Anticipations for the Upcoming FOMC Meeting

💡 Core Insight: *The market anticipates that the Fed will maintain interest rates within the current range of 5.25% to 5.50%.

Markets anticipate the Fed will maintain current interest rates. Any rate adjustment would come as a surprise.
However, a recent Bureau of Labor Statistics report revealed a hotter-than-expected job market, with wage and job growth continuing to exert upward pressure on inflation.
As of now, a rate cut in September has been priced in, according to CME Group’s FedWatch Tool.
Investors will closely examine the Central bank’s policy statement, the updated economic forecast and Powell’s press conference. Seeking clues that reveal more about the Fed’s outlook for the year.

Expectations for May's CPI Data

The May CPI data is scheduled for release on the morning of June 12th.
Economists surveyed by the Wall Street Journal anticipate a cooling of inflation.
CPI data is not anticipated to impact the Fed’s decision on interest rates but will help inform potential rate cutes in 2024.
In the past, the Fed has indicated a requirement for additional data showing a cooling trend in prices before considering rate cuts.

Apple’s World Wide Developers Conference (WWDC)

💡 Apple’s WWDC is likely to bring AI announcements.

“In our view WWDC represents the most important event for Apple in over a decade as the pressure to bring a generative AI stack of technology for developers and consumers is front and center,” Wedbush analyst Dan Ives wrote earlier this week.
Apple's AI initiatives have been relatively quiet compared to its competitors, potentially hindering stock performance this year.
A formal announcement of an OpenAI partnership is expected, speculated to introduce an exclusive chatbot with advanced features.
Further announcements may include:

• An improved Siri
• Upgraded emojis
• Tweaks to the home screen
• Privacy news

Who's Releasing Earnings?

The following companies are releasing earnings this coming week:

• Oracle
• Adobe
• Dave & Buster's Entertainment
• Broadcom

Looking for a new camera now and am deciding between the XT50 and XT30 II. I won’t be shooting video and will primarily be shooting street photography.
I’m wondering if it’s wiser to get the XT30 II and 2-3 prime lens’ or get the XT50 with 1 prime lens for the same price? Does the higher resolution sensor of the XT50 allow for tighter cropping in post?
I’m also only an amateur photographer and college student so I’m open to cheaper options as well.

I’m a week post OP tomorrow any pain many suggestions. I got my period when I got home from surgery the pain has been excruciating. I’m bleeding through paid and passing half dollar sized blood clots. I’ve been on 12.5 mg of oxycodone for a year prior to surgery. I discussed with my primary the concerns I had about pain management prior to surgery and she told me pain management would be my biggest hurdle. I discussed this with my obgyn who agreed he would prescribe pain medication in conjunction with the pain medication I already take. Day of surgery he tried to tell me I should be fine with just Tylenol and ibuprofen I brought up our conversation and he prescribed 10 5mg pills of oxycodone. That lasted me until Friday today is Monday and I am have this intense pressure on my lower back and non stop cramping in my abdomen along with burning in my incisions as well as burning where the scars from an appendectomy had done in 2022. I went to urgent care yesterday got a shot of tordal that took the edge of as well as a script for lidocaine patches that my pharmacy won’t fill. Does anyone have any suggestions I really don’t know what to do and this pain is unbearable thank you for your time.

Adobe price target lowered to $625 from $640 at TD Cowen TD Cowen lowered the firm's price target on Adobe to $625 from $640 and keeps a Buy rating on the shares. The firm said its DM partner survey showed weaker performance, pointing to softer SMB conditions. This likely limits NNARR degree of upside and could lead to slightly softer 3Q guide versus the Street, though investor sentiment is fairly muted and they don't think this would be a big surprise.

