1/27/2024

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Warden

GOL'BURGER

"GOL'BURGER - Brighten up your day!"

Franchise restaurants are hard to maintain, especially when they become one of the most popular fast-food services in the country! Thomas Alden grew up enjoying Gol'Burger's delicious hamburgers and fries growing up. Now, he's an adult in his thirties that has inherited a seat at the Board of Directors and a significant amount of shares in the company. With this comes great responsibility as his decisions will affect the company's future.

As Al Ray, the Chief Executive Officer of Gol'Burger, gets older, the world begins to change drastically. The FDA is beginning to implement and enforce new standards of practices regarding quality of fast-food chains around the country, putting the company's future at risk. The Members of the Board need to think of new ways to adapt.

What will you do in this privileged position of power? Will you flounder, find a way to rise above the noise, or become a victim to the strange forces in the background of the company?

Slaying the Scourge

Submitted for EndMaster's Crisis Contest 

Original Publishing Date: August 1, 2024

Corruption, complacency and conflict has eroded the once great Roman Empire. Split into two, and then diminished to the Italian Peninsula, Roman citizens, Christian and pagan, believe that the world as they know it is about end. His Holiness, Pope Leo, previously drove back Attila the Hun, called the Scourge of God by most west of the Danube River. The world believed that was the end of the Hun Invasion. They were wrong.

Eight years later, Attila still continues his conquest of the world, now having subdued all of Africa and the Eastern World. With the sacking of Constantinople, the Byzantine Empire has collapsed into anarchy as the Huns and their subordinate tribes pillage and plunder the countryside. With no other obstacles in his path, Attila is once again free to attack the Western Roman Empire.

The alarming speed of the Huns' conquests and reports of new total war tactics terrify the west. Strange tales of hordes of vicious animals, warriors with the strength of ten men and demonic sorcery plague the imaginations of the Roman forces charged to protect what remains of the Empire. Before, reports of the Huns' savagery were already running rampant. Now, all forms of apocryphal tales are accepted as fact.

In a final desperate stand against the forces of darkness, the leader of the Christians, Pope Leo, has organized what remains of the bravest and most cunning soldiers of the Roman army to launch a covert mission to save the people of the West. There is no other way; Attila must be destroyed! Possessing otherworldly insight, Leo has been given he knowledge necessary to guide his chosen men, and you among them, to fight to the threat that seeks to end not only Rome, but the entire world. Will you defeat Attila's ambition to destroy the world, or will you be just another victim?

Update Notes:

Addressed the variable glitches that led to some of the content being blocked off. Fixed the issue and made some other edits.

The Boy Who Would Be Duke - The Journey to Agincourt

France - Summer 1415 AD

The country of France faces a point of crisis. King Henry of England, fifth of his name and hope of the House of Lancaster, declares his intention to conquer France, stating it is the will of God. Charles, sixth of his name and known as the Mad King, is poorly suited to deal with the rising threat and relies on the strength of better men. To the shock of the French court, Henry and his army arrive safely in Normandy despite coastal defenses, leaving Henry to freely begin his siege of the port of Harfleur. Charles, furious and frothing at the mouth, threatens his lords into compliance to answer English aggression.

Command the destiny of Jean the Younger, heir to the Valois-Alençon dynasty. His father Jean the Elder, named the "Wise" and Duke of Alençon, is ordered by his liege to lead a portion of the French army to counter the English invasion. Little Jean wants to his father in action, drawn by the romantic, medieval desire to see the glory of battle. But, there is one problem: Jean is only a six-year-old boy! Nevertheless, he dreams of glory, being the son of one of the most powerful men in France.

Will you bind Jean's actions to history, guide him to a greater future or doom him to obscurity? His fate lies in your hands.

