with, but there weren't a lot of qualified scholars looking to follow his footsteps. The best outcomes for a lot of different paths all need him to survive.
Grigory tried not to be distracted by the ropes digging into him, and frantically wracked his mind for any sort of escape plan. He had a single imp totem on him, and they left him with his satchel nearby. That’s something. He would need to be untied to invoke it, and a single perfectly safe imp wouldn’t change the balance of power much. Perhaps if everyone but the four executive members left, he and Stanisk might have a chance to overpower them. Well he could at least be distracting while Stanisk overpowered them. They also hadn’t checked his satchel yet, so maybe he could bribe them with the ten thousand glindi engraved gold bar he brought to pledge his support? Bribes are a type of negotiation, and being tied up while they already had the gold put him in a frustratingly weak position to start negotiations. Not getting executed by the organised crime successor to the Council of Demonologists wasn’t on his list, but he still felt it was important.
Grigory could clearly see and hear the meeting continue in the centre of the warehouse. A small detail that he noticed was just how small the sums were. Robberies of a few hundred glindi? The value of a business protection racket being ten glucks a week? Had the runaway success of his imp-made goods distorted his value of money? Pandemonium Partners profited a few hundred thousand a month, and the big safe in the workshop’s basement held about a million glindi, mostly in heavy gold bars. That was after the expenses, taxes and salaries had been paid. Maybe bribes will work here.
Another trend that emerged was how cheap lives appeared to be. Stole a knife from the boss? Death. Miscounted the take? Death. Didn’t show up to the job? Finger loss. How they attracted or retained any talent at all was its own mystery. On that note, we wonder if he enormously overpaid his people? These goons were killing each other over sums of money close to what he paid each of his security goons a day, which in turn was a fraction of what he was paying his partners. All the people he hired seemed excited when he told them the starting salary, and not a single one asked for a raise. Not the time for that! Focus on the matter at hand! Grigory continued to look for anything that he could use to escape.
All too soon the business part of the meeting was concluded. Two of the Council's guards wheeled out a cask of beer, and a crate of cheap clay mugs. Not great news for plans that require being left alone. In singles and groups the ‘Demonologists’ started to come over to where he was tied up. To drink cheap beer and look upon true evil in his demon summoning face.
“Hullo gentlemen! This is all a silly mistake, I’m sure we can work something out,” Grigory said with a calmness and pleasantness he didn’t feel.
A gangster in a threadbare tunic and patched leather pants started going through his coat, and then his satchel. His notebooks with neatly written titles were thrown on the floor, and the minor spell reagents placed on top of a nearby crate.
“Holy shit!” he exclaimed far too loudly, ensuring everyone saw him pull out the slim gold bar, about the size of a knife handle. “This can’t be real?!” The gangster saw how everyone near him stared, mouths agape at the bar in his open hand. The bar’s engraving of the Royal Mint of Hiruxia glinting in the flickering rushlight.
“Back off! I found it!” He held the gold tight in his fist and drew his dirty, nicked knife from his belt with his free hand. Quicker than a blink of an eye every member had their blades out and the men at arms from the edges moved towards the commotion.
“PUT IT AWAY!” boomed Arcanist Devorio. He reasserted control of the situation with palpable menace. “The prisoner and all his goods are the property of the Council! Put it down on the table, Tricky Tupo!”
The gangsters grudgingly resheathed their weapons, and Tricky Tupo passed the bar to the Arcanist without making eye contact.
“Holy shit, it is actually real gold!” Devorio muttered after inspecting it for a second. “Where the hell did you steal something like this?”
Something in his phrasing crystalized a plan in Grigory’s mind. An insane, reckless, dangerous plan. Grigory tried not to smile when he replied, “Not stolen at all, well not from our plane of reality.”
“You summoned it?” the well dressed head of the council asked incredulously.
“Oh no, not at all! I stole it from the treasury of Hell! You see that’s the point of having a perfectly obedient demon, it does what I say, and not what the Lords of Hell say,” Grigory lied. The Hellplane wasn’t organised like that at all. There was no such thing as a treasury there. He still wasn’t sure how to sell it, but he hoped there was enough ignorance and greed in the room to do the heavy lifting for him.
“Demonologists have never stolen from hell! As far as I know. I think?” The arcanist was in uncertain territory.
“Mostly true! But we steal minor things all the time, like magical energy, or arcane secrets, but the exciting advance I wrote to you about was stealing things like minerals or artefacts and sometimes regular boring gold.” Grigory was hoping he was priming their greed enough. He worried he was being too subtle.
“Well, it looks like you have a new job! You steal Hell gold for us now!” The Arcanist-turned-crime-lord was back in familiar territory of coercing people into giving him what he wanted.
“Oh I couldn’t!" Grigory feigned reluctance. “I don’t have the right equipment, I haven’t done the full balancing equations for today’s planar alignments! I should go home and get what I need, and I’ll be happy to come back tomorrow and we can get a fresh start on this.”
“Not a chance! You’re doing the ritual this instant, or your blood will cover this entire floor!” Davenio countered.
Grigory, aware that excess blood could damage goods, decided against arguing. “Alright, you win, I’ll have my imp steal another dozen gold bars tonight, I guess. But that’s it! I’m leaving after that!”
“Hah! We’ll see about that!” The arcanist cut Grigory’s bonds while staring straight into his eyes.
Grigory rubbed his sore wrists, and looked at the fifty or so people that had gathered around him. Cruel smiles and the stink of cheap beer surrounded him, but he had a plan. “First I’ll need to summon my imp, to help me set up the ritual!” Grigory found himself speaking like a showman at a fair, with exaggerated gestures and in a loud clear voice. The assembled thugs, goons and crime lords backed up to give him some space. Aethlina suggested obscuring the details of invoking a demon, which was a great idea. He slowly and rhythmically chanted in demonic detail how he likes his tea, with lots of hand gestures and steps and ritualistic looking movements. After a few long seconds he pulled out the imp totem from his vest, waved it around like a wand for a bit before doing the quick gesture of invocation to actually invoke the imp. With two small clicks the tiny imp landed on the rough floorboards of the warehouse. Several goons gasped, and one of the lady goons even shrieked a bit. Truly a sad state of affairs when someone calling themselves a demonologist is startled by a tiny perfectly safe imp!
Grigory picked up his notebooks from the floor, and found the one titled ‘Charts, Formulas, and Tables.’. Doing some mental maths, and modifying a few old spells and rituals on the fly, Grigory gave his imp simple directions in demonic. He could have just spoken plainly, but he was aware he was also putting on a show. Keeping everyone’s attention was important for the next part.
“Ahem, is there any furnace ash, or the like? I’ll need to create a circle in ash or wax or sand.” A few people turned to look for what he needed, and Grigory returned to working out the planar alignment in his notebook. They returned with a canvas bag of stove ashes, he looked them over and nodded. “Does anyone have a silvered steel blade I can use? Anyone at all? No matter, I have one!” Grigory pulled out the small pocket knife he used to cut his food with. It actually was silvered steel, since that also came up from time to time in his line of work. Besides it was interesting to learn that was the only silvered steel blade in the room.
