Yep. It really is management’s fault. Unfortunately, customers do it anyway.

[removed]

"Dear god," I muttered to myself. I was tempted to flick on the outside camera, but I knew better than to use science here.

KNOCK KNOCK KNOCK

I opened the cabin door. "Hello, how can I help you today?"

"Yeah," the Hero said. "We have a problem."

"You've been having problems all your life. I'm not a magic problem solver." I retorted.

"I need your skills!" the Hero protested. "The Underdark is attempting to invade the overworld once more and destroy the balance of the-"

"I told you on Oorbous," I said in a low voice, "That, if you chose to return, we were done. You did you, I did me, and our time together was over. I have not forgotten, James, nor do I intend to. Unlike you, I am done with all this crap. Give me a planetary threat and I'll come out of retirement, and not a second sooner!"

"But the Underdark is a-"

"Do you know what a planetary threat is?" I asked, not giving him time to answer. "No, you do not. When it comes, you will, and then you can journey to my bunker and cottage here on this mountainside and pull my aging body back into the Refresh Cycle. Until then, leave." I slammed the door into his face.

Oorbous. Where it all started and ended. Where I had chose to protect, while the Hero had chosen neither, but to continue what he was doing. I had already wisened up that it wasn't enough, but even his best companion was unable to pull him out of his bubble.

I had joined organisations slowly getting society to advance again. Small inventions, like fire pillows, and large inventions, like lumber mills, were being introduced as fast as we could find audiences for them. I was old, hundreds of years thanks to the Refresh Cycle, and I was ready to retire and die.

-----

James had finally learned to stay away for over two years now. He would do his thing, and me mine, and I was finally relaxing. In the morning, I would-

Knock-knock-knock. Knock. Knock. Knock. Knock-knock-knock.

I jumped out of my bed sharply as I realized what I was hearing. Rushing to the door, I found James. "What now?" I grumbled.

James looked tired, as though he had spent the last month traveling without rest. So did the rest of his party. "XK," he said.

"What kind?"

"Alien invasion."

"Defenses?"

"None. They have antimagic in ways we have never seen."

"Public?"

"No."

"Foundation building up to it?"

"That's how I found out."

I sighed. "It's time I tell you why I chose what I did at Oorbous. Come inside. We have... a lot of talking to do. I'll cook something up." I smiled. "It's good to see a much saner James again, huh?"

He cracked a weary smile. "Yeah, well... it's been-"

"Don't." I said. "And don't just stand in the door all day."

I see. I didn’t realize the word “Jihad” could be used outside of an Islamic context.

I fight for Holy Azathoth the Father, Sha Ia Niggurath the Mother, and the Radiant Tentacles of Cthulhu.

Praise the tentacle

Embrace the tentacle

Or be smacked by a dimensionally translocated tentacle.

----------{Lynn Woods Reservation// 8 AM}----------

It's a beautiful fall morning in the middle of the woods. The sun is shining, the rivers are flowing, and a small bird finds its way onto a wooden window sill to sing its song. Until it nearly gets roasted by a ball of fire and flies off. Inside the wooden cabin a young woman buries herself into her blanket.

"Too early!" The woman groaned as she waved her finger, and the shades closed. The woman pulled her hand back under the sheet as she tried to get comfortable. Then there were several knocks at the door.

The woman sat up instantly, still covered in her blanket. She pulls it off to reveal her crazy long black hair, near white skin, and red eyes. She focused in on the front door. Suddenly there were four more knocks causing the woman to jump in her bed. The woman quickly crawled over the side of her bed and pulls out a pink robe to put on.

The woman slowly walks through her home towards the front door. Every few seconds the knocks at the door gets louder. The woman places her ear against the door and hears the mutterings of a high pitched voice. The woman places a hand behind her back, creating a fire ball. The woman opens the door, just enough to peep through.

Outside is a young, bronzed skinned woman, at least sixteen, dirty blonde hair, brown eye, and dressed in hiking gear. The teen meets the woman's gaze and the woman slams the door in a panic.

"Rude," said the teen.

"Quis es, et quid vis?!" said the woman, back against the door.

"Uhhh," the teen looked at the door in confusion. She walked over to a window and tried to look in before the blinds suddenly shut. "Hello, it's Victoria, I sent a letter." The woman grimaces before looking over at a pile of letters and magazines stacked on her coffee table.

"Sorry, I don't really get a lot of mail out here," said the woman. "What do you want? Are you lost or something?"