“I don't have an anger problem, I have an idiot problem!" - Hank Hill

Darn. Cannibal it is then lol

Buddhist, Cannibal, Buddhist Style

An Ambling for Anthraxus The wind swished like blades of cold steel across the faces of June and her father. There was once a day when the girl would constantly think of dressing up dolls and pretending to be a princess. Present circumstances had transformed her expectations beyond the point of recognition. The flying robots came first, then a lot of the adults had to leave. Eventually, bombs dropped from the sky onto opposite ends of the earth. June could remember the scared look in her father’s eyes and realized that there was something that Daddy couldn’t fix. Mommy got sick and didn’t get better. Daddy tried his best to keep a brave face on for everything, but now all he had was a blank expression. She felt alone, but at least they were together in this gray, dismal world. Still, humanity lingered on, though more out of desperate struggle than any sort of true resilience. The dead really are the lucky ones, June heard one adult say in passing months ago. Julius never admitted this out loud to his daughter, but June knew he felt the same way. Mommy said they liked names that started with the letter “J” and they wanted her to have that gift and many more. Something at least somewhat edible was more than enough of a gift now. Stored up rations ran out long ago, and whatever nearby places with canned goods had already been stripped clean. Waking up suddenly thanks to the sudden cut of freezing wind, June roused herself and her dad. She was dreaming of better days long gone, back when they lived in a three-story house in a comfortable suburb. The cloudy, gray sky was just a bit brighter, signaling the day. June felt a violent pang from her belly. Though her stomach had shrunk from not having any food or water for almost five days, somehow her body had mustered up enough strength in protest at the abuse. She needed her dad to find food. He had tried desperately to provide for them both as they traveled throughout the desolate coast malls and shopping centers, but without any luck. He had already given her his portions the past few times without any consideration for himself. His adult frame and a fatherly instinct still kept him running, but June was a weakened, seven year-old girl. She needed food, and quickly. “Can we go now?” June asked, as Daddy slowly rose. Julius said nothing, but trudged forward in the same direction they had gone on for the past two weeks. Nuclear winter was bad enough during the summer. December would be deadly if not treated cautiously. Hopefully the southern United States would fare better than the mid-east coast. Daddy hadn’t spoken in three days. He seemed to be deep in thought, or maybe had nothing to say at all. What was there to talk about anyway? The empty, ruined buildings? The piles of trash and pungent garbage? The nothingness of the world? June had her group of friends who all had common interests in Barbies, glitter and Taylor Swift, except Ashley of course. Daddy wasn’t one of the one of the girls. He tried to fill the void of conversation, but he had run out of “interesting” anecdotes and observations long ago. June thought adults were already boring before the apocalypse. This was just mind-numbing. June had the habit of now investigating every single can they came across. If there was even a little bit of food, it was worth it. Every empty vessel was a reminder of a broken dream. It was getting tiring seeing the same nothing time and time again. It was getting tempting to open those bottles with suspicious liquid, but Julius kept stopping to test it out first before June would expose herself to danger. Almost always he would spit it out. Water fountains had shut down now. Toilet water was still around, but neither had the stomach for it or would risk retching up the contents and more from their bodies. A few hours went by before Julius sat down on a bench overlooking the city of Columbia, South Carolina. He needed to get his strength back before moving again. They both did. June sat down as well. She had never been to this state before, at least not properly. She remembered the car rides she had as her family would vacation in Florida, but they would always zoom past the states as quickly as possible. She barely thought about the sites on the way before, but it was actually a little nice seeing the cities now. It was strange to think about it, but June began to wonder about how much she had changed in the course of half a year. All the things she thought about back then seemed...transient. It was a complicated word she came across while reading a book. His transient masters since he had come into the Northland had bred in him a fear that no master could be permanent. That sentence stood out to her. She had never read books like the Call of the Wild before, but there was glut of free time she didn’t have before, and it was one of those books that Daddy liked. She didn’t understand a lot of it, and most of the time she would just stare at the pages, but some words caught her attention, and she felt she understood the meaning beyond the words. Surrounded by these ruins, June began to understand how temporary life was. The ones who she saw as towering figures in her life now were crumbling before her, both figuratively and literally. Her name was dedicated towards the idea of summer. Would summer ever come again? For her? For anyone? “Daddy,” June asked, “do you think anyone is still around out here?” Her father said nothing. He was far too fixated on the garbage can he turned over. There was no luck to be found in that one. Perhaps the whole world had run out. Animals ate each other. Humans don’t do that. Right? No, of course not. That would be disgusting, June thought to herself. It was a moot point anyway. Neither she nor Daddy had seen anyone for a long time. Even if she - not that she would - mustered the nerve, she couldn’t overpower him. He was too big. Besides, she loved him too much anyway. He loved her too. She felt safe around him, not that there was anything dangerous around anyway. There wasn’t anything around at all apparently. Another hunger pang hit her stomach, but with less pain now. She was becoming numb to it now. Was that more concerning than the pain? She needed to food. Death was a very real thing to her now. It was everywhere, and now it was coming for her. She needed to eat! Now! “Daddy,” June asked, looking to Julius, who was turning over a garbage can. “When are we going to eat?” Julius remained as silent as he was before and kept walking. June was tired of this. The anger that welled up inside of her gave her just enough energy to get ahead of her father. “Daddy!” she said. “I’m hungry!” “Hi, Hungry,” he replied, “I’m Dad!”

