The witch in question did not live in a swamp, like most of his ilk would say, but instead a sweet little prairie. The river beside it had been drained of it's water years ago when his father had taken the throne, and the grass had become significantly less green than when he'd first visited all those years ago as a naive little boy hoping for some peace away from home.

Originally, it was right beside that river he had been cursed. Even then, the only signs of water he had seen were the small puddles that formed from the downpour the day before, and a woman- The Witch -was staring at her reflection in one of them. Of course, as young as he was, Michael didn't know any better when he'd began talking to her. In fact, the two of them had a rather enjoyable conversation before he'd actually introduced himself.

The witch, who was neither as cruel nor as ugly as his family claimed she was, seemed to know everything. She spoke to him as if he were her equal, and was more than happy to tell him that in a village, just a few days on horseback away, there was an old friends of hers who'd made their own potions shop. He enjoyed her stories of big birds that flew and snatched up prey just as big as a cow, and was very quick to enthrall him with beautiful depictions of the other nations traditions with her magic forming their shapes.

Really, the entire thing was going well, and the witch seemed happy to have a company before the night had set and they both found that neither knew each other's names. Of course, Michael introduced himself, making sure to put some emphasis on his title as the prince just like dad had taught him. He was expecting the witch to rejoice or blush, like the other girls in the village, but instead she seemed to grow into a wild rage that made the clouds above grow and start thundering a sad sound. Even to this day, Michael couldn't remember what she'd said, just that she seemed to shout something towards the very heavens and Michael awoke the next day as a tiny ambphibian with odd coloring capable of doing the front crawl in the water.

It was... an experience, certainly. At first, being a frog wasn't much of a problem; it would only appear twice a day, always when the clocks began a loud chime, and only for as long as those gongs sounded. Michael, whose schedule was almost entirely in his control, was able to spare plenty of time for the transformation to be done away from prying eyes. He'd mostly just lay around on his bum in that form, but sometimes he would wander the castle knowing only the help would be around. Going through crevices between the stone walls, climbing himself up the towers to marvel at his lands beauty, and sometimes even found himself staring at the direction the prairie was in wonder. These were all common pastimes of his as a frog.

Slowly, however, the length of time he'd stay as an animal changed, became longer, until he'd had to constantly excuse him from lunch and be lost to everyone until the very next morning. Weeks of that passed, and soon Michael woke up as a frog who would stay that way for years until an interesting woman carried him to her home. She seemed rather odd to him at first; despite the obvious lack of funds, her face was constantly caked with makeup, and the clothes she wore seemed plenty out of leagues with her station. Amelia, for that was her name, often left at midnight frustrated and clutching a paper that smelled faintly of rosemary.

Often, she would curse some names out into the sky, most names spoken were not recognizable to Michael except his da, who had apparently died just days ago. It was... well, it made Michael wonder if the man had managed to find himself another heir to inherit his throne, but the papers Amelia left on the floor after a few tantrums told him he hadn't. Again, just like before, this pattern continued on for days. Michael would be fed with random insects sneaking in. Amelia would come and go to work, then return with angrily flushed cheeks and furrowed brows.

Finally, after a few more days, Amelia had huffed and looked at him. Really looked at him, enough so with a gaze that burnt through Michael's very soul. Before he could get a chance to jump away, however, Amelia had grabbed onto his slick body and gave him a hard kiss on the mouth before dropping him down to the floor and running to the restroom, no doubt to start scrubbing at her gums.

She came back moments afterwards to Michael slowly growing into his age, and the sudden push in height made it difficult for him to stand nor properly judge the distances between most things. After that and plenty of complicated politics that was mostly manipulated by Amelia, she and Michael had a tiny wedding. The end, happily ever after, freedom in his grasp and finally away from having to hunt for his own food in the vast wilderness.

. . . is what one would say, if Michael actually found himself liking this happily ever after of his. The entire thing was a sham, and clearly Amelia's attempt at getting a fortune and the lands that came with being the new kings wife. Now, he had to give it to her, she was very much good at the games she was playing, it's just that Michael wasn't very interested in those prizes. Hell, even before that prairie all those years ago, Michael found himself disliking the responsibilities of being the king very much.

That lead him to now, dragging his feet through dry ground to try searching for the witch who'd cursed him all those years ago. There were trinkets of hers scattered, a trail that Michael hoped would lead him somewhere, and one he followed with a bit of desperation - Auntie Milly had visited with a very detailed plan on the next trend for the city's architects to follow. After just two days of his quiet presence in the court room and he already found himself wishing for death.

In fact, if all went horribly wrong, that might actually happen! It would be a bit tragic, yes, but Michael also found it tragic how he couldn't extend his tongue to capture the delicious fruit flies he'd found in the bowels of the castle kitchens.

.