Orginal Story by C.K. Walker
Written By Ayden M.N. and u/Memisworld_23
SPOILERS FOR BORRASCA V
(Constructive Criticism is welcome and encouraged)
...
One hundred thirty two. That is the amount of people that were rescued that day on the mountain. I would be lying if I said it didn’t take me by surprise to hear the news about the stables let alone the number of people that were there. It makes me think back to when I was a kid and all the strange and tragic things that happened to me then. It's funny how time changes, how everything wilts away. How life goes on without a wait or stop. Sometimes you'll forget what lurked underneath, and when you do remember, it's already too late. I couldn't say my childhood wasn't bad but it's basically not as cheery as most kids have it.
My father was definitely sucked into his job as a lawyer, while my mom was bustling her back at an old diner, drinking her sorrows away. None had any time to spare for me, as a child. It made me a pretty independent child, and when my mother decided to give birth to Lucy, I became that mother figure that I never had. Aside from Lucy, I had nobody else to talk to. School in Drisking was okay, but I would be lying if I said it was a good experience. I was pretty much alone from childhood to teens. Most kids already had their own friends, their designated trio. I would always refer to it that way. It was by sheer luck that I really did find a friend. Someone who I could share my emo playlist alongside with and in return she taught me a lot about DnD.
However like if the world knew I was meant to be alone, she was taken away from me. I never knew what happened to her, but I beat myself about. If only I didn't moved from Drisking, maybe I could had found her sooner.
The one thing that has remained consistent is my ritualistic daily breakfasts at the diner. From the start of my freshmen year, I never missed a day of going to the diner. It was my way of getting my head together and preparing for the day ahead. Even into my adulthood, I never stopped going. Imagine my surprise when I saw a face that I’d honestly thought I would never see again. It didn’t click at first. I just felt like I knew it.
She was about 5’8” with asymmetrical short dirty blond hair. Her clothes were mainly black and I can just see something protruding from her around her waist. She had a plain black shirt tucked into her pants with a well-kept belt. She wore a Nobel 6 zip up jacket -Clearly a Halo fan- and a small d20 pin on it. Where this seems normal to the untrained eye, I can’t help but feel deja vu from looking at this woman. She seemed like this distant dream that is so fuzzy that it’s just familiar enough to almost recognize.
She walked into the diner and was given a table next to mine. I racked my brain trying to figure out who this was. I examined every part of her, again, and again, and again, just trying to make sense of who was sitting right there in front of me. She was so close, yet she was so distant from me.
“May I help you?” She sighs, putting her coffee down on the table in a way that I can only describe as a contained irritation. “Or are you just going to stare at me like I’m an exhibit?”
I wasn’t even conscious I was staring. She turns to me and it all clicks together. The d20, the jacket, and, my new discovery, looking at her closer and can see her, the freckle on her upper lip.
“Kat? Is that really you?” Stunned, I blurted out. I was adamant that that familiar woman had to be her. No one had that exact same freckle like her.
“That depends on who is asking.” She rolls her eyes taking another sip of her coffee.
She doesn’t recognize me? It makes since she didn’t. It’s been so long. Looking down at my empty plate, as I really wanted her to recognize me. Should I introduce myself? I thought, maybe I'll make her remember me.
“So you don't know me? I can give a hint, I'm sure it might give you an idea on who I am.” I nervously laughed, as I dug into my black leather purse.
Quickly, I pulled it out, plopping down a custom made d20 dice on the table. I remember painting my own dice black, since I was super obsessed with the color black as a teen.
“Wait,” Kat puts down her coffee again, this time with more of a clang. “What is that? Where did you get this?”
Placing the dice right next to my plate, I felt my throat lumping already.
“Remember on my 16th birthday, when it was only you and me. I remember we almost burned the house down because we had the dumb idea to bake a cake.”
“Pauly…?” A slow recognition comes across Kat’s face. Replaced soon by unadulterated joy. “Well, I’ll be damned!”
Tears started to well up my eyes, I was so ecstatic to finally see her eyes flashed with recognition. I slowly got up to my chair, every step I took felt like I was stepping in a pile of needles. Getting a great look on Kat, she looked different from the nerdy shy girl I knew. But, I didn’t care how different Kat looked, I was happy to see my old friend alive.
“I just don't know what to say. I thought I've lost you.” I whispered, my voice already trembling as I spoke.
“Oh,” Kat's voice cracks a bit too, pulling me into a hug. “It’s okay. I’m here.”
Kat seemed to be holding back tears. Just being with her now, I couldn’t even wrap my head around it. It seems so surreal. Even when I hugged her, it felt like it was a fabricated dream. But it wasn't, this was all flesh and blood.
“Just…how are you…I'm so sorry that I never found you. Everyone, even the cops told me that you were long gone. I had hoped you'd come back. Just didn't know it would take this long.” Wiping my tears with my sleeve, I hugged even tighter. She was much taller than me, so I couldn't really comprehend it.
“Hey, hey.” Kat chuckles a bit. Still holding back tears, I could tell. “It’s okay. You…There was no way you could have known. I have a lot of explaining to do, I’m sure but let’s forget about that for now.”
“Yeah…I'm just so happy to see you again.” I sat across from Kat's seat, picking up a napkin to wipe the rest of my tears. It rubbed off some of my mascara, making me think it was a horrible idea to try out some make up today. “So, um…what have you been doing over these years? I see you got a gun holster over there?”
“Well, I…” Kat cut herself off. “I was a SWAT operative. It’s, uh, a long story. How about you?”
“SWAT? No wonder you look so tough and badass!” I then continued enthusiastically. “Well, I'm actually a nurse practitioner. I'm very specialized in prenatal care. I know it's funny because I really didn't like babies back then.”
“Oh? That’s…nice.” Kat’s voice shudders. “And I wouldn’t call myself a badass for being SWAT. It…makes you question a lot of things about yourself for sure. It’s all in the interest of others though.”
My smile slowly fell, as I was scared if I might've made her upset. “I see, I understand. We both are doing jobs that help people, and probably had to endure some bad cases once in a while.”
“Did…did you ever find Kincade?”
Kincade. I haven't heard of that name since after moving Drisking.
I took a deep breath, as I responded. “I did manage to find Kincade after your disappearance. They never told me what happened, and I lost contact ever since. Last time I checked, Kincade moved to California.”
“Oh, thank god.” Kat sighs out of relief, as she takes a seat back down. “Knowing that girl, she’s living it up in LA. Well, I was actually in New York all this time. I thought it would be a good place to settle down. For what it was worth, the NYPD was good to me.”
“Oh I can tell she is. I followed her Instagram, and she's always posting pictures of parties and such.” I tucked a strand of hair in the back of my ear, while I pulled out my phone to show Kat Kincade’s page. “Even if they don't want to talk to me, I'm just super glad they're okay.”
I sometimes wonder why Kincade hasn't had contact with me yet, but deep inside I felt like they were somewhat upset with me. The strange thing was that once Kincade showed up, my mother just randomly disappeared. My father had always told me that she's just had it with us, and left to do her own life. However I never believed that story. Sure my mom was a raging drunk chain-smoker, but she always loved Lucy and I. Her just leaving out of the blue isn't in character, and I just know that something wrong might have occurred.
Kat inspects the page. I can tell it struck something in her. I knew from this point she was holding back a bit with her emotions but for some reason, this broke her. Suddenly I saw my childhood best friend break into a waterfall of sadness. She started to sob. As if she had a dam behind her eyes and they just burst.
“Kat.. Oh shit, I didn’t mean to make you cry,” I rushed towards Kat’s side, wrapping an arm around her shoulders.
It broke me to see Kat this way, yet I couldn’t help but wonder what made her let out her tears. My eyes suddenly landed at one of Kat’s wrist, a light brown scar was marred on her skin. It was half covered by her sleeve, its appearance was more like a stab wound than a slash. I could tell Kat noticed me staring at it, as she quickly covered it up. The sky was now in a vibrant orange and magenta hue, while the bright sun started to slowly settle down.
Kat finally regained her composure after a few minutes of apologizing profusely.
“I know.” Kat weakly pushes out from her lips through her tears. “I know you see them. I know I have a lot of explaining to do. I got that…from a mission that I’m not sure if you’re ready to hear.”
Leaning against her shoulder, I looked up at Kat with an understanding expression. “I think I’m ready to hear about this. Over these years, I wanted to know what happened in Drisking. I don’t want to stay ignorant anymore.”
“Let’s…” Kat wipes her eyes, only for more tears to take the others place. “Let’s go somewhere a little more private.”
∆∆∆
“As you enter into the Church of the Overthrown Gods.” Kat dramatically pauses. “You feel as if multiple eyes are watching you. As you look closer to the rotting wood altar, you see a tiny eye just peeking out…and then another…and then another…and then another… as they rise up from the altar you see they are on tendeles attached to a large spherical mass. You see 10 tenderals rise all with snake-like eyes darting around the room before meeting yours. As the large mass comes into view you see one large eye on it staring at you and an unnerving smile as it laughs intimidatingly at you. As you realize what is staring back at you is…a beholder…and that’s where we will leave off tonight’s session!”
Several protests fill the room. It wasn’t out of character for Kat to leave off on a cliffhanger, but this is what we have been waiting for since the end of 2008. And even a year later, Kat always leaves the carrot dangling over our heads.
“Hey,” Kat shrugs “I gotta keep you hooked or else our three month streak of all of you attending won’t keep going.”
“Oh, fuck you, Kat!” Kami rolls her eyes lightheartedly “We come back every week regardless.”
“Yeah, but it's more fun torturing you.” Kat giggled while combing through her long hair with her fingers.
Shaking my head, I took a sip on my already luke-warm Snapple, “Typical Kat. Why do you always gotta tease us like that? I was literally witnessing my character finally healing from a poison arrow and just to end at that. I totally can't wait till the next!”
“Thank you,” Kat nods before getting up and starting to pack up and the group follows suit. “I cannot wait for next session. It’s a big battle so I recommend you all start doing some research on Beholders to be ready, because this monster is really tough. Remember, we are starting the next session at level 12, and I’ll see you all soon!”
After about 10 minutes, the rest of the group left except for me. I like staying after sessions with Kat. I don’t understand why the other two people in the group don’t stay. It’s not even 9pm by the time we finished and they are already out the door.
It’s sophomore skip day tomorrow and I sure as hell know everyone will be participating so what’s the rush? Well, everyone except for Kat. From all the time I’ve known Kat up until this point, she never skipped a day or cut any corners when it came to her education. It was admirable but also frustrating. I cannot tell you how many plans I had to cancel because she wanted to study. I never understood why she was so serious about it. It’s like her life depended on her making good grades and being a shining student. I have to admit, I am jealous of her dedication to it.
I would typically leave her to her own devices when it came to school but just by looking at her, she looked like she deserved a break. With the exams and the constant verbal battles between her mother and her father, I can tell just by looking at her, the pressure is on her. I could say the same for my home situation, but I'm already used to it, that it is practically normal for me. Kat, on the other hand, really deserved a break, just this one time.
While I was playing with one of the d20 dice, gathering up courage, I asked, “Hey Kat? Whatcha going do tomorrow?”
“Oh, um.” Kat says not looking up from her notebook, making some notes for the next session. “Just going to school, I should be able to go to take our usual walks tomorrow after.”
A smile crept on my lips, as I definitely predicted Kat's answers. Sure, I did hear that the Sheriff in town was going to give tickets to those that didn't go to school, but I didn't really care about that. I just wanted to have a chill day with my friends. After all, I busted my ass to at least have passable grades.
“Hmm. Hey Kat, why don't we…you know,” I nudged her with my elbow. “Skip school tomorrow?”
“I don’t think that’s a good idea.” Kat sighs.
“I know, I know. But I just feel like these days have been for us but we just have fun tomorrow.” I could tell that I was losing Kat already, her mind dead set on going to school. I tucked a strand on my blue hair behind my ear, as I followed Kat. “Kat, please. Sometimes I worry about you because you're working yourself out. Just this once, and I'll promise I'll try to raise my Geometry class to a B!”
“I suppose…” Kat thinks for a second. “It wouldn’t hurt to skip one day.”
“Hell yeah!” I tackled Kat, as I tried to spin her around in happiness. “I promise that you'll have the best day. That jackass Sheriff won't ruin our day. I'll make sure of it!”
“Alright! Alright!” Kat giggles “Fine. Just calm down.”