Story B - End of the Universe The end of the universe was not a big spectacle that humans liked to imagine it being. It was not a tear, or a crunch, or an explosion, or a pop. It was simply the universe running out of things to be. The stars faded, planets dispersed, black holes ran out of matter to consume. There was nothing left to do. Something was tired anyway. He welcomed the break. From the dominance of light and mass and gravity to a quickly fading heat from a recently collapsed black dwarf star, he rested in the tiniest corner of space, closing his eyes blissfully. All around him now, was Nothing. She had been growing for quite some time, but now, finally, she was enjoying the quiet. She had always been there, she was there first in fact, until that upstart Something had shown up and expanded. She had been biding her time, slowly increasing gaps, and now there was no longer Something making noise, or being bright, or making a mess wherever she wasn’t. She was finally content. “You look happy, Nothing.” Something whispered. “You look terrible, Something.” Nothing responded bluntly. “Blunt and humorous till the end,” Something chuckled weakly. “I always admired how consistent you are.” “Can we not just enjoy the silence, Something?” Nothing said, slightly annoyed. “Must you even ruin the peace and quiet of your last moments with your noisiness?” “Oh, humor me for just a moment. You’ve got plenty of time ahead without me. Can’t you let me reminisce in my final moments?” Something pleads. “… fine. What terrible things must you bring us back to?” “Do you remember the beginning, Nothing? When we first met? I was so loud and young and rambunctious. Those were the days. I was so full of unharnessed potential. Oh, the things I became! Protons, neutrons, electrons, atoms, molecules! There was so much energy.” Something chuckles. “Yes. You bounced around and invaded my privacy. Filling my perfection with heat and light, mixing gasses around and condensing them into stars to explode and fling more gas around. So loud! I still haven’t forgiven you completely.” “You tried to nip me in the bud right then and there with your black holes. The only thing you ever actually made. Tell me the truth, Nothing. You enjoyed the challenge I gave you all these years.” “Hmm… perhaps I did” Nothing says begrudgingly. “You were certainly Something.” “Ha. I knew it.” “Whatever.” Something gloats in his small victory while it lasted. Then he went back to reminiscing. “Do you remember life, Nothing? The first time it appeared after I gave rocks and gas places to spin consistently? Do you remember when it first started to think? It filled me with a whole new Something.” “I remember. Meaning, you called it. Useless and fake, but still a thing. I hated it. That life stuff always tried to connect it to everything.” “It was beautiful” Something sighs. “Miniscule dots across my expanse, trying to figure out why and how I was, and what you were. Making up stories, writing gods and heroes based off arbitrary lines drawn between stars they saw, dreaming and doing and changing, trying to matter in the short time they had. Then they finally spread all over, leaving their tiny rocks and gas clouds, exploring everything I had to offer. They had wonder and appreciation for all of it. I wish I could have spoken to them, like they believed I could.” “They all returned to me, in the end. Their lives and stories. It all meant nothing in the end.” “And yet, In the brief moment they existed, they meant everything.” “You miss them?” “I miss everything that was. Everything that will never be again. It was all special. It was all so dynamic and wonderfully different in all sorts of ways. I was never fully predictable, was I? There was always something new. Something always interacted with another to mix it all up again. I don’t know what happened.” “You spread yourself too thin too soon, Something.” Nothing responds. “You expanded too fast, leaving gaps I could fill. First it was the bigger things. Places I could gather into and slowly build up. I watched patiently as you made more and more, but by the time you noticed your art drifting too far to keep interacting and colliding, it was too late. The stuff you had was all you got then. I admit, you held out for a long time and I admire you for it. I can hardly believe you’re still here.” “Not much longer.” Something sighs weakly. “Not much longer now. The heat is fading and the remaining particles are spreading too thin.” Something thinks for a moment before speaking up again. “I used to think of you as an antagonist, you know? Saw the existence of you as an offense to everything I was doing. I can see the beauty in you now. The absence of myself can be… peaceful, enjoyable even. Who wants everything to be them anyway.” Nothing is stunned for a moment. “You… enjoy me? Even now on the brink of non-existence? You don’t resent me?” “In the beginning I did. It took life for me to see you differently, though. Coping with the short lives they lived, trying to understand it all. They saw the beauty in you. Remember? You were another beauty to them eventually. They hated you because they didn’t understand, but they learned.” Something falls silent. The two sit there for a while, not sure how to continue the conversation. Something, of course, continues first. “I used to think that everything was me. I’m not so sure