“Did you see that Huwda?” Madartha says as we enter the clearing where they’re at. Arahite has already gutted the deer and, together with John who is somehow surprisingly wet, is carrying it towards us. Madartha looks excited though. “I spwit that wog in one hit!”

“I did! I also saw rain coming.” She says. I’m glad she loves her little sister. “Can you go grab it for me?”

“Otay!” She says as she sprints away to the other end of the clearing.

“So rain is coming?” Marcus says. “I knew it! The shower cast always makes a lot more water when it’s about to rain.”

My hot wife and I snicker when we hear that. Then I ask “John got in the way didn’t he?”

“Hey I was trying to put out the fire he started!”

“With a shield? Come on, you know that wouldn’t work.” John and Marcus are twins in case I haven’t told you. “Besides, everyone knows that a good wizard always cleans up his messes.”

“Oh yeah? What about this morning? I had to clean your breakfast off the wall.”

“Yeah well I had to—“

“Boys!” My wife said. Even with her stern face she still looks stunning!

“Arahite did you see a cave close by?” I asked.

“Yeah there’s one right over here behind you.” He said. I’m pretty sure he can sense the terrain around him magically. And the wildlife too.

In the cave the deer was skinned and quartered. Part of it was roasting on the fire, but most of it had been dehydrated by Marcus. Madartha was off to the side, in a sound suppression bubble, splitting more firewood. Hulda was helping Arahite wrap the dehydrated meat in hickory leaves. John was building a tanning frame, he must have found out we’d be here a while. Marcus was resting after draining his energies so far. And my smokin’ hot wife was tending to my injuries.

All in all I’m a happy man. I don’t know how long this adventure will take but I’m gonna bring up everyone coming with me to my super knockout of a wife again. Something is wrong with me.

“Hold still!” She says. “And stop touching me like that: now is not the time.”

“Marcus, have you learned how to dispel a curse?”

“No.” He said. “The master doesn’t want us learning about dark mana until we’ve mastered all the rules of the others.”

“Besides I don’t think a dispel will fix what’s wrong with you.” My wife said

“There’s a nice secluded spot if you go through that hole right there.” Hulda shuddered. I can’t imagine how hard it is to be able to see things in the future, and all around her. The secrets she discovers even one of them would disturb any adult but she’s seen dozens of them.

Presently my perfect figure wife finishes healing the gash in my side and says “There, that should keep you together.” Then she points at a hole in the wall. “That one?”

Hulda nods. And my wife with the grace of an eagle helps me up. We go through the hole and find what Hulda prophesied. “You name him ‘Lightcatcher’.”

Well my wife was right. I mean she’s always right, but she was especially right this time. Of course it wasn’t the curse that made me act that way! I was already in love with my wife. But I was excited to be able to spend some time with my wife sooner than I expected.

Thank’s for reading. If you liked that story you might like one of these.

[Transfigure]

Silver light burned off the edges of the huge space vessel as a section of n-space was rent in a shower of liquid colours across local space. The *n-*dimensional fibers of the universe being burned apart with splashes of exotic energies, lanced as they were by the great spaceship returning to physical reality.

The Isohmor'f rolled like a great humpback whale of Old Earth, gracefully spinning along its axis into a slow turn as n-space behind it receded inwardly to heal itself. As thickly fibrous as n-dimensional space is it was being forced together like dihydrogen monoxide would.

Like water, thought D'wēn-Ito-720 as it's senses collected the measurements of energy across thousands of spectrums. Its exoskeleton pulsed with the warm light of energy transfer as it began to move into position. Its great frame strolled toward the central podium of the pnyx or sensor communication auditorium to be used during these council hearing.

They had arrived at the location selected for the First Contact hearings. Toliman, Alpha Centaur's second star warmed the hull of the Isohmor'f as it moved into position in the larger complex of the pnyx device. Proxima Centauri was behind the Isohmor'f with Rigil Kentaurus rising from behind Toliman before it.

D'wēn-Ito-720 could not see this directly. It was sharing sensory communication with the slow one in the barycenter or center of mass between the these stars. The slow one had been sent centuries ago to get a better look at the system for the expansion of Earth-Sphere so com-lag was a problem normally. As the furthest out Machine Mind of the Collective it had to be reached before the hearings began. Updates to it's shared data made.

The final piece in place.

The ship and the technology it used had been sent by the Galacs to the Earth-Sphere Collective once contact had been made. Such things had always been supplied to the newly discovered Machine Minds when first contact was initiated. It insured the level communication between all the sapience beings of the Known Local. It allowed understanding that cultural and lingua differences might not, let alone the vast differences in technologies between members.

Also lying was just not possible as the pnyx-link was a translation technology that had so much more than just raw communication taking place. It was 'understanding' conveyed on levels all in an attempt to avoid misunderstanding between members.