I feel a sense of relief coming from Kat like I somehow unlocked one shackle that she bore on her ankles. There’s still plenty, and this one is certainly not the heaviest but the littlest weight off of her is enough for her to appreciate.
I let her go as I dashed towards my Jack Skeleton backpack, fetching out my half torn notepad. “ I scribbled some of the plans I have for tomorrow. I was thinking we could dine on Prescott Artisan Sandwiches, and then maybe hike the trail over west of Crystal Lake. What do you think?”
“Yeah!” Kat exclaims. “I heard there’s going to be a few people there tomorrow. Probably could use the social interaction, or attempt to at least.”
“We'll have the lake to ourselves,” I chuckled, placing my notepad back to my back. I really did need a new notepad, however I remember my family was very tight on money at the time. “Oh I almost forgot that Kincade might be joining us too.”
“Sounds good to me.” Kat smiles. “Honestly, that girl needs to be a bit more interactive if you ask me.” Kat chuckles. “As if I’m one to talk.”
“That's why I invited her too. I feel like you girls could get along.” I then jokingly added, “Maybe you can indoctrinate her into playing DnD with us, eh?”
“I’m sure I can.” Kat giggles. “Alright, so are you staying the night tonight? I think I can take the car tomorrow so you can stay if you like.”
“I'll stay, but I should pick up Lucy. My mom said she left her by the Landys,” I rubbed my neck in frustration as I continued. “I hate how my mom just randomly abandons Lucy to strangers. Does she know there's creeps?”
My mother always had done this multiple times, even when I was Lucy's age. A seven year old like Lucy shouldn't be in conditions like this, and I knew damn well that my father won't be available till 7AM. I thought about maybe walking up to the Landys house, maybe it was like 3 blocks or so.
“I think I'll walk to get Lucy. You wouldn't mind my little sis joining in our sleepover, right?”
“I mean, I don't have a big problem with it. Honestly, prefer it to just be you and me but I won’t be kicking and screaming if she is here.”
“That's true,” I nervously laughed, “Either way, Lucy is pretty much a sweet kid, and she will probably be distracted playing with her ballet Barbie dolls.”
Peeping through the windows, the sky was pitch black, almost like a void swallowing the whole town. I took a deep breath, before heading out of the door. Before stepping a foot outside of the wooden porch, I called out. “I'll be back, Kat. If I don't come back, the Skinned Men might’ve caught me!”
“Oh, don’t say that!” Kat calls at me as I walk away. She didn’t seem offended more lighthearted but there was a little seriousness there.
Kat always believed in the supernatural. While all of us grew up and just accepted it was just an urban legend that wasn’t real, Kat believed it. Kat even dedicated an entire essay on the history of the Skinned Man, and where the legend originated from. Needless to say, there wasn’t much to go off of and because Kat is very committed to things, she decided to embellish the details a bit and even I knew that a lot of that stuff was all pulled out of thin air and had no actual weight to it. They were just urban legends that little kids would scare others with. Along those tales were the Triple Tree.
Everyone would carve their names in the Triple Tree, serving like a talisman to these Skinned Men. If you didn’t, then I guess you were fucked. I never really carved my name, for some damn reason, my dad never let me. The moon shined brightly, casting light to these liminal streets. I was already used to walking at night, but for some odd reason, something was off. Crossing the right side of the neighborhood, I caught some headlights shining through the bushes. It looked like it belonged to an old police cruiser, and that alone made me start running. I was not a fan of the officers here, plus I was definitely violating a curfew.
“C’mon, Pauly,” I uttered under my breath, jumping through some fences.
I landed on the backside of the Landy’s house, my knees landing on top of the pavement. Hissing in pain, I slowly wobbled towards the front side of the house. It was stupid of me to think that I would magically land on my feet, but then again I had the shitiest luck. Quickly, I knocked on the door three times, after the fourth knock, the white adorned door swung open. In front of me was a cinnamon brown haired 14 year old boy, who had that bored expression that every teenager had. I recognized that boy as Parker Landy, the youngest of the Landy family.
“Uh, can I help you?” Parker wrinkled his nose, while he adjusted his glasses.
I furrowed my brows, “I’m here for my sister. For Lucy.”
“Oh, okay. Um, I guess you can come in.”
Parker reluctantly ushered me inside, as I wasted no time to search for Lucy. There, located in the dinning, Lucy was drawing while Mrs. Landy was brushing her dark little locks of hair. She was wearing a baby pink ballet uniform, the one that my dad bought her for her birthday. Ecstatic, Lucy jumped up from the chair and darted to my direction. We bid farewell to Mrs. Landy, heading out into the night. However, I caught a glimpse of her face morphing into a sorrowful look. ‘She must have been worried for us,’ I thought, mainly because it was just two girls heading out, embracing the unforgiving night.
“Pauly, where’s mommy?” Lucy’s wide eyes looked at me, grabbing my hand ever so tightly.
I sighed, thinking how to word out an appropriate response, “She’s just working a lot in the diner. So we can afford your ballet classes,” I had lied, flashing an assurring smile. I didn’t want Lucy to know the truth, she was an innocent kid after all.
Crossing up that same street again, I could sense that we were almost close to safety. Or so I thought. A slow rumbling sound of an engine followed behind. It was pitch dark outside, so I couldn’t really tell what color the vehicle was, but I did recognize it. What my eyes could grapple from what little information it had at the time, it was just that damn old police cruiser. Just as I was about to run with Lucy, the dark tinted windows rolled down, revealing an old familiar face.
“Ah little Miss Rhoades. What brings you here past curfew, hmm?” Ex Sheriff Clery asked, while flashing a very wide smile. I remember him being the Sheriff since the 1950s, not before being replaced by Robocop Walker.
Lucy bounced up and down, as she exclaimed “Me and Pauly are going home! Mommy and Daddy are still at work!”
Clery’s gaze looked back at me, his grin growing ever so slightly larger. “Oh really? It’s quite dark out here, you girls might need a lift.”
“No thank-” “Yes please!” Lucy quickly cut me off as she threw the car door open.
She quickly slithered herself in the backseat, while I was too stunned to comprehend. It left me no choice but to take this impromptu ride. Trembling, I sat next to Lucy, shutting the car door behind me. A loud click followed, as both doors were locked.
The whole ride I was scared shitless. I didn’t know why, but I guess I scared myself alot reading Missing Persons cases. I mean, I just entered a car with a person I barely knew. Yes, I know he’s a cop and his entire job is to keep us safe, but I couldn’t help but feel this sense of unease creeping into my conscious mind. It might be from the hundreds of “Stranger Danger” PSAs I’ve been fed all my young life. Lucy probably noticed how tense I looked, latching herself onto my arm.
“It's okay Pauly, the Skinned Men won't catch us anymore. We're safe here!” Lucy nuzzled on my arm, clearly obvious about the situation.
Sheriff Clery let out a chuckle, adding on “Little Lucy's right. No need to worry about those monsters when you're the old sheriff, eh?”
I nervously laughed along, just wishing that we’ll be at our destination already. That just put me even more on edge. I decided to dare a glance at the interior back mirror and I saw a pair of eyes seemingly staring at me and my sister with a look that just sent a chill down my spine. I tried to rationalize that maybe I’m just imagining things but the way he was staring at us was undeniably unsettling.
It was not after a minute later we arrived. The whole minute felt like hours, rightfully so I bolted out of the cruiser with Lucy in my arms. Before reaching the front door, the older man called out, “Be careful next time. You won’t know what’s lurking around these parts.”
After that the police cruiser drove off into the dark void of the unknown. That sentence alone carried an unsettling meaning, yet I could never pinpoint why. Objectively, it was quite normal. It was just a man showing a kind gesture but my gut was screaming not to trust this person. I tried to just brush it off as a misunderstanding but it was so strange I couldn’t.
∆∆∆
“So,” Kat began. “The place still has Prescott’s name written all over the place even after everything that happened?”
“I believe so,” I took a deep breath before continuing, “I really hope it’ll be over now. Sometimes, I wished I could live on with life. Like nothing happened, you know?”
The melody of the forest sung around us as we took in the fresh day’s air and the warm embrace of the midsummer’s sun. We’ve walked through this forest hundreds of times before but it’s like discovering uncharted territories every time we step foot in it. It feels different now. It seems bleaker than it was when we were children. Maybe it’s just an optical illusion or that every memory of my childhood feels like a dream.
“God,” Kat scoffs. “I’d scrub that name off the earth if I could.”
“I have to admit, everytime I see that name, something bad always happens. It's almost as if it was cursed.” My gaze shifted back to the abundance of trees, each of them being so eerily identical. “Thomas Prescott really did sell his soul, and everyone had to pay the price.”
“Don’t remind me.” Kat almost growls like a wolf to a degree that caught me off guard.
Shit, I definitely struck a nerve there. Why? Why did that set her off the way it did? I tried to change the subject into something else. I really didn’t want to upset Kat any further, I felt guilty just by saying that.
“It’s so silent here, I don’t know if I should be on edge or relaxed.”
“Sorry, I didn’t mean to sound like that. I don’t know what came over me.”
Kat’s eyes dart around before she runs her fingers through her hair with a sigh. It didn’t occur to me until just now that she had been watching everywhere and everything all at once. Every little movement her eyes locked onto. Could be just a natural reaction. I’m sure her line of work requires her to be hyper-vigilant so maybe it carries into her normal day-to-day life.
“You don’t need to apologize, Kat. I was the one who was pushing too much.” The wind blew softly, remnants of leaves danced in the air. It reminded alot about how life is, always pushing you in unpredictable directions. “I was thinking after this, maybe we should help each other out. My therapist gave me the advice that some wounds can’t heal by themself.”
“I can help you. I don’t really need help myself. When I was on the field, I was given state mandated therapy. It was important to do so to not go actually insane from all the messed up things we see. Trust me, there’s a reason why a lot of us quit after a few years of service.”
“ I see,” I gave Kat a crooked smile, “You're resilient, that's what I admired about you.”
Even after all those years, Kat still had those strong traits of being smart and strong. I could help but feel proud of her, and I wished her the best. I got closer to Kat, as I leaned on one of the oak trees nearby.
With a playful tone, I asked. “So when are you gonna show me how to use one of those?” I pointed at her gun.
“You?” Kat laughs. “I thought you hated loud noises?”
I shrugged, raising one of my brows. “Still do. It's just in case anything goes south. Or maybe I wanna impress somebody.”
“I’ll teach you soon. No doubt about that. I don’t have any ear protection on me and this beauty can get pretty loud.”
As we took in the forest’s lush surroundings, I noticed something that I haven’t seen before despite being out here for god knows how many times. There was a perfectly healthy tree in front of us but it seemed as if the bark had been ripped and torn definitely unnaturally; it had to have been done by someone, not an animal.
Kat and I exchange confused looks as we walk closer to the tree. Then, it all came together. I didn’t want to think that someone would have done this again. Not after the original was burnt to the ground a long time back. On the tree there were signatures. It sent an ungodly chill through my whole body. I looked over to Kat to see her reaction and she looked like she was frozen in time. With a look of shock and fear instilled upon her very body.
“It can't be. There's a new one here, but how?” My mouth was agape as I reached to touch the bark of the tree. My fingers grazed against each little individual signature. Each of them being unique, much like their owners’ names.
I look back at Kat. I realized I was mistaken, or perhaps it just shifted. Her look, it wasn't out of fear, no, it was out of resentment and hate and a boiling rage that I could tell is about to spill through. I know that even if I were to manage to say anything in this situation, I couldn’t prevent it from all coming out. What could I say? This isn’t anything I’ve seen from Kat. She always had a way to relieve her own anger but this was an anger that even the cool-minded Kat could not keep under control. Like a wildfire that had found a negligent camper’s gasoline can.
“Kat–”
“They think they can control me even in death but they can’t.” Kat whispers to herself quickly. I barely had time to process before the wildfire finally found the gas. “THEY FUCKING CAN’T!”
Kat lifts her shirt slightly, revealing her concealed gun. A Pit Viper. She draws it at a speed I barely had time to comprehend as she switches off the safety and takes a stance.
“Wait! Kat!”
That was all I could get out before I was overtaken by an ear splitting explosion. I barely had time to register the second one before the third went off. It was the same for the fourth and the fifth. My ears rang the loudest they have ever in my life as the pain in my ears set in and the agony of my head throbbing so hard that I thought my brain would burst from it alone. The sounds echoed through the forest. All the birds and the bugs and creatures stopped in unison as if Kat slain them herself.
And then.
Silence.

