I was thinking body language in general tbh

Stealth vs orc stealth.

> Supreme Supremacy

I'm assuming they named themselves with a good sense of humor, or else they need to learn to get over themselves.

Moar pls

It's one of those words without single definition, it can change depending on usage and context.

Sentient vs sapient in science fiction is (very roughly) 'able to feel/sense/observe' vs 'capable of self awareness and abstract thought'.

In other usage sapient can both mean 'wise' and its 'attempting to appear wise', which can lead to hilarious misunderstanding depending on who makes the claim or accusation.

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Great story! I really enjoyed your implementation of frequency!

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Humanity looked on in awe as the spaceship touched down. The contact before was minimal, simply a transmission saying they would come to assess them. The world’s leaders all gathered around as the hatch opened and alien life touched down on Earth for the first time. It’s shiny green skin seemed to flow and jiggle as it looked around, it’s deep purple eyes assessing the crowd gathered around it. One of the human leaders stepped forward. “Welcome to our planet, we are overjoyed to have you here.”

The alien did not respond. A tenseness started to form in the atmosphere as it continued to scan everything around it. After a while longer, it let out something that seemed approximate to a sigh, turned around, and re-entered it’s ship. A short sentence escaped under its breath, “There is no Keeneetaa…” And with that, it left, returning to the stars from whence it came.

And no one knew why.

20 Years Later

The fallout from the event seemed worrisome at first. What went wrong? What was a Keeneetaa? Would they ever return? But from that panic, inspiration started to develop. Clearly, if humanity lacked this “Keeneetaa”, they would need to acquire it. And so, a new golden age for the world arrived, seeing progress in science, art, philosophy, and more. All in search of the nebulous “Keeneetaa”. If the aliens returned, no, when they returned, humanity would show that they had what they needed to join the rest of the universe.

And so that day came. And it played out much the same. The alien arrived, assessed them all, then left muttering the same words, “No Keeneetaa…” But surely they had tried their hardest? Who was there to blame?

50 Years Later

Surely they must be to blame! The thought reverberated in the head of every world leader. The aliens must have been offended by them, something in their culture or appearance, something that made the aliens think worse of the rest of them, the better parts of humanity! And so the tension started to boil over. It started with small political disagreements, a rejection of a proposal here, a denial of a trade agreement there. But it did not take that long to turn to war. Soon the entire world was engulfed, a never-ending climate of death and destruction.

It only ceased when the transmission came again. The “peace” came quick, as countries rushed to make themselves more presentable for the coming assessment. But it again played out the same, with the phrase passing the visitor’s lips once more, “No Keeneetaa…” It took even shorter for the “peace” to end.

100 Years Later

Joshua did not know if he was the last of humanity. He had not seen another living human since his mother died some 12 years ago, but the world is a big place, thought Joshua, emptily optimistic. However, whether he was the last one or not, he knew he was dying, if not from his sickness, from his lack of food and water. But then in the sky, he saw it. The ship landed right in front of him, and out stepped the alien, the one from the stories his mother told.

He stumbled up to it. “Please…” he begged, “Please help me, take me away from here!” As that false hope he carried all this time fell away. The alien stared at him, saying nothing. Then it turned around, went back into it’s ship, and muttered once again, “No Keeneetaa…” The ship flew away, and Joshua wouldn’t have been surprised if the alien hadn’t even actually noticed him.

An Unknown Time Later

The Idira thrived on earth, their precursors, humans, had left much technology behind, which let the Idira evolve societally at a rapid pace. And they had reached what they believed to be the next step. A transmission from deep space arrived, saying they were to be assessed. Surely not even humanity, as great as they were, had had this chance.

The day finally came, the space ship landed in front of the gathered world leaders, and the hatch opened. The alien stepped out and and looked around. A world leader stepped forward, giving a customary Idira welcome. The alien stayed silent. Then, it turned around, seemed to sigh, said “No Keeneetaa…”, and left.

