Oops, yeah, didn't register that. I guess in my mind it was about the minimum like the other posts, not the maximum.

Second part

“My name is Lavender” the girl reached out with her hand to shake. I re-adjusted my focus away from the screen. “My name’s Console. Uh, I mean Daniel. Sorry, it’s just a lot to take. Not talking about your hand of course, which is just the right amount of volume. I meant all this is very new to me.” I spoke and shook her hands fumblingly.

“I understand, you zoned out there for a moment.”

“Did you know my father?”

“We did interact a bit, but Roger knows him the best I suppose” she pointed to the first stranger, who was around the same age as my father.

“Knew him? He was like my dad.”

“Dad? But you are around the same age as him!”

“No, he was like my dad – arrogant. We were close friends alright, but we had a fight some months before his disappearance. I didn’t talk to him after that”

“Roger, my father is trapped inside the console, I found a note from him.”

“Let me see it. Do a screen share.”

“How?” But before I could finish, he bumped his forehead against mine.

“There you go, I can see from your eyes now.”

“Can I too?” Lavender asked. This time I was prepared. Compared to Roger’s leathery old skin, Lavender’s skin was soft and warm. Her beautiful eyes stared at me as they came closer. My heart skipped a beat, nobody had ever bumped their forehead against mine like that before.

“Jesus sudo christ! The rumours were real. He did get inside the virus.” there were all different kinds of emotions in Roger’s voice.

I had already read the note. It told me about a virus that was spreading and infecting mental consoles and how he tried to fight against it. He had to hack the system to get root access in order to neutralise the virus but got trapped inside it in the process. He had given me root access just before writing the note. The end of the note contained a long cryptic text.

“End the sharing, quick!” Roger exclaimed.

“How?”

“Close your eyes, obviously!”

I closed my eyes. Roger whispered to me, “Don’t trust everyone here. The cryptic text might be the key to retrieving your father.”

“I got the dog out!” a man behind Lavender jumped with joy.

“Jack my boy! I knew you were brilliant, but this exceeds my expectations!” Roger complimented.

“Thanks! I figured I can’t move the dog along orthogonal axes, so why not try to rotate it? thankfully he wasn’t buried too far and it worked!”

“Come here Discordant!” I called the dog my father gave me. I hugged and petted him; happy to have found out more about my father.

From the corner of my eye, I saw Lavender leaving the front door. At that moment Jack screamed, “Roger look!”

Jack was looking at the TV in my room, which was turned on but muted.

“Deadly earthquake rocks Turkey and neighbouring nations” the bulletin read.

“It’s just an earthquake,” I said.

“No dear. It’s not just another earthquake. There was no earthquake schedule in the logs. At this scale at least, I’m pretty sure.”

“Does it mean…” it was Jack who asked but Roger spun around abruptly and replied with fear in his eyes, “Yes. The virus is spreading faster than we thought.”

If the message is in his DNA, that means he disappeared before he was born and he would have no memories of him. The letter would have to be written before conception for that to be possible. And if he was missing before conception, the narrator would not exist.

The drone was hovering above the christmas mass. Holy communion was almost over. It was packed, men women and children. Father o’malley was placing the final wafer of communion bread on the tongue of an elderly woman when suddenly there was a giant flash of orange and a deafening bang. No, it wasn’t a bomb. The drone had been shot with an rpg by an alter boy. Everyone screamed and panic broke out.

Father o malley threw off his priest robes and pulled out a sidearm pistol, firing 5 perfectly aimed shots at the smoldering drone. ‘EVERYBODY OUT’. the masses ran for their lives. The stained glass windows shattered as a swat team crashed in, aiming their guns at o’malley and the alter boy and spraying rounds. They took cover behind the alter and returned fire, throwing a couple of grenades. O’malley turned to the alter boy with a defeated look on his face. ‘Run boy, destroy the documents’. He stood up and sprayed rounds with his pistol as the young boy ran away.

The firepower of the swat team was too much, and o’malley fell to the ground, writhing and squirming as they pumped him with lead. An eerie silence fell over the place. A swat commander walked up to the body, and let out a sigh. ‘Your times done o’malley. Your secret plan to storm the vatican and declare yourself pope is over. I underestimated you, i thought our suirvellane drone was foolproof. Well played old man, but the jig is up’. He spat on o’malleys body and walked away.

“Ah, you must be the sacrifice the village sent. Are you perhaps the fairest among them, meant to be displayed in my lair? Or perhaps their best scholar, meant to discuss philosophy with me?”

“I am Karkas.” The minotaur replied.