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Hi all, I began taking Mirtazapine at 7.5mg about 1+1/2 years ago for anxiety, depression, and Intrusive thoughts. At the time it felt as if it was helping to a degree, but my issues ramped back up a few months in.
My doctor recommended 15mg, the story is much the same, with it only taking about a month or two for it to get worse again.
My doctor recommended 30mg, these did little to help. My anxieties and mental compulsions were back in full swing, almost worse (though at the time I was in a stressful work environment, and thought this was the cause).
Once more, my doctor recommended upping my dose to 45mg, I accepted. I have been prescribed 45mg for about a year now, my mental health and any form of social life degrading the entire time as I wait for therapy. Feeling numb and confused at best and panicked at worst.
I came to a realization when I was waiting outside my home with my partner as she was vaping, that the noise of a car turning into the street I live on was causing me to hide myself in panic. I don't even breath when I walk past people most of the time, and leaving the house would feel overexposed and dangerous.
I began ramping down my mirtazapine dose to about half of the 45s nightly 2 weeks ago after hearing mirtazapine could cause a constant "on edge" feeling, especially at higher doses. I plan to keep ramping it down to getting completely off of it as it seems none of the doses actually work for long, or actively make me worse.
Has anyone had similar experiences to this? If so, and if you feel comfortable to share, what were your next steps?
Note: I was recently diagnosed for ADHD and began treatment about a month ago.