When the Dimensional Wound first opened up and demons began spewing out of it, corrupting the landscape, a crusade was declared to push them back and try to find a way to close the rift between our dimensions. It was successful for the most part, and was crucial for establishing a containment zone even if it didn't reach the wound. However, rumors began to reach us about an undead lord having risen to power within the wound's influence, killing members of the fifth crusade and raising them as undead. When we heard there was a failed coup from the living members of his court, we felt pressed to take the job.

There were four of us. Fara The Incorruptible, a terrifying woman full of self righteousness. Even her allies do not tread lightly around her. Broga the Ogre, one of the most intelligent specimens to come forward and don armor and weapon for king and country. Brutal fighter. Sean the Ranger, he fires faster than he aims, leaves most foes pincushioned. Finally, our fallen artificer. His chest was completely caved in and lungs splattered across the battlefield from an ambush of intelligent undead, a barbarian dealing the killing blow.

The door to his ritual chamber is ahead of us, Fara has been saving her healing spells for this, but our wounds sting with rot. The undead in the castle have been using hit and run tactics to pick away at us. We'd have wizards pop out of closets to cast open wounds on us, before teleporting away, archers fire at us from balconies and once, when we thought we had routed some fighting dead, we chased them into getting a bookshelf dropped on us. We are hurting.

"That's it. I'm out. You two better tough it up, the worst is yet to come." Broga speaks up. "All this death, how did nobody kill this arrogant fool sooner? This crusade is going to go down in history as a bloody nightmare." Sean will wince as he picks at the scabbed wounds on his hand. "Maybe we should take a rest, if we keep watch or find a side room maybe we can rest, I don't think I'm ready." "If we wait any longer, they'll pick us off. We've barely killed any defenders, so don't expect this to be easy."

As the three face the door, Broga takes a few steps back, roars and charges into it, breaking it clean off the hinges and crushing several undead in the throneroom. Barricades manned by undead shepherded by twisted vampires mocking human form separate the defenders from the attackers. Broga will sweep the field with his warhammer, sending bones and cadavers flying across the room in broken heaps. Sean is headhunting the most powerful undead wizards he can see and Fara is making the vampires burn under her holy gaze. The room lights up with magic as the foundation of the building shakes at the defenders efforts. It is only a single word that causes the entire battle to stop in an instant.

#"STOP."

The lich has entered the room. All eyes and eyeholes fall upon him. "If you care about a future where the world isn't ruled by demons, you will listen to what I have to say." The undead engaged by the party give them some room, moving to the sides of the room as the lich approaches the damaged barricade.

"You must think yourselves the heroes, right? That as soon as you kill me this crusade will join hands and sing as they drive back the demons to the hellworld they came from, right?" Fara speaks up with righteous venom in her voice. "Monsters like you and the demons are one and the same, the crusade will not fear you." The lich scoffs at her with matching contempt.

"Won't fear me? You belligerent harlot, have you even seen what demons do to people? I was there when they would swoop down from the skies, and pick up soldiers to skin them in mid-air. The kind of terror tactics that make men come home, shaking uncontrollably, crying in the night. If you were anywhere near an army, you'd know they are terrified. Fearlessness is for the zealots." Broga starts to interrupt his speech. "You killed them all, and you have the nerve to talk about how the demons tortured them?!"

"I'm not letting an army that could destroy the rift just leave with their tails between their legs as demons pick off the slowest that cry in the night. Demons take such pleasure in mortal terror, but undead do not feel any such thing. I have freed them from the chains of life, and allowed them to reach their true potential. I can offer you the same, willing undead can go through rituals to retain their intelligence. I have given up my humanity to save the world, join me so that we may succeed."

Fara's eyes burn with fury. She steps past her companions to speak directly to the lich. Sean and Broga look at each other, trying to gauge each others reactions to the offer. "My companions will not be swayed to your side. We will crush you, then we will crush your sinful army before swiftly crushing the demons. When we have finally rid the crusade of sin we will stride towards victory. Attack!"

She draws her sword and steps forward, but as she attempts to swing at the lich, Sean restrains her from behind. "What the hell are you doing?!" "I'm not about to let my brother walk into this hellscape when I could end it now before he's deployed." The lich watches with an unchanging expression on his bony face. "Broga, it's just you and me, kill Sean and we'll take the lich together." The lich speaks. "I have no use for the protected body and soul of a cleric. Kill her. It's dirty work but it has to be done."