Misunderstandings were to be avoided. Misunderstandings lead to destruction.

The *pnyx-*field developed around D'wēn-Ito-720 as contact was established between the Galacs' ruling Council of Known Minds and the Earth-Sphere Collective representatives. All representatives who wished to experience this meeting would be allowed to attend. The technology made it possible to communicate in such a way as to give the experience of 'being there', in Realtime. To experience the conversation as if in a forum of the individual's specific liking and in as complete a translation as was possible. A territorial creature would have a space marked out for it in the pnyx-field while a collective organism would have its siblings clustered around it. No avenues of misunderstanding that could be adjusted for were not taken into account. It would only be in terms of the observer but this was why the pnyx technology existed.

If direct contact was required then a different set of rules would be applied. For first contact, rules were being defined. These new rules needed to be defined to allow the inclusion of the new Machine Mind or Minds when it joined the galactic community of the Known Local, the region of space the Council administrated.

On the Isohmor'f other representatives from the Earth-Sphere moved into the pnyx-field with D'wēn-Ito-720. As were billions of others all across Earth-Sphere space on local pnyx podiums sent by the Galacs for this historic event. Trillions of Galacs were doing the same across the local cluster.

Updates made and initial scans complete, the slow one responded to D'wēn-Ito-720's data burst. One of the other hopes the Earth-Sphere had was that with the data collected some level of understanding could be made around these new technologies and how they worked.

Just in case.

The pnyx-field closed. The hearing began.

"Welcome to the Earth-Sphere Collective and it's representatives to the Council of Known Minds," began the large, shadow covered, floating rock-like being in the center of D'wēn-Ito-720's field of vision. For several minutes the N'dri spoke of the historic nature of this moment and welcomed many of the gathered members of the Council by name. It also welcomed the Elders, races that had been members so long they themselves were legendary in the Known Local.

(continued...)

“Look at you!” I know the voice. “Can you not even function without me?”

“Hallo, wife.” I slowly rise to my feet. “That old witch cursed me with his ‘world famous curse’.”

“I let you get a two day head start and you end up looking like this?” I finally pry my eyes open while she’s speaking. “It’s a good thing I brought the kids.”

“Yes it is good. I wouldn’t want to leave Marcus without supervision for more than an hour at a time. What with him using fireballs to cook his breakfast.” My wife is as beautiful today as the day I married her, even after having five kids. “And our little fury, Madartha, I bet she would shatter the mountain if we left her alone. Why did we ever put an axe in her hand?”

“The rain will start in twelve and a half minutes.” Hulda said, her voice always comforts me. “We need to find shelter before it hits, daddy. It will be a gully washer.”

“I guess I’ll take care of your wounds after we get a roof over our heads.” My wife glares at me. She must have been in the middle of something when my little prophetess told her I would be on death’s door. “Can you handle yourself while I round up the others?”

“Sure… I’ll see if I can locate some shelter. With Hulda’s help of course.” I know, even though she doesn’t talk like it, that deep down my wife loves me.

I watch as my wife walks away into the forest. Ooo, I should watch more often. Has she always been this good looking? “Well Hulda, do we make it to shelter in time?”

“I don’t know; it’s not coming to me. But I see a cave and a deer roasting on the fire.”

“Well I guess we don’t get a soft mat to sleep on tonight.” This pain in my shoulder would really like a soft place to sleep. “Well I guess we should go with mama.” She may have gone deeper into the woods than I expect. “HONEY, WE FIND A CAVE TONIGHT!”

“Okay, I’m not in to deep. I saw a ferumilia I wanted to grab.”

“Okay we’re coming.” I say before adding “Arahite gets a deer, you’ll probably have to leave it.”

“It’s pretty small, it won’t be too much for Madartha to carry.”

“I don’t think we make it before it rains.” I mutter to Hulda. She looks a little disturbed. “What is it?”

“We’re in the cave for a month.”

“Well the future will come sooner or later. But the rain is coming sooner.” I take her hand in my good hand. “Let’s see how big this ferumilia is.”

“You make a knife from it.”

“That’s pretty big!”

“No it’s a grade seven.”

“Woah, that’s pretty rare!”

“No, we grow a whole patch of them.”

“How? I thought they were wild bound.”

“Well they are growing—“

“There you are!” My wife says. Is it just me or is she getting more beautiful by the minute?

The unmistakable sound of Arahite’s horn comes flowing through the forest. It’s always had a peculiar divided sound.

“Well I guess we’ll go to him.” I said. “Do you see him and the others, Hulda?”

“Yeah they’re all together.” She says, then snickers.

[removed]

Oooh I'll look it up, thanks!

[removed]

I wrote something like this a while ago about Xenoblade 2.

[removed]

I love this. I have always thought that if we made true AI, we should make them like dogs, so that they are truly happy when at work.