"I don't think so," said Victoria, "I'm looking for Wilda Belle, I was told she might live out here." The front door opens slowly. Victoria looks inside the darkened cabin and sees no one. "Nope." Victoria walks several feet away from the cabin. The woman peaks from behind the door and then walks out in a huff.

"What the hell!" the woman screamed.

"I'm not stupid," Victoria screamed back, "I'm not just gonna walk into some strange woman's dark cabin. How stupid do you think I am?"

"Stupid enough to walk out into the middle of the woods alone," the woman crossed her arms smugly.

"I have a phone," Victoria waved a smartphone in front of her.

"That I can promise you has no signal," said the woman. Victoria checks her phone and then groans. "Didn't really think this through did ya? What do you want with that old hag anyway?"

"Why should I tell you?" said Victoria.

"You wanted to find her, right?" said the old woman, "How do I know you're not some crazy person?"

"She's my...great grandma," said Victoria.

"Bull," The woman leered at Victoria.

"She is," yelled Victoria, "and I need to ask her about some stuff."

"About how you can see things that others can't?"the woman suddenly appeared behind Victoria in a loose orange T-shirt, green overalls, and hiking boots. Victoria jumped as she turned around.

"How did you..." Victoria slowly backed away from from the woman until she tripped landing on an old sofa. She looks around to find herself in the now lit cabin. The woman walks in, closing the door behind her.

[removed]

[removed]

"A relative you say?"

I stirred the orange liquid in my cauldron, throwing in a handful of enchanted aloe leaves. It hissed as they disappeared beneath the surface, bubbles rising from the reaction within. I continued the stirring with a large wooden spoon, looking up at the woman who had found me.

She wore a black skirt, the hem lengthened with spiderwebbed fabric. A corset style top covered her chest, equally black with a pair of white skulls. Her arms were uncovered, a tattoo of twisting vines running done her left shoulder to her elbow. With pale skin, and dark makeup, she had the appearance of a would be dead person.

"Yes, I am sure of it. My many times great-grandmother was your sister, Martha."

I thought of my long dead sister. She had not the spark I had, but it never bothered her. Brave and gentle, she had raised a good family. But her husband had decided he loved her no more. A cruel man, he spread lies of her being a witch. But the time I heard about it, and went to find her, she had already been put to the stake.

I pulled myself out of those dark memories. Even after all this time, I could picture her face perfectly. This woman, who claimed to be my relative, had a vague resemblance. Looks however, could be deceiving.

A glance at my brewing showed the bright orange to be deepening in colour now. Nodding to myself I set the spoon to stir itself, brushing my hands as I stepped around the cauldron. The woman watched it with wide eyes, as I moved away.

"Remind me, what is your name?"

She forced herself to look at me, adjusting her top.

"It's Sarah, Sarah Butcher."

I nodded, reaching for a shelf. It was a fairly empty one, with a few crystals and a worn bag. The bag was my target, or rather its contents. Dipping a hand in, I gathered up the stones within, gripping tight.

"May spirits guide the light, such that the truth shines bright."

With that I took out my hand, launching the stones through the air. They spun across the room, before settling into a large circle around us, lazily spinning. The runes I had engraved on them gave off a white light, as my spell activated.

"Show me Sarah Butcher."

The light on one rune was pulled away, surrounding Sarah. I nodded, pleased that her name was true.

"Show me Sarah Butcher's ancestors."

The glow around her vanished, instead creating a cloud-like apparition before me. On it I saw faces slip by, as each one of her past family was shown to me. I let it play, before seeing Martha appear.

"Show me the blood tie between us."

The cloud vanished, as a drifting red thread faded into view between us. It was thin, as to be expected through such time. But the thread was there, proving her to be of my kin.

"Show me Sarah Butcher's spark."

The thread shattered, coalescing into a small flame. At first it was yellow, as most were. But it flickered, going to red, then blue, before finally becoming green. I gave a small smile, letting the spell fade. I guided the rune stones back onto their bag, meeting Sarah's gaze.

"Is... is my spark not good enough? Is it too small?"

I gave her a light chuckle, shaking my head.

"Ah, the spark. The size is not the issue dear. Its the colour I need. Yours is green, the colour of life. The colour of nature. The colour of witches."

It had been a long time since I had had an apprentice. It had been a long time since I had heard of a new member to the Coven. The Trials had sent us into hiding. Maybe it was time to take our first steps outside of it.

"I would be happy to teach you our ways."

Blasting out that primordial soup I see

I tried to figure out where Jihad fit in

iPhones too

I absolutely love world you’ve built here, and the system of Spans is intriguing. Masterful work as always!