Grigory passed the bag of ash to the imp. He gave detailed instructions on the shape, symbols, and spacing of the elements, all crucial to the huge circle taking shape in the middle of the warehouse floor. The assembled crowd of dirty, dangerous, and desperate deviants started to look concerned. What had started as a bit of mean spirited fun was fast turning into the exact thing they knew was evil incarnate. A path to Hell was being built in front of them! A few moved to leave, but the others called them names and threatened their reputations, forcing them to stay and watch. There was a good reason to stay, there was about to be a lot of gold for everyone. In theory.
At last the preparations were complete. Grigory slowly walked the entire outside of his circle to make sure it was unbroken. He had done similar rituals before, but always with hours of double checking, and never with an audience. His hands were sweaty and shaking as he tore a page out of his notebook. Quickly, he scribbled down a final set of instructions in demonic script and handed it to the imp.
“Merp!” it said in agreement.
Grigory turned to address everyone. He saw a very worried Stanisk standing off to the back, and he subtly gestured for him to wait. Steadying his nerves for a second he addressed his gathered kidnappers, “Soon you will see a small tear in reality! Plug your ears, lest the screams of the damned drive you mad!” Grigory looked around, to make sure everyone was properly alarmed, and activated the ritual.
With a crack of thunder and a hurricane blast of dry wind that reeked of hot iron and sulphur Grigory’s surprise appeared in the centre of the circle. A towering rage demon, its black armoured hide covered in dancing hellfire, its wolf-like face filled with jagged fangs, and its shoulders brushing the rafters of the old warehouse. The assembled criminals looked up from the floor and saw the bipedal nightmare towering over them. They stood stalk still, not knowing how to react, nor sure what exactly was happening.
Grigory stood up straight and turned on the crowd, in a commanding bellow he condemned them, “What kind of idiots let a master demonologist do any summoning ritual he wants?! Look upon the true power of hell and despair!! Your petty schemes are –”
Grigory’s gloating was cut short by a foundation shaking roar from the demon. It started grabbing people at random, and biting them in half, throwing hunks of torso against the wall with splattering force. In accordance with the note, Grigory’s imp hopped up on the table, grabbed the bar of gold from where Arcanist Devorio put it, and sprinted figure eights between the demon's legs. With everyone’s fear AND greed now focused in the same area, Grigory took his stuff and ran for the door. Most of the so-called ‘demonologists’ were trying to escape, but a few were focused on the imp running with a gold bar held over its head. That was as much as a labourer would make in a year, and they couldn’t just walk away from that. The massive demon continued to kill and dismember with glee. The sound of tearing meat and snapping bones was even louder than the screams of the dying. As far as distractions go, Grigory was pretty proud of this one.
Grigory started for the door they had entered by. However, it was jammed with people trying to escape. He stopped at the edge of the chaos, trying to gather his thoughts. As he did, a better solution appeared to him. The demon grabbed one of the cutthroats that dove at the imp’s gold, and threw him at the wall with enough force to vaporise him. The impact filled the whole side of the warehouse in a steamy red mist, and sprayed meaty chunks over everything. The demon howled with laughter when he saw how people popped when thrown into walls.
The important part for Grigory was that there was now a second exit. An exit covered in gore and bone fragments, but entirely clear of goons. Signalling Stanisk, he made his way out through the wreckage. Slower than he’d like, and getting blood and worse on everything, but a clear path. The demon had stopped feeding entirely and was just throwing people as hard as he could, first at the floor then at other people. Its roars of rage were now peals of terrifying laughter. The air in the warehouse was thick with a mist of blood from the high energy impacts.
“I assume it knows not to kill us?” Stanisk asked in a ragged voice once he caught up to Grigory.
“Yes, but only not to kill people in purple. So don’t take off your tabard! It was the best I could do!”
They struggled out into the cool night air of the yard, free of the stenches of hell, gore and terror.
Stanisk looked down at his tabard, so soaked in fresh blood that it looked black. He ran even faster to the wagon.
“So this thing is just going to destroy the city until someone slays it then?” Stanisk asked, as they ran to the cart while frantically gesturing for his two guards to turn the wagon around and get it rolling.
“Oh no! Just until midnight” Grigory explained after he dove into the moving wagon. He wiped his blood soaked hands on his blood soaked robes, to no benefit.
Stanisk stared backwards at the destruction unfolding behind them. The demon had brought the warehouse down around himself and was clearly visible from the road. It was still energetically killing and smashing. “That's more than an hour! You reckon it’ll come for us?”
The single horse dragging a cargo wagon with four men on it was maddeningly sluggish
Grigory fumbled around for something to get the blood and bone fragments off his glasses. Finally finding part of his undershirt clean, he wiped them and he replied,“Oh my no,It’s bound to the summoning circle. Within a hundred paces.” They both watched as a few people fled on horseback, and a wagon rattled away at a gallop. Mostly it was a mess of shouting and terror. Knife fights broke out as people tried to commandeer the remaining horses. Horses were panicking and bolting without riders. Some survivors just ran away on foot. With every fresh kill the demon laughed so loud that Grigory felt like it was coming from his own skull.
“What the hell happened in there, sirs?” asked the terrified guard driving the cart.
Grigory turned around to answer, but Stanisk put a hand on his arm and answered instead, “Those filthy witches in there tried to kill us with a demon, but Grigory outsmarted them and turned it on its creators. Keep driving Kedril, we should be safe in an intersection or so.”
“Light preserve us all!” Kedril the driver said. “Is that a real demon Sir?”
Grigory watched the demon grab one of the goons fighting in the yard and threw him in a high arc towards the city centre. The demon’s arm cracked like a whip as it threw. The ragged corpse left a trail of blood mist as it arced far overhead.
Grigory answered calmly, “Yes.”
Grigory pulled out his demon totem from his robes, and devoked the imp, causing a gold bar a block and a half behind them to clatter to the blood soaked warehouse floor and slide into some debris. He was surprised how calm he felt. By all accounts his plan was in shambles and he’d stirred up a dozen hornets nests. Facing certain death and prevailing did wonders for one’s perspective.
Grigory looked over at Stanisk, and he was looking less calm. Which was entirely fair. A lot of uniquely horrific things happened tonight. Stanisk’s mouth was a tight line, face pale and eyes bloodshot. That might have just been blood from before, that got in his eyes.
“We can’t go through town looking like we bathed in the blood of the innocent, take us to the Golden Anchor’s warehouse on Glibstone Street. We own that place, we can clean up and change there,” Stanisk tersely told the driver.
Grigory countered, “First off, the previous owners of this blood were far from innocent, and secondly that’s across town, let's just lay in the bed, throw the rainsheet over us, and go to the main workshop.”
Stanisk groaned and tried to rub the blood off his face while he thought it over, but just smeared it around.
“Fine, Kedril, Remember to do a few triple left turns to make sure we aren’t being followed, like we discussed last month.” Stanisk undid the oilcloth on the side, connected it to the mounting points, and slid underneath.
“I think we need to review our plans!” Grigory whispered.