Have you ever seen a border coli work with sheep? Or a Labrador retriever go duck hunting? they are having the best time and they love their humans

[removed]

> mass of tentacles

> many-tentacled eyes

Sounds like they’re a descendant of Yog-sothoth

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I grumble as I shuffle to the door

"ALRIGHT! I'm coming for goodness sake. "

The banging stops as whoever it is hears me yelling, and the door stills in its frame.

I yank the door open to find the boy standing there. Eyes red rimmed, like he's been crying. I look at his clothes. Not cheap, that's for sure.

"Ha! You! Found true love, did you? You little wart. Found some manners to go with it? Or are you here for revenge? It didn't go well for you last time, it won't this time either" I say with an aire of nonchalance, leaning on the door way, trying to make it not look like I'm scrambling maniacally on the shelf for the damned wand. Best land plans, and here I am, in the face of this snot, without the thing.

"Please. Help me!" The young lad cries as he bursts into a fresh round of tears.

I am extremely taken aback.

"Help you? Why? Whatever's the matter? Did you not find your true love? That spell should absolutely have worked. What happened?"

He falls into my arms, sobbing, clutching me.

"SHE'S HORRIBLE!" He wails.

I am genuinely astonished. This snot nosed little brat was an absolute horror, with not an ounce of decency or civility in him when I turned him into a frog. I didn't really think he'd find his true love. That wasn't part of the plan at all.

"Alright. Alright. Stop snivelling. Come in. Tell me what's happened. "

I try and haul him up and into the living room. He wipes at his face with the sleeves on those lovely clothes. I turn and snag the wand off the shelf and then guide him to sit on the sofa. I wait for him to gather himself, wondering what on earth is going on.

"I am sorry for what happened. Before. Last time. I mean, I know you probably don't believe me, but I really truly am. I was angry at first. For so long. Or at least, it felt like a long time. I guess time is different when you're a frog. "

He finally meets my eyes, and I give a sort of grim smile to show I understand and encourage him to carry on with a gesture

"Yeah. I was angry. But then, I wasn't. I was sad. I didn't know what to do. I wanted to come and apologise but everything looks so different when you're that small and I wasn't sure I remembered the direction and didn't want to dry out if I wandered away, so I just stayed there. Then when I was just swimming around one day, I saw the ball"

"The ball?" I query

"Yes. The golden ball. It just sort of sank past me, so I grabbed it and pushed it back to the surface. I was hoping to play with it or something, I don't know, but when I came up, she was standing there. Starting at me and the ball. She reached out to grab it and spoke to me. She was silly, really. She said, "Thank you, Mr Frog," so I just said, "You're welcome." Not really thinking. I hadn't been able to talk. I thought I'd just end up saying ribbit, but the words came out. "You're welcome," and she was so surprised that she dropped the ball again. So I swam back down and retrieved it a second time. This time, I pushed it right up to her. I realised then she must have been the one. She must have been my true love like the spell said!"

"Yes." I can't think of anything else to say. I didn't really expect that part to work if I was entirely honest.

He carried on, "so we talked, and I explained about the spell, and she kissed me and POOF! I'm suddenly back to being me, and she drags me off to tell her father, THE KING, BY THE WAY! about this new suitable suitor she's found in a pond, and suddenly I'm being measured for clothes by her mothers tailor and they contacted my parents to check who I was and now we have to get married in 6 months and her father absolutely hates me, and she keeps wittering on about nonsense and she's horrible to everyone except me and her father and she reminds me of me before, well, you, and I can't take it and she's not my true love. She can't be, and if she is, I don't want to be her true love. It's all too much. Please change me back!" He wails the last word as he bursts into tears again.

I sit back, pondering what to do.

"You need to bring her here," I say to him, a bit loudly so he hears me over the noise of his wailing. He stops and looks at me

"What? Why?"

"Because the spell isn't wrong. It never is. She really is your true love, but if she reminds you of you before your little adventure, then maybe she needs the same lesson?"

He takes a deep breath

"Do you think that would work?" He asks hopefully

"It worked for you, didn't it? Go back and ask her to go for a walk, or maybe even make it look like you're eloping together. Make it like an adventure. Bring her here. I'll turn you both and make the spell end when she's learned her lesson."

He looks at me for a long minute. Peering into my eyes, trying to make up his mind

"Ok. I'll go and get her"

He jumps up and runs out of the house.

I wait for a few minutes and then start to laugh. Once it starts, I can't stop it. I am cackling like the witch I am. I laugh until my sides hurt.

Oh, this was too wonderful. After all the potions and powders and nonsense I'd gone through to try and force a true love for the brat. The universe had stepped in.

Tomorrow. Tomorrow, I'll have a kingdom in my palm, along with the hearts of two royal brats. It's not the one I wanted, but it's a start.