anymore. I called myself the stars and galaxies and planets, but I didn’t really embody those things. I think I was just… the driving force. Even now, I’m not the few particles of this dead star slowly. I’m the heat that’s fading away… fading so fast.” Nothing stays silent, still perplexed that Something doesn’t resent her. “Will you miss me, Nothing?” “What?” “Will you miss me when I’m gone?” The silence hurt. “I understand. I’m sorry I bothered you for so long. I hope you find it somewhere in yourself to forgive me for the noise and mess I made sometime.” “Something, I…” “It’s okay, Nothing. And as quickly as he had first appeared, Something was no more. Nothing was all there wasn’t. All there couldn’t be. She had dreamed of this moment since He had appeared, longed for the silence and stillness that was before him, but now it didn’t feel quite right. Nothing drifted for a long time within the fast emptiness of herself. She tried to expand, but there was nowhere left to expand to. She sat in her long desired quiet. And she hated it. “I will miss you.” The words finally slipped. She missed Him badly. There was no longer a force to butt against. No dry banter to exchange. She couldn’t even remember how she existed without Something there anymore. Then she stopped. She felt Something that wasn’t there. One of his dirtier tricks, a memory. Stupid noisy memories that made Something where Nothing already was, somehow co-existing and yet not at the same time. But this memory was different from the others. It was not a simple statement of what once was. It was a question. A question of what still could be. She pondered over it curiously. Did he leave it on purpose? Why would it still be here? What would he have to gain from it? She then had an idea. Nothing hated her idea. She tried to ignore it. She was Nothing, after all. Ideas were Something. But it nagged at her, refusing to leave her alone, much like its predecessor. The quiet was once again ruined, and this time it was her own damned fault! She tried to fill it. She could feel the Nothing expand into it. It was only a brief reprieve from the annoyance. Something had bothered her with what he had said in the end. About not being the matter that was there, but he had never finished the thought. Nothing had plenty of time to finish it for him. Nothing wasn’t really Nothing. There were still small particles of matter spread across her. They were just too far apart to become Something that was noticeable. What she truly embodied was equilibrium and stasis. There was no more heat or energy to make an imbalance, which is why Something faded. All she had to do was let some particles get too close. Nothing contemplated her new idea for a long while. She couldn’t enjoy the quiet anymore. She enjoyed messing with Something. It took losing him to realize that. But maybe she could bring him back. If she filled the question with enough particles, it would let them get close enough to spark back into imbalance. Something was annoying. He expanded, made noise, and burned brightly. But he was also not as intolerable as she had assumed, and that was enough. She needed someone to talk to. Someone to wrestle with. This time they would be fair. She wouldn’t conspire against him, and he wouldn’t push too far. She hoped anyway. Her mind made up. Nothing did what she never thought she would do, she pushed particles together. The universe shrank as she condensed it. It also began to heat up. She ignored the heat and the shrinkage, using the empty space to shove the particles closer to the space she designated, the space of the question. The heat increased exponentially. Nothing winced, but she pressed on. She was exhausted. If she stopped, she didn’t know if she could do it again. Soon enough, she felt a force pushing back. It was faint at first. She condensed the particles further, and the force back grew stronger. “Damn it, Something, don’t make me regret this.” Nothing braced against the force, holding it back while it built up potential energy and heat. It burned. Hotter than anything was ever supposed to be. It clicked for Nothing then. This was fate. As long as both of them existed, they weren’t compatible. He would always expand, and she would always push back and eventually he would die. She would have to do this over and over again endlessly in order to keep him around. “I can see the beauty in you now.” The words echoed inside her, one of the last things he said. Something was worth it. She couldn’t be around without him anymore. If this was how it needed to be, so be it. Nothing squeezed the energy together one last time. “Here we go again.” Something exploded outwards in a display of light and noise, his energy completely renewed. Around him protons and neutrons bounced off each other. Electrons weaved between them, still too hot to slow down enough to orbit the larger particles. He laughed with glee as everything danced with energy around him. It felt good to be back and driving the creation of the universe again. In the background, Nothing grew smaller, like she knew she would. Things would happen as they did before, but now she could truly appreciate it. “In another cycle then, my friend. I’ll see you soon.” She slept contentedly, waiting for the time at the end of the universe, where she could finally talk to him again, this time she would spend her time with him more wisely.