Fara thrashes around in Sean's grip, steadily working her way loose as she drops her sword. Broga silently considers the consequences of his actions, and as Fara headbutts sean to free herself, before she can swing a gauntlet at him, she's sent flying by a strike from Broga, straight out a stained glass window. He gold threaded armor glitters in the sun as she falls, bouncing off a roof sending tiles flying as she tumbles into the sea.

"You did the right thing. Follow me, the sooner you start the rituals, the sooner you can reach your true potential." The two heroes look out the window just in time to see Fara bounce off the rocks into the water, a dark truth settling in their stomach as they realize what they have done. It's too late to turn back, and undead have no regrets.

"Tonight on the late night show, we have the myth, the man, the legend...Miko Tanake, the richest man on the planet and the only person ever to be ineligible for the gauntlet!" said the host cheerfully. The crowd applause deafened the showroom.

In the left a man waltz in, he was covered in scars from head to toe but wore an extremely expensive suit. He walked with a sense of pride, held a strong presence. He made his way slowly towards the podium while keeping a keen sense on any danger. This was signs of a man who had been to hell and back.

The host welcomed him, shook his hands and introduced him again to the crowd. They kept a mesmerizing gaze on him as he waved at them with a smile on his face. Next, the host asks him to tell sit down and tell him his story.

Miko, sat next to the hosts' desk, takes a deep breath and utters the most simple words. "You gotta fight dirty Jerry!"

Duality: Harmony

Chapter 7

Previously: Harmony entered a memory vault where trees were situated like museum displays. She is reading through the vault logs—the plaques affixed to the displays.

Vault Log, exhibit seven:

Dear Grace,

We’re on a care-convoy today. Visiting a local sheik and bringing them goodies. He fed us lamb, which was both my first and last experience with it. I’m sure his flock?...gaggle?...or whatever probably had one less today than it did yesterday. He told us failure isn’t fatal—a proverb maybe. But I’m sure the sheep didn’t see it that way when it failed to avoid selection.

The kids here are wi~~~ ... Ignore that. Kid wanted my pen but settled for my sunglasses. I wasn’t terribly attached to them. The hinge was faulty, so they didn’t close right. Kid didn’t mind though. He furbished them up nicely with a center-mass thumb print as he slid them on. It must’ve been high fashion to him. He just grinned from ear to ear and ran off.

Which brings up something vital...I’m going to need another pair in the next care package. Nothing fancy! I’m serious. It would just be a waste. I’ll either smash them in a pocket or lose them when I’m accosted by the next herd of kids.

We’ve got a good group of guys and girls here, and trips like these are just good for the soul, you know? Our bond’s fraternal, and I doubt I’ll ever forget them. For some things, forgetting is painful.

Gotta go. Talk soon.

Yours truly,

Daniel

WC: 228

Feel free to check out earlier installments here:

Duality Collection

It's very simple.

You just start with some slood...

That story resembles this prompt only in that it also contains a lottery meant(ostensibly) to cull the population. It is not voluntary. Nobody gets any money. There is no one on one fight. There is no limitation based on net worth.

Okay, I read this twice and got creeped out a bit. I need an explanation! Are they cannibal farmers, and wow that's a pretty dark thing to think about.

I love your definition of Keeneeta! A nice take on the prompt.

Okay, this one got me. The questions are kind of unnerving and unresolved in a way that pulls my imagination-- gonna give it a lot of thought.

I just realised sapient has a definition - _attempting to appear wise_ and has _sensible_ as a synonym. I guess its appropriate that the aliens have decided we might be sensible...

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Hey, dogs are sentient. Had to raise the bar a little

sapient.. lol

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Check out “the lottery,” a short story by Shirley Jackson. She was a time traveler and wrote it in response to this promt in the 1940’s.

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Suggestion: there is no king, and hasn't been in decades. The "king" everyone sees is just whatever shapeshifter most recently got caught pretending to be the king and got roped into running the kingdom for a while.