“Shhhh, cargo don’t talk.” Stanisk whispered back. The soldier cupped his head in one hand, and covered his eyes with the other and tried to get comfortable enough to sleep. Grigory rolled onto his back and stared at the cloth in front of his face. He tried not to dwell on the odd whip crack sound coming from behind them, nor the horrified gasps of the two guards on the driver’s bench while he mentally updated his plans.
****
A few hours later Grigory was bathed, wearing fresh clothes and feeling much better. He sat contemplating at the kitchen table in his workshop. He was troubled by what this was going to mean for his business and for himself. Stanisk was still in the tub cleaning up, and the two guards had been dismissed for the night. It was shortly after midnight now, and that meant more to Grigory than it did other nights. He hoped no one innocent died tonight, but he was also a little surprised how little he was bothered by the destruction he unleashed this evening. Considering it was the first time he took another human’s life, albeit indirectly, he expected a stronger emotional response. Part of this was a clear case of kill or be killed. Another part was these people were awful people. Grigory worried this might mean he had more subconscious bias against the value of the lives of the economically disadvantaged, but that’s probably not it. Being biassed against people that were willing to kill him made more sense, but also he knew the coming years mean that will become the same as willing to kill most of the world.
Grigory put on some fresh tea, and set out another cup for Stanisk when he was done washing. He couldn’t shake the feeling that his worst fear, being mad with power and using that power to violently kill everyone he perceived as an enemy, wasn’t as far-fetched as it was before. These were the goons that might have killed his mentor, Archmage Willoford. Avenging a mentor was a reasonable rationale, at least in songs and plays. Grigory knew that wasn’t his motivation tonight. And besides that was the inquisition from the sounds of it, these ones just celebrated his mentor's execution, which isn’t really moral grounds for demonic dismemberment. He also knew he could have summoned a stench demon or a screaming demon, or just non demon based rituals he could have used to escape without violence. He didn’t even offer to bribe them, just straight to violence. Grigory wasn’t sure he liked finding out who he really was when lives were on the line.
His introspection was interrupted by a sound coming from his workshop door, and he sagged with relief when he saw it was just Aethlina. Relief that was short lived, because the questions started immediately.
“I assume you had something to do with the demonic giant that threw seventeen people into the side of the Cathedral of the Light?” the elv asked, without reproach or scorn.
Grigory took a second to answer. “I had something to do with the presence of that demon in our plane of reality. I had a little to do with either the people it chose to throw. Nothing to do with where it chose to throw them nor its accuracy. Interesting it threw them at the Cathedral, you’d think it would have some kinship with the church? They both love burning people.”
“By all accounts the accuracy at least, was excellent. All the bodies hit Cathedral Square. The Cathedral itself requires extensive repairs to the nave, and two flying buttresses collapsed. At least according to the terrified lady I ran into.” Aethlina paused for a few seconds in case Grigory chose to share more details.
Aethlina asked mildly, “How rude of me. I meant to ask, how did your meeting go tonight?”
Stanisk came out from around the partition wearing fresh clothes. “The fucking witches weren’t even witches! They were just shadow blighted gangsters what stole the demonologists reputation! Broke as shit, and twice as dumb!”
Stanisk grabbed a bottle of whiskey off the shelf and sat down at the table, ignoring the cup and the pot of tea. After drinking right from the bottle he continued, “It hit the actual main Cathedral? The one right in the centre of town? That’s like an hour walk from where we were! A catapult wouldn’t have thrown a person half that far!”
“The one and the same, The Grand Ubrafadter’s residence is in that square, so I assume what follows will be the sort of witch hunt the city has never seen before.” Aethlina turned to Grigory, “May I also assume your reasons for staying in the city are weaker and your reasons for leaving are stronger than they were yesterday?“
“There were definitely survivors, and I was introduced by name. I can’t stay here, probably not in the empire at all. I don’t think they know the name of the company, but Stanisk and I were wearing the company’s sigil, so it might not be long for them to work it out.” Grigory rubbed the bridge of his nose without taking off his glasses. “I guess we should start planning our exit immediately.”
In a rare show of emotion Aethlina smiled for a second, “We are leaving on a ship named the Widow’s Remorse, it’s provisioned for us and departs on the morning tide, in about nine hours. The captain agreed to wait until we were in open water to hear our destination. He and his crew also suffer from a rare medical condition where their memory fades entirely anytime they are given a bag of money. The ship can carry thirty-five passengers, so the guards can bring their families. I’ll describe the places I think we should go, after we are in open waters.”
Grigory was both very impressed and a touch alarmed. “Did you know what would happen at that meeting? Did you know what I was walking into?”
“No, I had mistakenly assumed you were on top of that, and took you on your word about them. The odds of them being what you expected were poor. I also had a detailed plan in case they kidnapped you.”
Stanisk burst out laughing, “Imagine if they kidnapped you, Boss! All trussed up like a rotisserie chicken! Hah! I guess I’ll get packed and meet back here to get everything organised! I’ll miss my townhouse, but I’ve had enough of living in Jagged Cove, it's loud and crowded.”
Stanisk stood up, and turned to leave, but paused mid stride. “Miss Aethlina, how big of an investigation do you reckon it’ll be? Reckon they could keep after us after we leave?”
“Likely.There are cases where the inquisition spent entire centuries on the trail of heretics and their descendents. Those heresies were vocally opposing an aspect of doctrine. This may be the first heresy in which a building-sized demon flung citizens into Cathedral Square. I assume yes, they will be interested in following up.”
“Alright, I’ve got an idea that might buy us some time. Grigory, are there any specific numbers that are significant to demons?”
“Um, not actually, but the older texts are filled with references to threes and eights I guess?” Grigory said with a shrug.
“Perfect!” Stanisks' smile strengthened and he turned to Aethlina. “Can you think of eight nobles, eight businessmen, and eight clergy the city would be better off without? Here, write 'em on this!” He slid her a notebook page when she nodded.
Grigory leaned forward,”I’m not sure what you are going for?”
“In the army, there was a famously clever bird that would trick soldiers, called a red heron. We are going to make a whole flock of ‘em!” Stanisk excitedly explained. “Oh, draw a demon circle on this page, doesn’t have to work or anything, like the one from the warehouse”
Grigory began his sketch. “I don’t think red heron is quite right, but I’m catching your drift.”
While they wrote, Stanisk went to the carved chest where all the imp totems for the workshop were stored, and invoked twenty four of them. Taking Aethlina’s list and Grigory’s sketch, he ordered each imp to sprint across town and use hellfire to scorch the circle into the street in front of the home of a specific name.
After the final imp bounded out of the building and was leaping along the rooflines Stanisk returned to his partners. “Now they’ll have too many leads! Hopefully folk see the imps and hellfire, that’ll be even better!”
“We can just outvoke them in an hour or so, that's easy enough. Great idea, Stanisk!” Grigory said cautiously, still thinking through the plan.
“If your big demon didn’t cause a public panic, I can’t imagine a better way to finish the job.” Aethlina replied.