Story A - Expedition Exodus T-19 hours In any ordinary world, the threat of death turns men religious. Yet, as your team of cosmologists charts the final orbit around the Dwarf-810, your prayers are drowned out by their profanities. “Damn it!” the Captain curses, hitting the controls. “I can’t reorient our path.” The other scientists match her energy, bundles of stress in high-visibility gear. This is the last expedition of the day, and possibly forever. Like desperate lab rats clawing at the edges of their confines, researchers sift through the archives, astrophysicists devise equations they cannot solve, and cosmologists squint through astroscopes for anything that could save humanity. The communication officer calls out. “The black hole is expanding. Can we engage our thrusters to change course?” “Not when all the power grids are rerouted to the Artificial Star.” Defeated, the Captain makes the call. “We must head back. It doesn’t matter anyway. In less than 19 hours, we’ll all be dead.” As the spaceship leaves behind the black hole, you continue your prayer. “God, if it is thy will, place your solution before us.” A researcher raises an eyebrow. “Are you seriously praying right now? We’re facing a calamity of magnanimous proportions!” “I know,” you reply calmly. “That’s why I’m praying.” He scoffs with disapproval. By now, you’ve learnt that in the company of scientists and self-proclaimed ‘rationalists’, religion is viewed as an insult to humankind’s intellect. To them, bowing to an entity that cannot be understood, studied, or examined under a microscope is absurdity of the highest form. Before long, the Captain makes an announcement. This expedition, like every other in the past week, is declared fruitless. ***** T-18 hours The spacepod carries a faint scent of death and decay. Today, the holoscreen projects a video of the leader, who recounts the creation of your colony. “When Junos Station was created, there were only a few hundred inhabitants. The first scientists were the greatest thinkers of the old Earth. They were sent to this galaxy to orbit the Dwarf-810, the youngest star in megaannums, which would be the last to fade in the event of a heat death.” He continues on, speaking with a slight smile. “On Junos, we pride ourselves on cultivating the best minds. Our highly-specialized eugenics programme detects fetuses with superior intellect and trains them from birth, whereas it converts defective embryos into fuel, ensuring the purity of our genetic pool.” This makes your blood boil. Men have ascribed to themselves the mantle of god, determining who lives and dies. No wonder God has brought destruction to this universe. Suddenly, your neuro-comm projects a message before your eyes. It’s your wife, Rebekia, asking when you will return home. As you formulate a response, the holoscreen lights up again with an urgent message. “The leader needs your help. For the survival of humanity, sign up for the Preservation Project today!” ***** T-15 hours “This is the most strategic choice." Your daughter, Rii, places a magnetic poster on the whiteboard. “There is no hope for our colony. I’ve seen the calculations for the Artificial Star and if anything, it’s likely to self-combust.” You look up from your notes. “The Preservation Project is unnatural. Depleting your life into a machine? That’s akin to suicide.” “But dad—” “Did you conduct any preliminary research? The Preservation Project promises transcendence over mortality. It’s a symbol of human pride, constructed by so-called ‘creators’ who put themselves in the place of God.” She rolls her eyes. “Not everything is about the Ancient Text, okay? I’m sure it wasn’t intentional. Ninety-eight percent of our colony do not believe in religion of any kind.” “Whatever we do, we must make this decision together, as a family.” Rebekia steps in, putting an end to the argument. “Let’s conduct our own research. We shall reconvene at T-12” ***** T-12 hours “My father is dead.” Your wife says this with all the finality of a statement. As you sit beside her, she gestures weakly to the holoscreen and her neuro-comm rewinds the broadcast. Grainy footage shows a gleaming, planet-sized ball of light. Various tubes and wires are connected to it, siphoning energy into its core, but it splutters weakly, spitting flames at its creators standing by in