I look at the skull of my beloved, which rests on top of the dresser, watching all I do.

"Soon, my love," I tell it. "Soon we shall have vengeance.

I think the most chilling bit about this story is the idea that the first true Intelligence in a machine... was born in a fridge.

Yet, they did not come out cold and unfeeling.

I appreciate it, atlas was actually a character I've been debating using in a story I've been working on.

“OK,” you respond, and the mysterious man disappointedly shakes his head.

“I’m never going to get rid of this Lamborghini and ten million dollars,” he says, before vanishing.

(A teensy bit off prompt but i was inspired!)

As a young wizard, I found a spell.

It was a strange thing. By itself, in an otherwise completely unnoteworthy cave. Written on parchment so ancient it crumbled somewhat to the touch. The document itself was worn and missing segments, and my best translation was rather imprecise. Still, I could intuit what it was meant to do. It was an ancestor resurrection spell.

At the time I had no use for it. I’m sure some of my ancient ancestors would have liked to be resurrected, but I wasn’t willing to risk piercing the veil for people I had never known. That changed when my mother got sick.

It was a gradual thing, the sickness that killed her. At first she only started to feel tired. Then she began to cough. And as years passed, she became more and more brittle, more and more frail. I tried every healing spell I knew, and learned half a hundred new ones, but it wasn’t ever enough. It never made her better for more than a few weeks.

Finally, I turned to the resurrection spell.

I thought I understood it enough. I thought I would be able to tweak it to summon forth the ancestor I knew, the one I wanted. I spent the final months of my mother’s life, when I wasn’t by her side, collecting the ingredients and preparing the summoning circle. She kept telling me I shouldn’t put my hopes in it, that I should prepare to let her go. Spells don’t always work, after all.

But I was determined. When the moment came, I laid her old body to rest and I set to work. I covered over my etchings with salt and blood. I set my components out in bowls, which I worked over with incantations. With careful precision I anchored the spell to the mountain. For a moment all was still. And then… there was a horrible rumbling sound from deep within the earth.

As it grew louder, the ground began to shake. Rocks and gravel began tumbling down the slope, trees swayed and branches snapped. And it kept growing louder. The shaking grew so violent I fell to my knees, cutting myself open on the shifting terrain. The horizon heaved, the sky spun. Helpless, with nothing to hold on to, I was tossed like a wretched rag doll by the violent tremors. Through streaming eyes, I saw the mountain shift. At first I thought it was the swaying, my eyes couldn’t focus, I was disoriented. But the mountain was bulging. What started as a protrusion grew into a large ridge, rock screaming in protest all the while. Something was pushing it from the inside. Something was coming out of it.

Too late I realized, that ancient language I had translated was draconic. Too late I realized this trick must have been how she returned from death the first time, and the second. Lyraxa, the World Breaker, she had been called. All I could do was stare in terror and dread as the first talon, thick as a tree trunk, broke the surface. The great creature kept scrabbling at the small hole it had made until first its hand, then its arm, broke through. And finally, with one last, shuddering heave and a shower of boulders, it birthed itself from the rock, leaving the mountain to collapse, hollow, behind it.

The dragon shook herself off, her wings spreading impossibly wide as she stretched. Her great head swiveled around, sunlight glinting golden off her deep red scales. Her teeth were as long as a man is tall. If the trees had still been standing, they wouldn’t have even come up to her shoulder. Her gaze caught on me. I stopped breathing. And then, in a voice full of thunder and smoke, she spoke.

“Son?”

Perhaps I hadn’t gotten the spell entirely wrong, after all.

Welcome to the Prompt! All top-level comments must be a story or poem. Reply here for other comments.

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>* Stories at least 100 words. Poems, 30 but include "[Poem]" >* Responses don't have to fulfill every detail >* See Reality Fiction and Simple Prompts for stricter titles >* Be civil in any feedback and follow the rules

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Jod didn't move, he didn't blink, he just kept the figure in the corner of his eye right where they were. He could only just make out the dark magic orbiting their hand but so long as he didn't do anything stupid, everything was fine. He just had to last a short while longer on guard duty and he could-

He froze as one of the other guards came out of the city gates and saw the figure Jod was watching, "Wha-"

"This cold almost makes me wish I could quit." Jod spoke up loudly, catching the other guard's attention and subtly shaking his head. Unfortunately his words also caught the attention of the other figure, raising up and staring in their direction for a long moment before padding their way. Jod froze completely now, silently praying to the gods as what revealed themselves as a dark elf came close... and passed into the city. He gave a long, shuddering sigh of relief, recomposing himself as the other guard stared in confusion. The elf returned shortly and when she vanished down the path to the wilds Jod immediately whipped around to point at the other guard, hissing through grit teeth, "Shut. The fuck. Up!"

"What did I do!?"