Stanisk smiled and shrugged. “It wasn’t my good looks alone that kept me alive this long! I’ll send some runners to gather the lads and get this show on the road. Human runners I mean!”
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John 14:16-17, 26: And I will ask the Father, and He will give you another Helper, that He may be with you to the age— the Spirit of truth, whom the world is not able to receive, because it does not see Him nor know. But you know Him, for He abides with you and He will be in you.... But the Helper, the Holy Spirit, whom the Father will send in My name, He will teach you all things and will bring to your remembrance all things that I have said to you.
John 15:26: When the Helper comes, whom I will send to you from the Father, the Spirit of truth who goes forth from the Father, He will bear witness concerning Me.
John 16:7, 13-14: But I tell you the truth, it is profitable for you that I should go away; for unless I go away the Helper will not come to you; but if I go, I will send Him to you... But when He the, Spirit of truth, shall come, He will guide you into all the truth. For He will not speak from Himself, but whatever He may hear, He will speak. And He will declare to you the things coming. He will glorify Me, for He will take from that which is Mine and will disclose it to you.
Translating "Paraklétos"
The translation above (BLB) uses the term "helper," other translations will variously use: advocate, comforter, intercessor, counselor, etc. These are all translating the Greek word παράκλητος (paraklétos). The word itself is variously translated, not because it is difficult to understand, but because we don't have one solid English word that encompasses everything the Greek word means. This word describes someone who is para, or "close" by another and is in defense of them. This can be in defense in regards to comforting or helping with a problem, but this word is also used in legal defense, someone who advocates on another's behalf as an intercessor before a court or an audience. This is why all of these translations are used. Each does represent a different aspect of what this word means. In context, Jesus is comforting his apostles in these chapters. John 13-17 (and part of chapter 18) are all of Jesus' last night before his trials begin. John 13-16 is the "upper room discourse" where Jesus has his final words with his apostles. Chapters 14-16 are mostly repeating the same few points over and over. Namely, that Jesus will show us the way to the Father through the Spirit which will comfort them after he dies. He will soon die, and they will be comforted by the Spirit of truth. John 17 is called Jesus' "high priestly prayer," this entire chapter is Jesus' prayer to the Father. Chapter 18 is when Jesus is captured and taken to be tried. These statements about the Holy Spirit, Spirit of truth, or paraklétos, are found in the above listed verses in chapters 14-16. Jesus is comforting his apostles by telling them things before he goes to his death. He goes on to explain that he will ask for another comforter to come and comfort the apostles after he is gone. For this reason, the context seems to me to be best translated as "comforter," or "helper," because this Spirit is coming to comfort and help the apostles through the period of time after losing Christ, and as they go one their great commission. For the course of this article, we will generally leave the word untranslated for this reason.
Who is the paraklétos? The Holy Spirit
The paraklétos is the Holy Spirit. "I will ask the Father, and He will give you another paraklétos, that He may be with you to the age—the Spirit of truth... But the paraklétos, the Holy Spirit, whom the Father will send in My name..." (John 14:16-17, 26). The Holy Spirit is the paraklétos that the Father will send in the name of Jesus. The paraklétos, Holy Spirit, and Spirit of truth are all equivalent terms referring to the same thing. The paraklétos is the Holy Spirit.
The 3 Trinitarian Arguments
In these passages, many Trinitarians will use them to argue three points.
-1 That the Holy Spirit is a person, due to the fact that "he" is used and not "it."
-2 The Holy Spirit is someone other than the Father or Jesus because the Father sends him, Jesus sends him, and the Spirit is "another" being sent. It follows that if the Holy Spirit is a person, and another, then you have a third person of the Trinity here.
-3 The Holy Spirit proceeds from the Father due to what is said in John 15:26, the Spirit ἐκπορεύεται (ekporeuetai), or, "goes forth, proceeds from" the Father. In the doctrine of the Trinity, the procession of the persons (how the Son and Spirit come from the Father) advocates that the nature by which the Father generates the Son is through begetting, while the Spirit proceeds, or spirates. Depending on the stance on the filioque, the Spirit proceeds from the Father and the Son, or the Father through the Son.
Argument 1, "He"
Looking at argument 1, we find that the Trinitarians do have a particular point here. In Greek, you have grammatical gender. A particular word will have grammatical gender associated with it. Common examples are "logos," or "word," which is grammatically masculine, and "sophia," or "wisdom," which is grammatically feminine. The Greek word for Spirit Πνεῦμα (pneuma), is grammatically neuter. When using a pronoun associated with the subject, the pronouns' grammatical gender must match the subject. So, if we use a pronoun associated with a grammatically feminine word, the corresponding referring pronoun must also be in the feminine gender. Our subject here is "Spirit." Which is grammatically neuter. Therefore, the associated pronoun should be grammatically neuter. However, something different occurs in these passages that we would not expect to see. While referring to a grammatically gendered word, the gender changes to a masculine when the referential word is used.
"But when He (ἐκεῖνος, ekeinos, masculine), the Spirit (Πνεῦμα, Pneuma, neuter) of truth, shall come, He will guide you into all the truth. For He will not speak from Himself (ἑαυτοῦ, heautou, masculine), but whatever He may hear, He will speak. And He will declare to you the things coming. He (ἐκεῖνος, ekeinos, masculine), will glorify Me, for He will take from that which is Mine and will disclose it to you." (John 16:13-14)
As we can see, while the referential pronouns are referring to a grammatically neuter word, we have them in the masculine. Compare this to Matthew 15:22:
"And behold, a Canaanite woman from the same (ἐκείνων, ekeinōn, neuter) region (ὁρίων, horiōn, neuter) having approached, was crying out saying, 'Have mercy on me, Lord, Son of David! My daughter is miserably possessed by a demon.'"
The subject here, being "region," which is grammatically neuter, is paired with the same pronoun used in John 16:13-14 above, but it is also in the neuter gender.
Grammarians say that John is "breaking the rules of Greek grammar" by doing this, and this is for the purpose of referring to a person. The reason why John would change the grammatical gender from a neuter to a masculine is for the purpose of showing that the subject is specifically masculine.