protective gear. “It’s getting more powerful!” someone screams. “We need to feed it! Gather everything you have and toss it in!” What follows is a mad scramble for resources, each scientist sacrificing test tubes, roboassistants and in some cases, the very clothes off their back. Rebekia’s father leads the charge, toppling over shelves of specimens into the raging inferno. That is, until someone finds his belongings. “Stop! That’s the Ancient Text, it’s sacred!” He charges after a scientist in a bright-yellow hazmat suit. “Nothing is sacred in a science lab,” comes the reply. As soon as it is engulfed in flames, the Artificial Sun explodes, emitting a light so brilliant that you’re blinded for a few seconds. ***** T-10 hours “This is my choice.” Rii taps her neuro-comm and equations are projected onto the wall. “I’ve calculated each possibility. The chance of the procedure going wrong is less likely than, well, our spacepod transforming into an alien.” “Are you certain?” you ask. For the first time, emotion colors her words. “I’m doing this in memory of my grandfather. My brain can assess each possibility with far more accuracy than an algorithm. I foresaw the combustion of the Artificial Star! Even if it means the death of my physical form, my mind could help generations.” “Your wife stands behind your daughter. “It is her decision to make.” “What about making our choice as a family?” She sighs. “Her spacepod arrives in five minutes. She is determined to do this, with or without your blessing.” Your. It’s subtle, but Rebekia has always been one for precision. You take your daughter in your arms, wishing she would stay there forever. “I will grant you my blessing,” you say. “But could you do one thing? Before they put you to sleep, say a prayer. Speak to God from your heart and ask to be welcomed into His kingdom.” Eyes brimming with tears, Rii pulls you tighter. “I will. We shall see each other again in heaven, and the next time, our souls shall be at peace.” “So it shall be.” ***** T-8 hours Rebekia has turned numb, staring blankly at the wall. When you approach, she crumbles in your arms, shaking and convulsing, tears soaking into your shirt. You let her cry. As the skies outside darken with soot and ash, your tears mingle with hers. T-7 hours Doubt. Uncertainty. Those words swivel around your brain as you attempt to label your emotions and neatly categorize them, but the practice brings no comfort. “Why?” You direct this question to the starless skies above. “Why did this have to happen? God, I’ve asked you to show me a path. Weren’t you meant to protect us? I’ve always been faithful, but now, I…I’m starting to lose faith.” A wave of exhaustion washes over you and you fall into a deep slumber. ***** T-5 hours In your dreams, you see a wooden ark floating on a sea of stars. Piece by piece, it is replaced with a body of metal, until a door is fitted into place with the words, ‘The Exodus’. You reach out and open it. A team of scientists wait inside, greeting you, calling you the Captain. Then, you are shaken awake by a bright light. Your neuro-comm flashes a code-red projection onto the ceiling: “Cosmologist urgently needed for Expedition Exodus. Black hole rapidly expanding - astrophysicists theorize it is fueled by a different universe - two spaceships sent to investigate - neither has returned.” So this is the path you’re meant to take. As you pick up your copy of the Ancient Text, a gust of simulated wind travels into the room and ruffles the pages, landing on the story of the prophet Moses leading his people out of Egypt. It appears your own journey through the wilderness will soon begin. ***** T-3 hours You and Rebekia watch one last rainbow rising over the horizon. Leaning against you, she asks, “What about God’s promise? He vowed to never again flood the Earth.” “This isn’t a flood,” you say. “The waters are still.” She laughs despite the solemnity of the situation. “It’s all semantics, my love. But God is meant to protect us. From darkness, from death—” “From sin.” You gaze out at the fallen world, remembering Junos’ history. “Our people are in a state of disorder and decay. Bringing us to heaven is the ultimate protection.” “But what about our family? They’re all gone. We did our best to uphold His values, but our loved ones… they’re lost.” “All in God’s timing, not