Yeah I know but I tried 😂 morbid little factoid: the number I used for the weight of the "organic material" was actually calculated by the average percent of female to male body weight and how many (i assumed this part) passengers would be male and female

Cool take

That's cool I'll have to see

Dude I laughed so hard when I read your name lol

big migraine

If that snake gets pissed off and throws a tantrum, would it be considered to be a bit…viperactive?

[removed]

I:

Tick-Tock. Tick-tock.

The people within and without the Great Marketplace waited with bated breath, all eyes on the clock tower in the square.

Tick-tock. Tick-tock.

The tension grew as the clock's hour hand edged towards the golden sigil at the apex of its face.

Tick-tock. Tick-tock.

The eager merchants made last-minute adjustments to the carefully displayed and positioned wares laid out in their stalls. Their just as eager patrons shifted from foot to foot excitedly, just outside the market gates.

GONNNG

The clock's ornate hand fell upon the Sigil of Wealth, tolled a clear note upon its great brazen bells, and the marketplace guards threw open the gates. The people rushed in, quick but orderly, and the merchants began calling out to them, loud and bold, yet still respectful. Any patron who battered or shoved another, and any merchant who was obnoxious in hawking his wares, would be seized by the guards, and barred from the market during the Span of Wealth for a year and day. No one wanted to risk that. Far better to risk losing out on a good trade today, than to risk that long exile from the Great Marketplace -- especially since you could always try your luck again tomorrow.

For during this special Span, a subtle magic was laid upon the world that nudged fate in the direction of abundance, and ever so slightly bent the laws governing reality towards largesse. Not always, but once in a while, a minor miracle would occur, when trade was conducted at this time:

Sometimes a patron would make his purchases, and he would find that the coins he'd given the merchants had somehow not diminished the number of coins that he held in his pouch. Similarly, a merchant would sometimes find that the coins in his coffers at the end of the Span were somehow well in excess of those that he'd made selling his wares.

As the people went about their business, hoping for one of those infrequent blessings, above them all stood that shining clock tower, and the patrons moved, and the merchants moved, and the world itself moved, according to the ticking of the Terelandrian Clock.

Long ago, Terelandrius the Great, the immortal mage whose understanding of time and space was said to have grown so vast that the passage of time no longer aged him, had given his wondrous masterworks to the world freely.

Every great city in the world had been given one of his glorious clock towers, every small town had been presented with one of his standing pedestal clocks for the town square, and even the larger farming villages had been gifted with intricate wall clocks to place upon the wall of the local tavern.

As a result, almost all civilized folk lived according to the Spans, the mystical segments of time delineated by the Terelandrian Clock, that were auspicious for doing one thing or another. Trading of course, was best done during the Span of Wealth. Likewise, work done on planting and harvesting was most fruitful when it took place during the Span of Growth, as were the amorous exertions of couples who wished to be blessed with children. The work of craftsmen and artisans was at its finest when it was done during the Span of Making, and the creations of artists and scholars were most inspired in the Span of Mind.

None doubted the benign nature of the Clock. How could they? The great wizard, otherwise aloof from worldly affairs, had asked nothing in return for his gifts, and indeed the histories recorded that when he first bestowed them, he openly swore upon his name and his magical power that he would never ask repayment from the people of the world.

Moreover, the subtle magics of the Clock seemed utterly harmless -- Terelandrius had not, after all, made any Spans well suited for war, strife, or suffering. A belligerent king might have spears and arrows crafted during the Span of Making, true, but then so too could his enemies craft shields and armor during that same time.

And the blessings of the Clock were applied equally to all the people of the world, favoring no nation or kingdom above another: each of the four spans recurred across the clock multiple times per day, so that no matter where on the globe you were, you had a fair chance to benefit from each Span at least once during the day. The only singular point on the clock was the smallest Span of all, the one that existed at the bottom of the clock face: The Span of Renewal. This Span lasted only as long as the time between tick and tock, and occurred all over the world at once.

It was scarcely remarked upon by most, who experienced it only as a transient moment of malaise, as though they had dozed off for a second or two and then come back to their senses. Then it was gone, and the clock moved on to the next Span in order. This, Terelandrius had explained when he presented his clocks to the world, was when the magic of the Terelandrian Clock recharged itself, so the Spans could begin again.

Those who lived in lands where it was night when the Span of Renewal occurred hardly knew it existed at all, as they were either already asleep when it happened, or if not it simply blended into the ordinary fatigue at the end of the day's labor. It could occasionally be inconvenient, and obliged folk to try not to do anything extremely delicate or important at that precise moment, but otherwise it seemed as harmless as everything else about the Clock. All believed this was true for centuries.