Some Unitarians' Response
Many Unitarians argue that the Holy Spirit is not someone, but, something. It is "God's power," or "an active force." It is a rather impersonal object that's used by God, not a person. If the above argument from the grammar is correct, then this would disprove the Unitarian claim. It is my understanding and opinion that the objection above is correct, and this does disprove the Spirit in this case to be something rather than a person. The Spirit is not "it," but properly, "he." My argument is not against the case made for the grammar, but my argument is against the Unitarians, such as the Jehovah's Witnesses, that claim that the Spirit is nothing more than an impersonal force. Under the study notes in the NWT (New World Translation, the translation made by the Jehovah's Witnesses), they say the following:
Study notes on John 14:16:

When Jesus spoke of the holy spirit, an impersonal force, as a helper and referred to this helper as ‘teaching,’ ‘bearing witness,’ ‘giving evidence,’ ‘guiding,’ ‘speaking,’ ‘hearing,’ and ‘receiving’ (Joh 14:26; 15:26; 16:7-15), he used a figure of speech called personification, that is, referring to something impersonal or inanimate as if it were alive. In the Scriptures, it is not unusual for something that is not actually a person to be personified. Some examples are wisdom, death, sin, and undeserved kindness. (Mt 11:19; Lu 7:35; Ro 5:14, 17, 21; 6:12; 7:8-11) It is obvious that not one of these things is an actual person. God’s spirit is often mentioned together with other impersonal forces or things, further supporting the fact that it is not a person. (Mt 3:11; Ac 6:3, 5; 13:52; 2Co 6:4-8; Eph 5:18) Some argue that the use of Greek masculine pronouns when referring to this “helper” shows that holy spirit is a person. (Joh 14:26) However, Greek grammar requires masculine pronouns when the activity of “the helper” is described since the word for “helper” is in the masculine gender. (Joh 16:7, 8, 13, 14) On the other hand, when the neuter Greek word for “spirit” (pneuʹma) is used, neuter pronouns are used.​

Study notes on John 14:17:

spirit: Or “active force.” The Greek term pneuʹma is in the neuter gender and therefore, neuter pronouns are used when referring to it. The Greek word has a number of meanings. All of them refer to that which is invisible to human sight and gives evidence of force in motion. (See Glossary.) In this context, “spirit” refers to God’s holy spirit, which is here called the spirit of the truth, an expression that also occurs at Joh 15:26 and 16:13, where Jesus explains that “the helper” (Joh 16:7), that is, “the spirit of the truth,” will “guide” Jesus’ disciples “into all the truth.”

Study notes on John 15:26:

That one: The Greek demonstrative pronoun e·keiʹnos is in the masculine gender and refers to the helper, which is also in the masculine gender.​

Study notes on John 16:13:

that one: Both “that one” and “he” in verses 13 and 14 refer back to “the helper” mentioned at Joh 16:7. Jesus used “the helper” (which is in the masculine gender in Greek) as a personification of the Holy Spirit, an impersonal force, which is in the neuter gender in Greek.​

link to the Study Bible of the NWT
In other words, the NWT is arguing that the reason these pronouns are in the masculine, even though they are paired with the neuter "Spirit," is because they refer back to the word "paraklétos," which is grammatically masculine. They are saying that John is not changing Greek grammar to note that the Spirit is masculine to indicate that it is a person, but that these pronouns refer to the masculine word "paraklétos."
Then they explain that the reason why God's "active force" would be called "the paraklétos," and doing things that someone would normally do, not something, such as bearing witness, testifying, hearing, etc, is because this is simply personification. They then give a list of other things in the Bible that are personified to justify the fact that the Bible does this at times.
Their end result is to uphold that the Spirit is an impersonal active force that God uses, and Jesus here reifies the Spirit and speaks of it as if it is a person doing personal things.
Objections to the Jehovah's Witnesses Response
Does their answer fly? I don't think so. First, I am not convinced that a good grammatical argument could be made that the referential pronouns are referring back to "paraklétos" and not "Spirit."
Second, while personification is a common figure of speech in the Bible, it does not justify this to be the case here, it only posits it as a possibility. The notes of their study Bible give no definitive proof of either claim thus far. How do we explain the Spirit as doing all of these things if it is merely a personification? One example they give is that of wisdom, in which it is personified in the statement, "wisdom is proved righteous by what she does." We can explain this metaphor. The results of what someone does from wisdom is the personified action. But with the Spirit, how it comforts, and how it testifies is never explained by these notes. While personification is assumed, we should have an explanation for how these personified metaphors apply in reality. In other words, if we are going to assume metaphorical language, we must have an explanation for the metaphor. Far too much is said in these passages to just assume it to be metaphorical.
Third, they argue that, "God’s spirit is often mentioned together with other impersonal forces or things, further supporting the fact that it is not a person." They argue that the Bible mentions "holy spirit and fire" or having "joy and holy spirit" this emphasizes that the Holy Spirit must not be a person. However, by this same logic, in the passage in question, the Holy Spirit would be proven to be a person. Since the Holy Spirit is mentioned as "going forth from the Father," who they admit is a person, why wouldn't this mean the Holy Spirit is a person here? What about Matthew 28:19, "the name of the Father, the Son, and the Holy Spirit?" The two things mentioned alongside the Spirit are persons, even by JWs standards, so why should we not use this line of reasoning to assert that the Spirit is a person? Even in the infamous verse in the NWT of Genesis 1:2, where God is mentioned as being with his Spirit, we should then infer that the Spirit is a person. As a side point, this would also disprove their theory on Proverbs 8:22 being about Jesus preexisting as God's wisdom and being created. Why not use the same "personification" argument here with wisdom? Why not argue that because wisdom is mentioned with other things that are not persons, such as the Holy spirit in their own listed example, we should conclude that God's wisdom is not a person in Proverbs 8?
The arguments here are circular, and I do not buy them to be accurate. It is to start with the assumption that the Holy Spirit is entirely impersonal and then to make ad hoc arguments to justify the assumption. When we read in these passages that the Holy Spirit is how the apostles will be comforted, shown truth, and will testify to them, this can not merely be a personification. How does the Spirit comfort and testify to us?
The Holy Spirit, More Than Power
The Holy Spirit is not just a force God uses, nor is it just God's power. Zechariah 4:6 says: "Then he said to me, 'This is the word of the LORD to Zerubbabel: Not by might, nor by power, but by my Spirit, says the LORD of hosts.'" Some argue that this "might" and "power" refers only to human might and power. God does not say, "Not by your power, but by my power." The contrast isn't between just human power and divine power. It is between power and God's Spirit. The Holy Spirit is God's power (Luke 1:35) but is not than simply this. The Spirit is also God's word (Psalm 33:6), God's wisdom (Proverbs 8:22-31), God's presence (Psalm 51:11), the angel of his face (Isaiah 63:9-10), God's intercessor (Romans 8:26-27), the mind of God or the communication of it (1 Corinthians 2:11), and much more. To reduce God's Spirit down to just his power is to ignore the entirety of Pneumatology and the many statements about what God's Spirit is and does. How, then, should we define the Spirit to encompass all of what the Spirit does? The Spirit is the nature of God. Compare 2 Peter 1:4, "partakers of the divine nature," with Hebrews 6:4, "partakers in the Holy Spirit." The Holy Spirit communicates everything God wishes to communicate. That is to say, every communicable attribute of God can be communicated by his Spirit. It is his very self. God is Holy, and God is Spirit (John 4:24). The Spirit of God is what he is. God is power. God is love. When we receive his power, his love, when we receive his Spirit.
The Spirit communicates the person of God to us. There is what's called the "transcendence, immanance problem" in philosophy. How can God be transcendental, residing in heaven far above us, and yet omnipresent, here with us? How is he both transcendent and immanent? God is a person, and he resides in heaven. And yet he also resides in us, and we reside in him (John 14:23, 1 John 2:24). The Spirit is how he resides in us. The Spirit of God communicates the person of God to us. His own presence resides in us. This person resides in us by his Spirit.