“I see.” The dragon staired at the young minotaur and blinked a few times. “Is that all?”

“Karkas has was told by villagers that there was much gold in this cave.” The minotaur looked back and forth, scanning the floor of the cave. All he was able to see were bones and crispy pieces of armor.”

“Ah,” the dragon said. “ You are here to steal my gold then?”

Karkas looked up at the dragon. The glittery scales mesmerized him for a moment. Distracting him much like a child staring at a mobile.

“Karkas is no thief. Karkas thought the townsfolk left gold in cave. They only told Karkas he need be brave to retrieve it.” Karkas scratched his head, never breaking his gaze from the dragons scales. They seemed to shimmer in the light of his torch.

“I think I know what happened,” the dragon began, “Those conniving little townsfolk thought they could send you to me in place of their sacrifice. That wasn’t very nice of them.”

“Karkas, likes your scales. They are pretty.” The minotaur sat down on a bolder and let his axe drop to his side.

“Thank you, uh, Karkas is it? It is very difficult to keep my scales clean in this dingy place. So much soot and grime.” The dragon brought his giant head down to eye level with Karkas. The dragon’s head alone was four times bigger than the stout minotaur. “ You look rather tasty treat, I will not lie, but before I decide what to do with you, why don’t you tell old Shaldox what exactly you were hoping to do with his gold?”

The question regarding his motives broke his concentration from the scales. A serious look came across his face, and the dragon shifted ever so suddenly with anticipation.

“Karkas’ friends in jail. Karkas owes money, until Karkas pay back 10,000 gold, friends stay in jail.” The minotaur cast a serious gaze on the dragon.

“Do you wish me to pay your debt? Wipe the slate clean for your friends and yourself?” The dragon had a big toothy grin.

“Karkas would owe then?” The minotaur questioned.

“Exactly. I resolve your friends dispute, and you and your friends do a small quest for me.” Shaldox replied.

“Karkas’ friends are always ready to adventure. Karkas accepts your offer.” The minotaur extended he hand for a handshake.

The dragon, not wanting to be rude, sat up and extended the very tip of his claw, which was so thick the nearly seven-foot minotaur could barely rap his hand around it.

“Wait here Karkas. I will return in a few minutes. Make your self at home.” The dragon then fluttered its wings, blowing the torch out, and flew from the cave. The force of the wind pushed Karkas back down on to his seat.

A few minutes passed and the Shaldox the Dragon returned.

“Go back down to the city. Your friends will be in the jail house. There should be no trouble from the townsfolk. Come back when you are finished. The quest I have for you cannot wait.”

Karkas made his way back down to the village. Upon his arrival he immediately realized that all but a handful of buildings had been burned to the ground. There was not a single building in the entire town that was not singed or fire damaged in some way. As Karkas approached the jailhouse he found his friends being released right on que.

After exchanging pleasantries for a few moments and explaining the situation to his friends, they began making their way back to the dragon’s cave. They may be free from the jailhouse, but the real test was yet to come.

I sympathize with Marcus. He’s had to listen and cringe as Wolfe and Ssu mispronounce Machiavelli’s name twice now, and he’s been on the team for longer, so he’s probably been listening to these two mispronounce Machiavelli for weeks at least.

its max 300 words mate

A Jealous God

> Transcript of Expedition Log 2023-01-30, found on Dr. Thompson's hard drive.

Is this recording? Uh... Hello, this is Dr. Sawyer. Drone is at 97% battery, 92 meters away from the structure. Temperature readings are 31° C. Humidity is... Ok, I've been told to move along.

No animals around the site, just as initial exploratory team reported. The etchings cannot be discerned from so far away. Approaching the structure.

My God! Sorry, video quality is degrading but what I saw... it's magnificent. I wish I could be there. The level of detail is impossible. Uh? Feed is back up. I'm seeing... figures on the walls. Carvings. They have two arms, two legs, and yet, I don't feel we can call them human. They seem to be bringing something into the temple. The drawings move towards the door.

Light inside is minimal, turning on flashlight. The carvings continue. It's like a story on the walls, they move deeper inside. They are making offerings to... something. It's not, it's not on the etchings. It's hidden from me. No, it's just, empty wall. Why is it not there?

I just want to see... I'll move Heaven and Earth to -

(audio ends)

I've transcribed Dr. Sawyer's audio for your review. Please, advise. I've seen the footage, and he is right. Whatever the structure was built to worship... it's not on the wall anymore. Whatever Hell this is from, w3 h4ve a du7y to put an 3ND to it.

Something is making it mad. May God have merc-

> Saved to draft 4 hours ago

The reason for the fire that destroyed our Brazilian research site is still unknown.