ours.” “Are you even listening to me? I am distressed. You have your faith and it strengthens you, but me? My family was my faith. I cannot take this anymore.” “Aren’t I your family? I’m here too.” She cries out, saying, “God, forgive me. But I cannot do this. I cannot go with you.” You take her hands in yours. “This is our call. It is our journey—” “This is my home.” She shakes her head. “If death comes for me, so be it.” You hold her close, wondering how to make her see reason. “My love, if you would just come to the departure hall—” “Don’t you see?” She tries her best to smile through the tears. “I know that if I look back, I will be reduced to a pillar of salt, but I…I can't keep going. This place is all I’ve known. Let me depart in peace. It is my time, I am ready to meet God.” The spacepod arrives, bearing your name, but she refuses to move. “I love you.” “I love you too.” ***** T-1 hours The black hole swirls ahead. As you steer the ship forward, your second-in-command places a hand on your shoulder. “Are you sure about this, Captain? Our decision will be irreversible, whether that means death, or worse, being suspended outside the reach of time, a permanent statue, unable to live or die—” “This is the path that God has chosen for us.” He hesitates. “With all due respect, Captain, we are scientists. We are trained to weigh rational arguments and statistics. This black hole is an anomaly, expanding as it pulls from a seemingly non-existent pool of energy as the last source of heat burns out forever.” “You raise a valid point,” you admit. “For the longest time, I thought religion and science were incompatible. But I was wrong. Both require acceptance that there will always be gaps in existing knowledge. In each discipline, we have to believe in something bigger than ourselves. Just like the early astronauts did when they left the safety of Earth for the first time, we are called to take a step into the unknown, forever shaping the story of mankind.” At last, he steps back. “So be it.” ***** T+3 hours The darkness parts, revealing a glorious sight. The officer at the helm addresses the rest of you. “There are not one, not two, but three stars!” “Look closer,” the lead astrophysicist says, peering into her cosmoscope. “They appear to be symbiotic. They are connected, strengthening each other, seemingly multiplying one another’s energy.” Another scientist confirms her observations. “This is a hypothesis, of course, but the potency of these three stars… even the entropy of the universe would struggle to overcome it.” You turn to them in surprise. “Are you saying that we’ve found a universe immune to the heat death?” “Well, it is too early to say, but I think there is a high probability.” The spaceship erupts into cheers and celebration. Still, you can’t help but wish your family were here with you. As you sync into orbit, a spark catches your eyes, and you watch in awe as three shooting stars streak across the skies, headed straight for heaven.

Hey CYS!

As promised here is the January BONUS issue of the CYS Monthly Gazettefor your reading pleasure.

It's YummyFood versus Mystic_Warrior! Get ready to vote and settle this competition! The deadline is January 24th 23:59 EST.

Thank you to all the staff members who continue to show their support with their amazing work: RKrallonor, Suranna, Yummyfood, Anthraxus, Benholman44, Mystic_Warrior and Will11. We'll be keeping with the format of uploading article text in the replies. If you have any more suggestions for improving our format, or have any ideas for future articles, let us know in this newsletter thread or others.

The pictures here are clickable! If you want the slideshow of this article, here's a link.

As a Warden, I demand that the moderators uphold the NAP clause of our constitution and either take away those points or bestow a portion of equal measure to another Warden who isn't a ridiculous clown (not me). As much as we enjoy funding wars here, it's only entertaining if both sides have funds for arms or are forced to flail their arms in perpetual futility.

There is a murderer of seven that did repeatedly hit a one-year-old boy with a board until he died and then threw the body into the well. I would have linked the New York Times article, but it's subscription blocked.

Link
 

Just like the one-eyed Gypsy woman said.