The Lord is the Spirit
When Jesus was raised from the dead, he received this same Spirit in full (Acts 2:33, 1 Corinthians 15:45, Colossians 2:9). In the same way God resides in heaven and resides in us, so also does the Son by the same Spirit. These are not two different spirits. The Bible says that we only know one Spirit (Ephesians 4:4). Jesus was raised from the dead by God's Spirit, and he himself became clothed in that Spirit. It became his own nature. This is what a new creation is. A man of flesh who is now Spirit. When Jesus was raised from the dead, he says that he has flesh and bone, unlike a spirit (Luke 24:39). Yet, he appears in locked rooms and in a different form (Mark 16:12). He breathes the Holy Spirit onto his apostles (John 20:22). Jesus is the same body that rose up from the tomb, the same body nailed to the cross, with the same holes in his hands and side. Yet, he has the Holy Spirit within, his own breath, his own life source. "The second Adam, Life-giving Spirit" (1 Corinthians 15:45). No longer a body of flesh with life made to be a living soul, but a body with the Spirit of immortality clothing it.
Who is the Paraklétos? Jesus Christ
In the topic passages, we are talking about the paraklétos, who we have clearly identified as the Holy Spirit (which is not a very contested claim). If we read 1 John 2:1, we find: "My little children, I am writing these things to you so that you might not sin. And if anyone should sin, we have a paraklétos with the Father, Jesus Christ the Righteous One." Jesus Christ is identified as the paraklétos "with the Father." John is talking about the risen Christ and says that he is the paraklétos. "We have (present tense verb) a paraklétos with the Father." Is Jesus, then, the Holy Spirit after resurrection? Yes. "Now the Lord is the Spirit; and where the Spirit of the Lord is, there is freedom. And we all having been unveiled in face, beholding as in a mirror the glory of the Lord, are being transformed into the same image, from glory to glory, even as from the Lord, the Spirit.... For we do not proclaim ourselves, but Christ Jesus as Lord" (2 Corinthians 3:17-18, 4:5). As plainly as it can be, the Lord is Jesus, and Jesus is the Spirit. How many spirits are there? "One Spirit" (Ephesians 4:4). Jesus Christ has been made the Holy Spirit now that he has been resurrected. So, too, will we be "who are being conformed to the same image."
The Holy Spirit "Was" Another
The Spirit of God, the Spirit of Christ, the Spirit of the Lord, the Holy Spirit, all of these terms refer to one and the same Spirit after Jesus' resurrection. A common objection raised is that the Holy Spirit is something that comes down upon Jesus at his baptism. "I saw the Spirit descend and remain upon him" (John 1:32), and other objections which show a distinction between Jesus and the Spirit. This is not to the point. We, now, receive the Spirit as a down-payment (2 Corinthians 1:21-22, Ephesians 1:14). You put a deposit on something that you do not yet own but have some partial claim to. The Spirit is granted to us as a partial reward for what is to come at resurrection and glorification. The Spirit that we have now is not ours. This is the same for Jesus in his ministry. God gave Jesus the Spirit as a deposit for what he would receive in full at resurrection. The Holy Spirit becomes the Spirit of Christ only after resurrection. To argue that the Spirit is someone or something else during Christ's ministry does not change the facts presented here. Jesus becomes the Spirit. That is the resurrection body Paul speaks of at length in 1 Corinthians 15 (verse 12 ff). A body of glory by the Spirit of the Lord of glory. This is why we are the body of Christ. Because Christ has been raised in a body of Holy Spirit, and when we partake in that Spirit now, which is his body, we become his body. This is truly what Jesus means when we ask us to eat his body, his flesh, and drink the blood of his life. What has the body of Jesus become? Life-giving Spirit.
The Holy Spirit, a Person? Who?
John 14:23 says: "If anyone loves Me, he will keep My word, and My Father will love him, and we will come to him and will make a home with him." This is just before and after he has introduced the paraklétos to us. When we receive the Holy Spirit, which is the Spirit of the Father and will be the Spirit of the Son, then both the Father and Son are in us through that Spirit in us. One Spirit in us, the presence of both of these persons. 1 John 2:27 says: "And you, the anointing that you received from Him abides in you, and you have no need that anyone should teach you. But just as the same anointing teaches you concerning all things and is true and is no lie, and just as it has taught you, you shall abide in Him." What is the anointing we receive? Is it not the anointing of the Holy Spirit? When we are anointed and receive the Spirit, then we abide in Him, and he abides in us.
When people argue about the Holy Spirit being a person in John 14-16, the argument does not prove the Trinity to be true. The question is, "Who is the person of the Holy Spirit?" There is no reason to assume that the Holy Spirit is another person, not the Father or the Son. When "he" abides in us, the Spirit of truth, in these verses, is the resurrected son. He, the risen Lord, will be in us, with us, and testifying to us, comforting us. This is not personification of something. The personal presence of Christ is in us. He is immanent. He is with us, as our paraklétos from the Father.
Argument 2, "Another" Paraklétos
"And I will ask the Father, and He will give you another Helper." Jesus says that the Father will send another. How, then, can I say that this is Jesus? Because the resurrected Jesus is another helper, a different helper than the Jesus in his ministry. This is what they did not and could not yet understand. Paul refers to this resurrected Jesus in the same way. Romans 7:4, "Likewise, my brothers, you also have been put to death to the Law through the body of Christ, for you to belong to another, to the One having been raised out from the dead, so that we should bear fruit to God." We died in Christ, to belong to another in his resurrection. In this context, Paul is talking about the union of Israel to the old law, and he likens this covenant to a marriage covenant. At the death of one party, the covenant is broken. "'Til death do we part." After death, the covenant is broken. There is no law holding the marriage together. Likewise, Israel died to the law when they died together with Jesus in their baptism into his death. Water baptism. We die to ourselves, we die to the flesh, which the law governs over, and we are raised in the Spirit. Spirit baptism. We receive the Spirit of another. The risen Jesus. Have you ever wondered why Acts 13:30-33 says that God had to beget Jesus when he was raised from the dead? Have you ever wondered why Colossians 1:18 and Revelation 1:5 call Jesus the firstborn from among the dead?
Paul also says this in 2 Corinthians 5:16-17: "Therefore from now, we regard no one according to the flesh. Even though we have regarded Christ according to flesh, yet now we regard Him thus no longer. Therefore if anyone is in Christ, he is a new creation. The old things have passed away; behold, the new has come into being." The Jesus that went to the cross to die was the first comforter. The comforter in the flesh. But this flesh was nailed to cross, and what rose from the grave was another comforter. A new creation. This is why we are also a new creation when we are "in Christ," by dying with him in baptism and raising with him in the same Spirit that raised him from the dead.