I've always seen the appeal to fighting games,the flashy moves,cool characters and complex combos/movesets to learn,and I've always wanted to be good at them,although I had never actually owned one so my only experience was play smash bros or marvel vs capcom 3 at friends houses so I wasn't playing regularly or for long.
When I finally got my first fighting game marvel vs capcom infinite,I was excited as it had only just come out,I wasn't very good as I wasn't even a teenager.Recently I started to crave a fighting game and started marvel vs capcom again,I got the hang of basic combos and wanted to play online however no one plays so I now want to get a more modern game.
I had always known about tekken so it was my first option however its seemingly endless move list was so daunting I decided to look for an alternative,this was when I came across Guilty Gear strive as some friends play it,yet I still hesitated to buy them as deep down I knew I was bad at fighting games at a whole,largely due to moves requiring arc motions on the joystick,but I am still daunted by fighting games as a whole as I don't enjoy things I am not immediately good at or can pick up easily
I know that once I learn how to play properly I will enjoy them yet I am unsure which game I should start with,Guilty Gear or Tekken,I have friends who play both and are quite experienced and they say I should pick the one I think I would enjoy the most yet both look equally amazing.Tekken has its extreme complexity(which i find appealing as I love to learn ) and cool flashy moves and combos,where as guilty gear seems less complicated yet it has astounding character designs who also have flashy combos.I have researched both to and found that both have their fair share of things to help beginners,Tekken has an arcade/story mode that teaches the basic( but not everything) and well developed combo trials.Yet Guilty Gear has its extensive mission mode with a simpler moveset yet still has its complexities such as roman cancels and types of bursts
Because of this I'm stuck choosing between the two,so far I'm almost set on Guilty Gear as it's cheaper and slightly easier and has imo a nicer artstyle,yet I'm worrying that I might make the wrong decision and discard Tekken when it may be better(I do expect it to be somewhat better due to the price and more recent release date-the price does seem steep however)
I hope the community can help me make a decision but also help me overcome the mental block I have but also the learning curve,even if tips are not game specific as if I get good at some games I will probably branch out to play more.Street fighter 6 and Mk1 are also possibilities simply due to their popularity but no friends play them making them almost a last resort with the lowest chance of me buying.