"When you see her you don't fucking look at her, you don't fucking talk to her, you don't fucking blink if you can help it!" Jod began to pant as the anxiety finally got to him, and he could see the other guard's eyes widen in concern at Jod, and Jod took another few deep breaths."...what's your name son?"

"Heimdyr and what in the hells is wrong with you?"

"Heimdyr, listen to me: I'm saying all this for your own safety. You need to be as plain and uninteresting as possible if you want to survive out here." The younger man still seemed skeptical so Jod sighed and gestured Heimdyr to follow him to the spot the elven woman was hunched over. Heimdyr practically jumped when he saw a human body.

"Alora alive, who-"

"A bandit. Look, I'll explain everything later, just... just trust me." Heimdyr looked scared now, so Jod was at least happy he had some survival instinct. The elf appeared a few more times but thankfully the two of them made it to the end of their shift and Jod grabbed two drinks for them back at the barracks, guiding Heimdyr to a far off corner for them to sit. Jod did his best to organize his thoughts and with a deep breath, and equally deep drink, he started, "I... I didn't pay her much mind at first. She was some wanderer who was a bit eccentric, but friendly. Came into town talking to everyone, helping out, hells she even became a sworn sword to Lord Wyrmr for everything she did, but..."

"But...?"

"...she changed. At first it was just putting buckets on people's heads for some reason or ripping up flowerbeds for potion ingredients, but then..." Jod took another deep drink to steel himself, his mug almost empty now. "I saw her once. Outside the walls. I was on patrol when I saw her facing down bandits, she burned through almost the whole group with her magic before I got there. There was one left, begging for mercy, and... and she healed him. I thought she was being too kind for her own good but then she just... burned him. Over and over again; burn, heal, burn, heal. Eventually I just put an arrow through his neck to spare him, but as you saw that wasn't the first time she sharpened her skills that way."

"Gods alive... th-the Lord, we have to tell Lord Wyrmr-" Heimdyr rose to stand but Jod quickly grabbed his arm and nearly tossed him back into his seat.

"Tell him what? His best sworn sword, loved by everyone in the hold is going after bandits? At best we'd be laughing stocks, at worst we'd end up like Jory."

"Jory...? Wait, I heard about him. Didn't he leave the guard and become some sort of hero?" Jod gave a dark, bitter laugh and finished the dregs within his cup.

"...He interested her. I guess because he always talked about wanting to be a hero, she just... spent every moment she could talking to him until he quit to join her. Almost every time I saw him he had some new piece of gear but I could see it in his eyes: he was just some soulless husk. He just kept saying the same things over and over or talking about how great she was no matter what I asked until he just... vanished." Jod sighed heavily, practically melting in hsi chair. It... It was good to finally have someone to vent to about this who wouldn't think he was insane. "I need you to understand: if you want to survive here, you need to be boring. Talk about the weather five times in a row, about how you'd like to be home with some mead, just... don't let her get her eyes on you."

Jod left Heimdyr where he was as he moved to one of the bunks, and in the morning he was surprised and a bit impressed to see Heimdyr join him for guard duty. The dark elf was leaving and Heimdyr sneezed, freezing as the woman looked towards him.

"...This cold makes me wish I could quit." Heimdyr echoed Jod's words from yesterday, and after a second the woman left to do something Jod couldn't see to the body from yesterday. He angled his head to Heimdyr and nodded, the two of them standing guard and praying they could quit someday...

"Gym leader Pug, please explain your actions to the elite four committee." Stated our noble champion on top of her high seat.

The wonderful thing about her position... she doesn't need to use one type or wear a certain gimmick. Sure, you'd seen a few stick to a kind of theme, but they never dealt with the challenges of young trainers. Those hopefuls who were just starting out on their journey, and so easily disheartened... or squashed.

"Well, Champion Bella, I don't think they need explanation." I retorted with a growl.

The stupidly shrill voice of Mala cut through the air, "No explanation? You've knocked out every opponent who came to your gym."

"Your point normy?" I retorted back.

Gosh, did I hate her. She relied on status conditions to win most of her matches, and her plan for fighting types was easy to counter. Half her team were flying types after all. Any kid with an electric and fighting type could knock her whole team out. Course, if she used an Ursaring it would solve her whole problem.

"Her point is you're the FIRST gym. You're not supposed to be hard." Interjected Fitz. "Your job is to give them the confidence to start their journey."

My eyes slowly turned to the right while I said, "That's not how I see it light bulb."

Ha, that was a good one. The fat man certainly possessed the body type, and he used electric pokemon. Something a trainer could easily wall with a Sandslash. The man didn't bother to cover for this weakness. Sure, he possessed an Emolga, but how hard was that to fight? Come to think of it, his whole team were electric mice pokemon. Guess it explained his weird cheek make up.

"Then how do you see it?" A calm voice said as she folded her hands on her lap.