"I will send another paraklétos. We have a paraklétos with the Father, Jesus Christ." Another. The resurrected Jesus. A new man, a new body, begotten of God again, life-giving Spirit. Jesus is saying that he will send the Spirit of Christ to us. And when we receive this Spirit of Jesus and the Father, they are abiding in us, at home in us, and we abide in the them in that same Spirit. "And if I go and prepare a place for you, I am coming again and will receive you to Myself, that where I am, you may be also. And you know the way to the place I am going." Where did Jesus go? Was he not ascended to heaven? He isn't talking about going to heaven when you die. He's talking about where you will reside when you receive his Spirit. "Seated with Christ in the heavenly places" (Ephesians 2:6). This is now for those of us who have been filled with the Spirit, and heaven has been opened to us (see Acts 7:55-56). Notice that Paul uses the aorist tense, which is a past tense verb in this verse. God has already, past tense, seated us with Christ in the heavenly places. Paul goes on in verses 8-10 to explain that his audience has already received forgiveness and grace, and they have already been created in Christ for good works. That is to say, they have already received this Spirit. they are seated with Christ already in heaven. Not when they die, not after resurrection, but now. "I will not leave you as orphans; I am coming to you" (John 14:18). He says this just after he speaks of the paraklétos coming to comfort us. Jesus isn't talking about coming back at his return. This isn't comforting to them. He still has not returned. He's talking about coming back in the Spirit.
John 14:16-17, 26 Explained
John 14:16: "And I will ask the Father, and He will give you another Helper, that He may be with you to the age—."
Jesus will ask the Father on our behalf as mediator (1 Timothy 2:5), and he will give us another helper. Not the helper they had in the flesh, a new helper in the Spirit. The risen Christ. And this Spirit of Christ will be in us until the end of the age. The Church age. That is until his return.
John 14:17: "the Spirit of truth, whom the world is not able to receive, because it does not see Him nor know. But you know Him, for He abides with you, and He will be in you."
The Spirit of truth, the Holy Spirit, which guides us into all truth. The world does not receive the Spirit of Christ. They have the Spirit of the world. They do not know or see the Spirit we have received. They do not understand or faith. But the apostles know him, the Spirit of truth, because they see the Spirit in Jesus while he is alive. They will have that same Spiritual deposit when they receive him.
John 14:26: "But the Helper, the Holy Spirit, whom the Father will send in My name, He will teach you all things and will bring to your remembrance all things that I have said to you."
The Father will send in the name or authority of Christ. God will have given Jesus all authority (Matthew 28:18). We receive the Spirit in the name of Jesus. He is our way to the Father. The Spirit will teach us all truth, so that we have no need anyone should teach us (1 John 2:27).
John 15:26 Explained
John 15:26: "When the Helper comes, whom I will send to you from the Father, the Spirit of truth who goes forth from the Father, He will bear witness concerning Me."
The Spirit goes out from the Father. It is essentially part of him, which goes forth. But this part of him is given to Jesus, who participates in the shared Spirit. This is what makes us a family. We will all share in what the Father is. The Spirit of God is sent from the Father through Jesus, and that Spirit will bear witness concerning Christ. This means that when we receive that Spirit, we show and display the mind and nature of Christ, and Christ is formed among us. "We will be like him." This is not about a distinct person proceeding forth from the Father's essence as a new and separate center of self-consciousness. The consciousness and personhood of the Spirit are the same consciousness, the same person as he who sends it. If the Father sends his Spirit, the Father is in us. If the Spirit proceeds from Jesus, then Jesus is in us. Since the Spirit becomes a shared Spirit that both are sending, then both are in us by this Spirit. This is why Jesus says that he will send the Spirit from the Father. His Spirit is that which he received from the Father (Acts 2:33), and they both are present in the same Spirit. This is why the Holy Spirit is sometimes very vague in the NT as to which person sends the Spirit. Because it is very much a blended act. Romans 8:9: "You, however, are not in the flesh but in the Spirit, if in fact the Spirit of God dwells in you. Anyone who does not have the Spirit of Christ does not belong to him." The Spirit, the Spirit of God, and the Spirit of Christ are all interchangeably terms here. All are the same thing.
John 16:7, 13-14 Explained
John 16:7: "But I tell you the truth, it is profitable for you that I should go away; for unless I go away the Helper will not come to you; but if I go, I will send Him to you."
If Jesus does not die on the cross, the Spirit can not be poured out to us. Why? Because we can't be a clean and holy temple for the presence of God to reside in if we do not become sinless by dying to our flesh in Christ. If Jesus goes to the Father, he will send the Spirit to us. Because Jesus does not receive the Spirit in a way that he can pour it out upon us unless the Father elevates and raises him. Jesus must be changed (1 Corinthians 15:51).
John 16:13-14: "But when He the, Spirit of truth, shall come, He will guide you into all the truth. For He will not speak from Himself, but whatever He may hear, He will speak. And He will declare to you the things coming. He will glorify Me, for He will take from that which is Mine and will disclose it to you."
The Spirit guides us, individually, into all truth because each of us individually receives this Spirit personally when we are anointed. "He will not speak from himself, but whatever he may hear, he will speak." The Spirit does not possess a separate consciousness from the Father or Son. The Spirit says nothing from himself, the one speaking in the Spirit is the one who sends the Spirit. What Jesus communicates through his Spirit, this is what we hear. But this paraklétos is the risen Christ. He, the resurrected Jesus, does not speak from himself. He speaks what the Father has told him. "A man who told you the truth I heard from God." Hebrews 1:2 says that in these last days (a reference to the resurrected Christ), God has now spoken to us in a Son. The Son does not speak from himself. He speaks only what he has heard from the Father.
Applicable and Explanatory Context
Other scriptures from this discourse from Jesus illustrate his points.
John 14:2-4: "In My Father’s house there are many mansions. And if not so, would I have told you that I go to prepare a place for you? And if I go and prepare a place for you, I am coming again and will receive you to Myself, that where I am, you may be also. And you know the way to the place I am going."
In my Father's house are many mansions. Places of residence in the Father. Receiving the Spirit of Christ is not just about the Father and Jesus being in us, but about us also being in them. Being in them where they are. Seated at God's right hand in heaven. "Seated in the heavenly places."
John 14:11-12: "Believe Me that I am in the Father, and the Father is in Me; but if not, believe because of the works themselves. Truly, truly, I say to you, the one believing in Me, the works that I do, also he will do. And he will do greater of these because I am going to the Father. "
We should believe that the Father is in Jesus by his Spirit because of the works that the Father does through Jesus (Acts 2:22). The one believing in Jesus will do "the greater of these works" (not "greater than these). The verse literally says, "the [one] believing in me, the works that I do he also will do and greater of these will he do because I go to the Father." He's talking about us doing the works he did and the greatest of those works. The greatest work Jesus did was love his neighbour and share the gospel. These are the works we are to do "because I am going to the Father." We do the works of God too because we are to receive the Spirit of God just as Jesus did. This is how Jesus demonstrated perfect love. This is how Jesus was guided into the truth of the gospel. Because he received the Spirit of God, and so also will we.
John 14:20: "In that day you will know that I am in My Father, and you in Me, and I in you."
In what day? The day we receive the Spirit of life. We will know Jesus is in the Father because we will experience what that is like. For those of us who have received this Spirit, we know that we are in God, God is in us, and we are in Christ, and he is in us. "In that day," the day you receive the Spirit. We will understand how the Father in him did the works because they will be in us doing their work as well.