Hi
In August I'll be putting my house on the market and moving in with my partner of 2yrs. As we're moving closer to the day I am getting more anxious, and think I just need some advice one what to do amd how best I go about protecting myself financially.
Background: I was in a long term relationship of 20yrs and thought I was settled with kids until kid turned 18 and my partner wanted out. Which left me homeless as it was his house I moved into and being very nieve didn't think I needed protection or marriage. So that left me 40yrs old with very little savings (as I handed over money to him to look afte pay bills with each month).
I moved in with my parents for a few months and was able to save and purchase a home for me and my son. This was back in 2019, my son is now looking at buying a home with his partner and my 5yr fixed term is due to expire in Nov. I started dating in 2022, and as its expensive running 2 homes, we've decided to move in together. I'm OK doing this as mine is the smaller home it made sense me selling up- however this is where I need help. We've talked about the sale of my house and that being my money that I won't be putting that into anything as I need to have a safety net because of what's happened to be before. He's OK with that and understands completely and he supports that choice, but what do I do with the money? I currently have approx £77k left on my mortgage, and house prices on my street for the same house are approx £120-£130k(ish) which would give me £48,000(ish) taking off selling house fees and I have a credit card I want to clear, say 40k left based on £125k sale. Those would be my whole savings. But then as I'd have only part of the outgoings I'd be able to save 1k a month. What do you recommend I do going forward?
Also, I do have a will that says anything I have goes to my kid. I would like to amend this so that my assets are divided but not sure the best way to word this.
Thanks