Why does it hate us? What have we done?

Dreams and Nightmares, the two sides of the human consciousness. Dreams were possibilities, things that gave the mind a rest and to help it focus; to keep someone continuing, giving them goals, to become something more then what they were. My mom made a pact with Aseil, something that created dreams and gave them to right rouge dream beings. She became the legendary Dream Defender Leonine...

My dad wasn't like that. He was a Knightmare User; Aseil's sister created them, meant to teach people fear, to warn them of the future... but in reality, she just existed. They were flaws someone had; His Knightmare was a creepy moth man, with four arms and gleaming red eyes it stood as tall as a person... he was never most social and had bad luck...

They met in the hospital when they were kids, and they met their partners on the same night during a Dreamtide they became fast friends and eventually they were married.

But mom didn't... fully recover...

----

My name is Makoto Kusenagi. My hair is short and dyed blonde, my face looks like it's always scowling, my eyebrows are too big, and i wear a leather jacket over mu uniform. I carry around a bat and come from the bad part of town. No one really wants to know me...

But eversince my mom died... I met my pal Roosevelt. He looks like a teddie bear usually, and i kept him in my backpack just in case. And if any dumbass wants to make fun of me for it, then he turns into a bear wearing a crown and scepter and that usually makes them not want to question it.

With him, i can become Dream Defender Ursinine. My dress is bright pink princess outfit, my hair is long and blonde, and my bat becomes a scepter worthy of a queen.

you might think I would hate it but...

no.

it makes me smile, no one judges me anymore; people don't look at me like I'm some punk...

Dad still finds it funny though, but to be honest he wouldn't get it. Knightmares can't be seen by other people not connected to the dream worlds. Dream Defenders are seen... well, not really; We're what we want to be, deep down in our hearts. I liked Creeper, don't get me wrong he is an extension of my dad, in a way, but not everyone could see him and those that did were Dream-possed or other knightmare users... or us.

So it was today, in my bright and fluffy magical girl dress that he tried to help me with being a dream defender. Neo Yankai had a few, but... well, our family is one that works together.

Creeper is a good spy; my dad tells me he sees our target.

"You ready, Makoto?"

I smiled. "your damn right..."

"Language."

"C'mon dad, just because I look like this doesn't mean i can't be cool."

Creeper fluttered top of a lamppost and snickered. Roosevelt shook his head. "It's okay Ursinine, he just wants the best for ya."

"yeah yeah..."

... I missed mom, but... I still have my dad. And so long as i have that I can make this work.

Thanks for catching that! I added a period for current directory. I assume that should work?

> Edit: I’m not sure if morse code supports “-“

It does, surprisingly. But as -....-, at least, in international Morse.

Minor nitpicking, but rm -rf won't do anything as it is, since there's nothing to tell it what to delete. The -r tells it to go through each folder in the specific location, and the -f tells it to ignore non-fatal errors/safety protocols (such as the file being marked as something not to be deleted), and proceed anyway.

I'm sure it's out there somewhere!

That said, if KyoAni is reading this, my DMs are open :P

I. HATE. DEBUGGING.

It’s days like today that make me wish it was the weekend, when I could do fun stuff. Don’t get me wrong, I like coding. I like technology.

Building old tech is even what I do on the weekends. I’ve been going backwards through the history of personal level technology and am up to crystal radios. I even learned Morse code even though it’s not required for HAM licenses any more.

I’ve started dreaming in the sounds of dots and dashes.

But that’s for Saturday.

Today I have to figure out why removing this variable that isn’t used anywhere else is throwing compiler errors.

My eyes are killing me staring at this screen. I know everyone said that the eyes start to go after 40. Maybe I should make that appointment.

-.-. --- -. ... --- .-.. .

What the hell is this blue window?

>_

I might have finally lost it. I’m hallucinating command line prompts.

Nobody else seems to notice anything.

That’s it. I’m going home. I’ll just drop a quick email to my manager Jim and Susan in HR that I need to take some personal time.