John 14:21: "The one having My commandments and keeping them, he is the one loving Me. Now the one loving Me will be loved by My Father. And I will love him, and will show Myself to him."
"I will show myself to him." How? As the paraklétos. Heaven is opened. "I know a man in Christ, fourteen years ago—whether in the body, I do not know, or out of the body, I do not know; God knows—such a man, having been caught up to the third heaven. And I know such a man—whether in the body or out of the body, I do not know; God knows— that he was caught up into Paradise, and he heard inexpressible words, not being permitted to man to speak." (2 Corinthians 12:2-4)
John 14:23-24: "If anyone loves Me, he will keep My word, and My Father will love him, and we will come to him and will make a home with him. The one not loving Me does not keep My words. And the word that you hear is not Mine, but that of the Father having sent Me."
"We will make our home with him." Think back to, "in my Father's house are many abodes." We receive them in us when we receive their Spirit. The words we hear are that which he received from the Father. "He will not speak from Himself, but whatever He may hear, He will speak." Jesus will teach us the truth from God as the word of God. "In these last days, God has spoken to us in a Son."
John 14:27: "Peace I leave with you; My peace I give to you. Not as the world gives do I give to you. Let not your heart be troubled, nor let it fear."
Jesus, here, is our comforter, leaving with peace. Jesus will give us peace once again when he returns to us in the Spirit. As another comforter.
John 14:28: "You heard that I said to you, ‘I am going away and I am coming to you.’ If you loved Me, you would have rejoiced that I am going to the Father, because the Father is greater than I."
Jesus is going away through death to ascend to the Father. He is coming back in the Spirit to us. Jesus knows his apostles will be sad at his death and his ascension in losing him. But this is how Jesus comforts them. They should rejoice because he is going to come back again to comfort them. "The Father is greater than I." His reason for mentioning this is because the way in which he can comfort and strengthen them in the Spirit he will send and receive from the Father is greater than the way he can comfort them now. They should rejoice at Jesus' leaving them. Not because they want to see him go, but because they will understand that he will come back to them in the Spirit once he does. He must ascend to the Father to receive his Spirit and inheritance to be able to pour out that blessing on us.
John 15:4: "Abide in Me, and I in you. As the branch is not able to bear fruit of itself unless it abides in the vine, so neither you, unless you abide in Me."
They can abide in Jesus by the Spirit he will pour out upon them.
John 16:16: "A little while and you behold Me no longer; and again a little while and you will see Me."
You will see me. Not someone else named the Spirit of truth, but you will see me. Jesus. We will see him where he is in heaven when we receive him to ourselves in the Spirit.
John 16:19-22: Jesus knew that they were desiring to ask Him, and He said to them, “Do you inquire among one another concerning this, that I said, ‘A little while and you do not behold Me, and again a little while and you will see Me’? Truly, truly, I say to you, that you will weep and will lament, but the world will rejoice. You will be grieved, but your grief will turn to joy. The woman has pain when she is giving birth, because her hour has come; but when she brings forth the child, she remembers the tribulation no longer, on account of the joy that a man has been born into the world. Therefore, you also indeed have grief now; but I will see you again, and your heart will rejoice, and no one will take your joy from you."
Their pain will turn to joy when they see him again. He will come back to them as their comforter. They will be grieved when Jesus dies, just as a woman who has a child is in pain during the child birth. But after the pain comes relief and reward. After losing him, they will receive him and see him again, in the Spirit. "No one will take your joy from you." Even when Jesus ascends, they will still rejoice because they have not lost him. They still have him by the Spirit.
John 16:33: "I have spoken these things to you so that in Me you may have peace. In the world, you have tribulation. But take courage; I have overcome the world."
Summary
The paraklétos is Jesus, who is the Holy Spirit in resurrection. When he ascends to the Father, he receives his inheritance to pour this Spirit out upon us. "Therefore having been exalted at the right hand of God, and having received the promise of the Holy Spirit from the Father, He has poured out this which you are both seeing and hearing" (Acts 2:33). This is when the Spirit is poured out on Pentecost. Jesus pours out the Spirit from God because he has received his promised reward. "We have an advocate with the Father, Jesus Christ the Righteous One" (1 John 2:1). Jesus is going to be raised as another. A new creation. In doing so, he will grant us the Spirit he has received in full, yet we only now receive as a deposit of what is to come. We will receive this same Spirit in full when we are changed and raised up to glory. "When he, the Spirit of truth shall come, he will guide you into all truth." That is the Spirit of Christ. The personal presence of Jesus himself.

A lot of people say that the stubby is a weak weapon compared to the Warthog. However, I think that the warthog is weaker than the stubby, in particular with single target damage. How so? I can prove this...with MATH! Done in a two part post, this one covering damage, another one later covering time to kill a target.
Builds used for this comparison (Both aimed for single target damage)
Warthog- 2-2-3-2-2 with Cycle Overload
Stubby- 1-1-1-1-1 with EM Refire Booster
Breakpoints (To compare damage and time to kill)
1125 (Hazard 5 4-player praetorian)
1200 (5.5 or last stage EDD praetorian)
-Praetorians are used as they are the most common tanky enemy in the game. Also, you will see why I listed the EDD health breakpoint.
Comparisons: Damage (Both assume a clean shot on their abdomen)
Warthog total damage - 900 damage per mag (10 pellets x 9 damage per pellet x 10 shots per mag). Cannot kill a praetorian in a single mag dump.
Stubby - 1170 (15 damage x 60 shot per mag x 1.3 weak point damage boost). Can kill a praetorian in a single mag dump
-Ok, what about a power attack?
Warthog and power attack total damage - 1020 (10 pellets x 9 damage per pellet x 10 shots per mag + 120 power attack damage). Still cannot kill a praetorian.
-Ok, what if we took the tier 2 power attack damage boost?
Warthog and power attack and power attack boost - 1140 (10 pellets x 9 damage per pellet x 10 shots per mag + 240 power attack damage). Can kill a praetorian.
Results
So with a max damage warthog and a damage boosted power attack, it can kill a praetorian.....when a max damage stubby can do it without a power attack, let alone a powered boosted one. Not only that, The warthog still cannot kill an EDD praetorian in a single mag dump, even with a boost power attack (1140 < 1200), whereas a stubby can kill it with a mag dump and a power attack. An there is one more reason why stubby has greater damage....
The Electric DoT effect, which does 3 damage per tick, ticking once every .25 seconds, for 3 seconds, for a total of 48 damage, meaning that one proc of the electric DoT (and the stubby has a 25% chance per bullet, out of 60 bullets in this case) plus the total magazine damage can kill a max health EDD praetorian without a power attack or any other source of damage. And the more times it procs, the less precise at hitting their abdomen you have to be.
Yeah, you may say "but it might be soften up by teammates, or environmental sources, or other weapons." But the end result is clear: The warthog requires another source of damage in order to reach this breakpoint, whereas the Stubby pretty much Never requires another source of damage to do its job, and in the caves of Hoxxes, you can't rely on having another source to help you.
Part 2: Time to Kill