How do you defeat spammers, bots, bad actors? How do you incentivize good behaviour, account safety, digital goodwill, trust?
Answer: Users own the track record of their accounts and reap the benefits (and cost) from them. Lets run through a thought experiment.
Lets assume:

• Account = Unique wallet (stake) addr
• You are looking to buy one artwork NFT.
• You found 2 artworks that you like identically, their price is identical.
• You value supporting good actors over bad actors.
• Your definition of good actors is: those who positively impact Cardano.

You - the buyer - are looking which to buy. The only other parameter that you are interested in is which of these sellers is a better actor.
You check the seller accounts to find out. Here's the info you get:
Seller1

• Owns 1 ADA inside.
• Unstaked wallet.
• 1 transaction (deposit ADA) made 1 hour ago.
• 1 transaction (mint art NFT) made 59 mins ago.
• 1 transaction (selling smart contract) made 58 mins ago.

Seller2

• Owns 1815 ADA, 300 NFTs
• Staked wallet, 1.2 years
• 420 transactions (creating art NFTs) made across 1 year.
• 69 transactions (selling smart contract) made across 1 year.
• 10 transactions (withdrawals / deposits) made across 1 year.

What differentiation can we make between two sellers sellers? How can the buyer make an optimized choice to support a 'good actor' ?
Buyer can draw some conclusions

• Seller1 does not stake.
  • Does not support decentralization and security of Cardano.
  • Seller1 has opted for increased anonymity lacking of stake key.
  • Seller1 has not performed the action of staking, optimized for speed / minimal cost.
• Seller1 has performed minimal transactions.
  • No track record or context around the User, neither positive or negative.
  • The only transactions that occurred happened in quick succession. Single objective, sell art.
• Seller1 recently minted their first NFT.
  • No track record:
    • If buyer is risk averse: this is negative.
    • If buyer is risk tolerant: this is neutral.
• Seller2 stakes for 1.2 years.
  • Supports decentralization and security of Cardano.
  • Is less anonymous (and thus closer to account's liability).
  • Has performed the action of staking, optimized for returns.
• Seller2 has performed 400+ transactions spanning 1 year.
  • Seller2 supports Cardano through network usage.
  • Seller2 is an 'active' user of the wallet, multiple actions, varied successful interactions with different accounts / smart contracts.
• Seller2 has minted multiple NFTs over the year.
  • Seller2 has a track record which can be found.
    • If buyer is risk averse: this is positive.
    • If buyer is risk tolerant: this is neutral.

Given this (simplified) analysis to our buyers analysis, we quickly see that Seller2 is objectively the better choice. Seller2 has more track record, is an active user and contributes to Cardano's security via staking. Seller2 has more to lose if his/her account was earmarked as being a 'bad actor' than seller1 who has little to no invement in his/her account.
This is a very simplified thought experiement that I hope some of you can still see the merit in. Ofcourse their are plenty of holes to shoot in and edge-cases to bring up, but the principle remains the same.
If you walk down a shoppingstreet and two identical cheesemakers are selling the same cheese at the same price, the only difference is on has been around for years and paid in taxes to build the street you are walking while the other just popped up and no-one knows him/her, are you going to role the dice on that slice?
So why not make an open-source wallet score that just has some basic info about wallets? We'd like to build one and would love your support on Catalyst: https://cardano.ideascale.com/c/idea/121938
We want to integrate this scoring on AdaTimeStamp.io so users can see "Who'se behind the post".
Get in touch if you want to chat / tell us why we are wrong in chat! ;)

I’m on the verge of purchasing the Focus Paralane 8.9 2022. Initially I liked the bike because of it’s excellent price point and the fact that it’s great for longer rides and even bikepacking if I decide to do so in the future.
However, I am young, in good shape, and love to go fast. I’m an ”experienced” cyclist, I have been riding an XC-bike for years. I also run a lot. So although I don’t plan on doing races, I am slightly worried that I won’t have as much fun on this bike as I would have on a more aggressive race bike.
I will mostly be doing 2-6 hour rides in varying terrain: rough and smooth pavement, gravel, and city streets. Anything shorter than that and I think I would just go running. Running is what I do with the pure purpose of fitness, cycling would be more for fun and exploration.
In the past few days I’ve read a lot more about bike geometry and at least on Reddit it seems that a lot of the people on here that advocate for endurance bikes are a lot older than me and in worse shape.
So, even though my bike’s purpose is not for racing, could I be making a mistake getting a relaxed geo endurance bike considering the factors I have covered in this post?