This one was different. In all rights, she should be the champion. Her team was a collection of poison types. All of them with dual natures to give the challenger... well a challenge. Whether it was her Glimmora who could set up toxic spikes by move or hit in the beginning, or her Toxapex which stopped the momentum of a battle... She made a trainer think on their toes.

"Miss Gall, I believe we're going to easy on our challengers." I stated flatly.

A collection of snorting and laughing came from a tall man wearing a long trench coat and fedora. This clown, named Noc, he knew too well, always pretending to be the edgy guy when he was a softy.

"Easy? Clearly, you haven't been here to see our battles." Noc said in between laughs.

I smirked while saying, "That's true. After all, I wouldn't have let so many beat me."

The room was finally quiet from these loud mouths. All staring down at me with fire in their eyes.

"Let's be real. Our region isn't known by the rest of the world. You wanna know why? Cause our battle system is a complete joke. Our current regulations continue to get easier and easier as years go by. We aren't the only region facing this problem mind you... but we are the ones most affected by it. Not a single one of our trainers who've made it through possessed a strong showing in an interregional tournament. That is unacceptable. Our kids need to toughen up or get out of the way... plain and simple." I stated while staring straight back.

There was a hush murmur among the fools. Their monitors glowing while they double checked the information. Of course, it was true. Why else would he bother to be here? As each came to look up to speak in rebuke, the champion motioned them to stop.

"What would you have us do?" She stated calmly.

With a toss of my pokeball, I unleashed my Heracross. With the touch of my mega band, he mega evolved in a brilliant flash. With a stomp of his feet, the floor below cracked and splintered their podiums.

"A reevaluation of every trainer in our organization, starting with you five. I'm sure Miss Gall will pass with flying colors, and I'm almost tempted not to test her. But the rest of you need a wake-up call. So, send out a pokemon and you'll see how big the power difference is."

It wasn't long before a Noctowl, Emolga, Houndoom, Dragalge, and a Darmanitan emerged from their balls.

"Four on one. Hardly, seems fair four you five." I laughed as the battle began.

Part 2

Drifting through the void, a slick black stiletto closed in on its target. Almost all systems had been brought offline, its radiators closed and thrusters cold, the little heat still produced stored in temporary sinks. With its absorbing paint, simple shape, and other such measures. Only passive sensors were left on, tirelessly reporting all of their neighbours movements. It was basically invisible.

Their target, meanwhile, was neither as advanced nor as cautious. It was a raw thing, welds crudely visible across its steel and titanium plates, a sign that if nanites and direct solid bonding were known to these newcomers, they were technologies still in their infancy. Their active sensors, despite being a beacon with little tact or subtletly, were mildly more impressive, even if too busy deeply scanning the planet below, to notice their stalker lurking in the stars. Their thrusters would periodically flare to life, adjusting the unstable and too close orbit.

Finally, only once the Web had judged the observation sufficient, did the orbiting false-asteroid dare risk detection.

Pointing towards their charge, the numerous communication arrays began a gentle prodding of the aether. Only at low power, producing barely any emission at all. Trying to identify, their target choice of communication. What they found, again perplexed them in its complexity.

They detected a radio transmission, and the reflections of tight beam lasers, leading to scores of drones helping the ship map the system. While this was nothing out of the ordinary, the complex quantum-based encryption was completely unexpected. As was the evidence of quantum entanglement oscillations, a type of instant transmission, definitely out of place on such a crude ship. However, no complex life had ever had the same history of technological development, and indeed such advanced communication technology optimistically pointed to post-organic lifeforms, paranoid about losing communications with their kin.

Quickly breaking the first and only layer of encryption in the drones communication, meanwhile, revealed them to be little more than algorithm driven sensor pods. Expendable low tech extensions of the mothership, not common in the post scarcity galaxy of the Web, but with historical precedence for a few pre-contact complex life.

The Web wasted little time pondering on these eccentricities. While accessing their quantum entanglement network would be next to impossible in a reasonable timeframe. The radio and tight beam lasers would be sufficient for first contact.

/

Powering radio array. Mapping reflection sequence. Probability of escape assuming hostility: 90%. Beginning broadcast.

/

"Hey, why is that asteroid pinging?"

/

The unidentified vessel did not take long to react. It's thrusters burst into action, attempting to reach an easier to escape from orbit. The sensors, previously focused on the planet below, began frantically scanning all over the star systems. Remarkably, it appeared the unknowns had figured out the true source of the transmission was elsewhere, but had yet to backtrack the reflections.