The first to doubt it was a man named Martin -- Martin, the watchmaker.

Finally! As you strip off the last of the painters tape, you can finally say you are done with your mountain retreat. It was a side project you started early in you career, and as the years rolled up, many of the plans updated, your mountain retreat is done.

Having now retired, he used was done. A nice shower later to to wash off the sweat and finally done. In your comfy clothes, you finally find ready to relax. Finally using that coffee machine and a recipe you bookmarked on tiktok and finally sitting down to finally break into your first book on your long reading list (Will Wight... don't judge me!) you prepare for retirement.

*BOOM BOOM BOOM*

Your sigh is audible and long suffeing. Looking at your security system, you see something you dreaded. Omega Lady. And she looks to be looking for a fight.

"Can I help you?" you ask, trying to sound as pleasant as you can to an unwelcomed guest

"Come out and face me! How dare you build a lair here! Fight me! I won't let you threaten the city from this keep!" Omega Lady yelled, looking for where the voice was coming from. Confused since she couldn't see cameras, or speakers.

"What are you talking about? Threatening? Please leave my property."

"This mountain is not your property! Get out here you fiend!"

"Um yes. It is. Bought from the government, legally. So please leave"

Omega Lady just floated there a bit, actually she dropped a few inches, looking flabbergasted.

"Wha... What?? How? With your ill gotten gains? You thief! I will break into your lair and bring you to justice!"

You let the silence play out... in fact you actually pumped some white noise through the speakers, just to highlight it.

"Do you have a warrant? Or evidence? What are you on?"

Omega Lady actually sounded surprised. "Warrant? No! but look at this! a mountain stronghold! on a mountain overlooking the city in the valley! You are a fiend and villian! Submit to..."

You BLAST a loud horn out the hidden speakers.

"I am at my abode, duly filed with the city, with blueprints approved. On my mountain, bought from the government. So you are now trespassing on my property... and while I do see you floating, I will note that this also includes the airspace around it. This "lair" as you call it, is insulting as I spent years building this retirement abode. Now you and I may have had some epic battles, but that was in the past, I am now retired, and you are interfering in my retirement. No please leave before I call the police on you... and won't that be embarrassing"

Omega Lady look, for lack of a better term, gobsmacked... She actually landed and just stared.

"But your crimes! And how can you afford this! Through ill gotten gains!..."

"As much as you like being pompus and sanctimonious, I will let you in on some information. And I suggest you go with the proper authorities before slandering me. Any all crimes have been pardoned, on the condition of my retirement, which I do intend to honor. As for gains? I did have a life outside or little... arguments. All my taxes are paid and my money is mine completely earned cleanly, as much as it makes you tighted your arse in those, admittedly fashionable tights. So please leave and go bother someone else."

Omega Lady was stunned, then looked like she couldn't believe this. She got an intense look and then flew off. You managed to catch her putting her finger to her ear and mouthing something, probably making a call.

Smiling you go back to your new living room, grabbing your coffee and finally sitting down, with a smile before cracking open Unsouled. You look around at what you built, with your pardon hanging on the wall (yes asking for a copy to frame was maybe cliche but hey it was earned) along with you shaking hands with some world leaders, a picture that you agreed to never release, taken in private.

Yes everything you said was correct. You invested money from some creations you patented and sold and that is how you could afford all this. And you will continue to do so. Not the violent ones that caused danger and destruction. The ones that were necessary to help people. A weird duality you devoloped. As for the pardon, well, it was sure a coincidence that Omega was away from the world was threatened. And as much as you didn't like heroes, when the government came to you, with distaste asking you to help from a very dangerous threat, you agreed. You did have some family, and you agreed on the conditions for a pardon, the mountain to be bought (you were already building this place so might as make it fair) and filing the bluprints of this place with them (most of them, had to keep SOME things from them, for old times sake. You also agreed to retire, so they can get a win.

You didn't want notiriety or applause. No you really are looking to retire. Ok maybe if a villiain wants some advice you will do so, but yeah. This is the best outcome. Maybe in a few years you might feel the urge to conquer the world, but that is done and you just want to maybe live and play with your nieces and nephews who you just got to know. Retirement can be good. Now if only Omega Lady can be convinced to let him be. Or should he say Helen. His sister in law is a great person in her civilian persona, but seriously family shouldn't fight. Glad his mask and voice modifiers kept his secret identity.

Something about haunted starships in scary narratives makes me go yeahhhh.

Things are happening out there.

Man, this is haunting