>whois Jim … Jim Sturbin Age: 49 Race: Lesser Demon

>whois Susan … Susan Bradford Age: 37 Race: Greater Demon

I knew it!!!

in the year 2076, the strange message left on peoples forehead post the rapture was finally translated. it said 'do not harvest, not fit for consumption'. but it was a bit late. humans were already being harvested and consumed on a mass industrial scale. you could buy a human sandwich, a human ice cream cone, and controversially, a human hummus.

the lord of neo-humanity, fulwick poltergiest, sat and pondered the message whilst eating a foot. he decided it was gods sick twisted joke, one final poke in the eye. he cursed god and threw the foot to the ground, where it was quickly feasted upon by his famished slaves. 'i will have my restitution, he said'. he ordered 100 new human farms to be built, and for the number of humans bread for consumption and harvesting to increase 100 fold.

but it was too late. once the human livestock had heard that the rumours about the forehead message was true, they immeditately went into open revolt, rioting through the farms and the hummus factories and destroying equiptment. they took several hostages and demanded fulwick stand down as lord of neo-humanity. falwick stood firm, and kept the rebels guessing by using mind control laser beams from his neo castle. in the end, the livestock gave in to hunger and started to cannabalise themselves, in a twist of bitter irony.

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.whoami I thought.

"Who are you?" a synthetic voice groans.

Shaken and bewildered by the depths of all hell, I look around and see nothing but the void. I feel the void senses my heistation, and calls for my attention. A bright flashing strobe of contrasting white now appears in every degree around me.

This is not Morse Code I think to myself.

"What is this?" I mutter quietly.

The Stobe gives away as the synthetic void from earlier replies. It's being accompanied by text. "XY, "Xavier W. Longbottom" Age: 29 years, 4 months, 20 days, 17 hours, 8 minutes and 19 seconds. (Since last refresh) Status: Present In Konsole Mode".

"Am I in my computer? What is going on? Am I dreaming or really fucking high?" How could this be possible I thought.

Owl-eyed I stood there still in disbelief. I had to continue blinking fervously to believe it. I was looking at my own command prompt, the strobe light turned out to be the text cursor! I was to command my person from the inside. The possibilities ran limitless in my thoughts.

But if you could believe it, what happened next should come as a warning to those who feel envy for what's happened so far.

I went to work modifying my personality, habits, and interests. If time existed in here, I don't know how long it took until I had the perfect version of myself. After getting used to the system I started to consider myself God's apprentice. With all my changes I was looking forward to logging out back into reality.

However, after applying the changes I was interrupted by an error message. "This archetype is already taken."

"Shit. well, guess I can't be perfect right?" I laugh to ease the pain, knowing I'll have to find another.

After changing and re-changing of different values and variables I find myself at the same error message again, and again. "This archetype is already taken."

This wouldn't have been so bad if there was a restore to default setting.

So here I am, I don't know who I am or suppose to be, cant go back to who I was and I don't know how to get out.

Fin

(Note)First time sharer here. New to writing, welcome to ALL grammar and writing criticism. Kinda went off topic from OPs a bit as I'd always wished for this scenario Also my only coding skills come from Mr. Robot being my favorite TV show

If you read it hope you enjoyed

Could’ve been a lot worse. Imagine if he’d tried position: absolute?

Would love to see this as a manga/anime

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The image of a bunch of reality bending tech support guys trying to un noclip a dog is hilarious to me

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Moaaaaaar

... pretty please

Sanctuary

The man threw himself through the cathedral's entrance, past the grand double doors, and hurried to haul them shut after him. They creaked in complaint, then slammed shut, the noise echoing across empty pews. The man doubled over, panting from the exertion.

When he finally looked up, his breath was taken away once again. The dome of the church above him was painted with saints and angels, sinners and demons. The scenes were beautiful, and dredged from his memory stories long-forgotten. He couldn't help but stare at it in wonder.

But he knew what lurked beyond. The drone was up there somewhere, a tiny black dot in a clear blue sky. Ten military-grade cameras had tracked his path, and its owners doubtlessly knew where he was now. The dome was pretty, but he knew it offered no protection.

"There isn't a service today," called the priest from the other side of the cathedral. "But you are welcome to stay here, if you wish."

"I won't be long," the man said, with a grim smile. He held his side and stiffly limped over to sit in a pew.

"Is everything alright?" the priest asked.

"No," he said, shaking his head. "They'll be here for me soon."

"... who?" the priest asked, worry written into the lines of his face.

"I... don't have the words to explain," the man said. "But they've already won."

"If somebody is after you, I will guarantee you sanctuary," the priest began, but the man shook his head. It was pointless.

There was a knock on the door, and as the priest turned to see who was there - and perhaps refuse them entry - a gunshot rang out. A stained glass window shattered into pieces. A bullet went right through the man's skull, leaving splattered blood over the pews.

[300 words, excluding title.]

It’s in his dna?

Ok,

1. ⁠I fit this description
2. ⁠I may or may not have tried blinking "console" (although terminal would be more appropriate)
3. ⁠Every developer worth his salt knows that the short cut is ctrl+alt+T