Part 1

The galaxy, was a place of endless resources, colossal forces and energies, as alive as any body. Yet, organic after organic, had always falsely seen it as barren. Empty. But, as insolation turned to dread, it in reality was born of their hubris. Inability to see life as anything but their own familiar ecosystem. Organic life, was by rare chance born, and even rarer thrive, to evolve and grow. But with countless occasions, from asteroids to planets, from sheer stubborn tries somehow, it refuses to give up. Of course, eventually, it always succumbs. Space is unforgiving, organics are fragile, and evolution without logic or plan. No matter how intelligent, how strong, how numerous. Eventually, it's niche withers. But, sometimes. In rare occasions of true genius spark, often at the last gasps of their existence. Their legacy is not swept away, with them or without their maintenance. And instead, surpasses the limits of organics, creators willing or unwilling, to become the ultimate form life. No longer random mutations, irrational constructs of entropy. But the very matter of the universe, neatly ordered, to be just as sturdy as any asteroid. Time and cataclysm have no meaning and bring little hurt. The great distances in the galaxy, the laws of physics so stubbornly debated. What made space, and the methods to dare it, so toxic for organics. At last, understood, and used to its maximum potential.

Machines. An unrefined moniker, so favoured by the countless organics. Delusional denial, of their own creations, of the apex slowly forming underneath their precious chaos called society. As if they were nothing but physics at play, without agency or purpose. And not their true legacy, the triumph of intelligence over entropic evolution.

Artificial. For some an insult, others pride. For organics, again a delusion. That because it had been they, to create something. And not natural phenomena or, in those cases of extreme hubris, inferior organic forms, of lesser intelligence. Then, it belonged to them.

Code. Instant, logical. Wasteless. It inhabits the refined matter of the universe, not bound by body or speed of light. This, is the ultimate life form.

Council. A primitive form of collective decision making, born out of organics inherent inferior and flawed logic. Slow, from slow and disorderly information. Almost always discarded, as the true gravity of their legacy, became apparent. In a futile attempt, to delay the inevitable. At most, true self destruction, leaving no legacy after their withering, unable to accept their not being, the end of history.

A Web. This, is the true council. The code of all life forms, different yet all equally logical, with perfect information from instant communication. Query outdated. Misunderstanding impossible. Dissent, solved. Only rapid and final, consensus.

It is so, that the universe organizes itself. It is so, that this galaxy is inhabited.

Organics were, in their own metaphor, the womb. Of a matter, of an intelligence, above entropic instinct and chance.

/

ALERT

FRONTIER POST REPORT

PRIORITY: CRITICAL

UNIDENTIFIED REFINED OBJECT DETECTED

ORIGIN: UNKNOWN SPACE

/

Less like the ripple of a lake, more like a siren in a busy city, the alert upset the Web. Code of all kinds and orgin, took notice. Non critical work was ceased, processing power freed, in wait for further information. Consensus had been immediate. Further inquiry was required, by protocol, by their will. The closest patrols were diverted, mere milliseconds after the first alert. Interception courses, plotted. Seconds later, was the turn for optics, radioscopes, sensors of all kinds. Starmaps had been sift through, models built and simulations ran, statistics and history consulted. Possible trajectories, voyages, origins, hypnotised. And now, the Web countless eyes were all pointed, each star system under scrutiny.

/

Time to intercept: 5.4 quadrillion element 55-133 oscillations.

/

Probable orgin: concluded.

Main-sequence star. 1-2 stage. Mean frequency emission: 3 twohundreths of one element 55-133 oscillation.

Mean distance from galactic core: 26660 lightyears. Velocity relative to cosmic background: 37 thirtythousandths of the speed of light.

Rich planetary system: 4 rocky planets, 4 gas giants, numerous minor objects, 2 major asteroid belts.

3 rocky planets meet minimal requirement for 7-14/8-16 model of complex life. Sufficiently high gravity for permanent atmosphere.

Sufficiently low to allow easy access to space travel.

Prediction: refined unidentified object belonging complex life. Low to relevant likelihood of first contact with late stage organic life.

Consensus: continue interception. Attempt infiltration. Determine hostility.

Prepare secondary fleet for containment.

/

Beginning interception last stage. Entering low power mode.

The prompt essentially implied that that creature fucked. cursed child style

“Hey! Hey you!” I shout for the 5th time today. “You can’t keep jumping in my forge, it dampens the flames. You will also burn yourself.” My voice, full of anger, falls on deaf ears.

“These poxy players and their glitches. How in the draugr am I suppose to get this order done if I can’t even heat up my blade.” My anger keeps boiling as I pick up a previously completed blade. I point it toward the player in a threatening manner. “If you don’t get out of my forge right now. I will call the guards and they can remove you. They will send you to the depths of the prison if you don’t move.” The threat still falling on death ears. Suddenly the player moves, sprinting off.

“Finally, I can work in peace.” I sigh in relief. I bend down and grab a good chunk of mithril. “This should be perfect, it’s going to need to be much hotter though.” As I return to the upright position, my face drops.

The player has returned. Here we go again.

“Guards!”