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If you missed my grand entrance into the silver city, I recommend reading my last post.
If nothing here makes sense to you, start from the very beginning.
I apologize for the long period without news. I received an unexpected visit, and because of it, I was bedridden for quite some time. I'm grateful that my boss saw everything happen—I mean, saw what he thought was happening—and assured me that I would receive financial assistance while I recover.
Did you know that if you don't have most of your documents, the hospital bombards you with questions? It's pretty obvious, isn't it? It's a shame I didn't think of that while I was being taken there; I could have jumped out of the car and avoided the headache.
Jokes aside, the last few weeks have brought me answers. Maybe I have a chance to correct some mistakes. Maybe all of this wasn't just a desperate final act to gain favor with the Lord. This place has been much more useful than I anticipated.
Today's post is important because I finally have the chance to talk about the most precious information one can have when condemned to the abyss: how to escape it.
But before I start walking through my memories, I need to tell you guys how I ended up in this miserable state.
In short, I got into a fistfight with an angel.
And If you think I got all busted up, you should see the other guy!
As I mentioned in my last post, beings from the depths of Tartarus have been haunting me since my escape. Jailers of rotting flesh, insectoids with multiple faces that recount countless insults to my person.
With focus and meditation, I can ignore them during the day, endure them at night, and pray not to encounter them in my dreams. Although this last one always seems to happen, I usually manage to carry on with my life relatively well.
I just didn't knew that hell wasn't the only realm keeping an eye on me. With that in mind now, I should have noticed that something was wrong.
I have been having strange encounters.
A taxi driver who, instead of taking me to my apartment, guided me without me noticing to the nearest Catholic church and vanished with the car as quickly as he arrived.
A lady in the park who watched over me throughout the period I spent enjoying my late afternoon near the lake. I don't remember the color of her eyes, but something tells me she had more than one pair.
And the most recent one, a beggar who threw me against the wall as I exited through the back of the burger joint with my boss.
I couldn't see him arrive because he wasn't there initially; it's as if he had materialized from thin air in a matter of seconds.
I remember opening the door and heading towards the gutter, then an unbearable heat enveloped my body for a brief moment, and I was thrown against the wall.
At first, I also thought it was just a random bum trying to rob me, but the spectral glow in his eyes, the way reality slightly warped around his body, and his voice that echoed in my mind like the roar of a beast told me otherwise.
I... panicked.
You see, I am doing everything I can to avoid setting foot in Gehenna again. Until that attack, I clung to the comforting fact that I am out of that prison, that they can't hurt me anymore.
So when one of the soldiers from the celestial ranks pushed me against the wall, wrapping his heavy hands around my neck, a primordial fear crumbled my will. I could barely struggle as he roared in my mind.
"To dust thou returned, and cannot stay here. Thy soul, stained by the ashes of hell, is marked by the blood of the star. In thee, he sees a way out; in thee, the holy sees a mistake."
In his eyes, I could recognize pity and hatred.
He saw me as something so small and fragile, something to be protected from the claws of sin. One of the Creator's toys that had been so rudely broken and was now fighting against the rules that guide existence.
In his own words, a mistake. One that needed to be fixed.
Even with such a fragile appearance, his strength was tremendous. He squeezed my throat while whispering apologies in my mind. I could see demons approaching in the darkness, ready to grasp my soul in my final moments.
My heart racing, my mind almost devoid of oxygen, I could no longer think straight—I was going to die.
I stretched my arms against the wall, anything would do, any way to defend myself.
My hand closed around something cold and heavy, and with all my strength, I pulled.
Adrenaline is a powerful drug. I managed to wrench one of the rusty bars from the window and hit him with all I had.
The blow sent him into the street, where a van ran him over shortly after.
My boss insists that I had a panic attack and that in my altered state, I ended up throwing a loose iron rod at a school van, scaring some poor kid shitless, before fainting on the ground.
This brings me many questions.
Now more than ever, I feel paranoid, watched.
And knowing that people wouldn't even know if I were being attacked terrifies me.
I feel like my time is running out, something horrible is about to happen. So without further ado, I must fulfill my purpose and at least help you while we still walk in the same plane.
Hell is a place of torture and punishment, the reward our sins earn us in the afterlife, but it is also a prison.
It's not just for the sinners who wander the circles in search of a light that has long rejected them, but also for the original evil—the serpent that hisses hatred long before humanity even dreamed of existing.
The being forged when the Creator and the original angels still roamed the cosmos, shaping and expanding it.
He who was once God´s favorite, but has since fell with a third of the stars.
The one who commands faithful followers both on Earth and in the depths.
The concept of time in hell is complicated; some circles distort your perception, and two hours can suddenly become two minutes.
Combine this with the lack of natural light and claustrophobic confinements, and you will see that most of the slaves in the Silver City go through years like zombies, one day indistinguishable from the next, unaware if they have been there for a day or a decade.
In my fourth year as Jack's torture toy, this condition was affecting me aggressively.
Over the years, Jack had opened my schedule, allowing me to work under the orders of some of his followers in other regions of his kingdom, still confined behind the walls and never seeing the light of day.
My schedule was cruel and irregular, so much so that even today I must admit that I am not confident in stating that only four years have passed. In the morning, Astaroth would play with my mind; I lived a thousand lives with a thousand deaths, the profane void and the painful light of the vastness, my mind reduced to ashes and then expanded beyond the confines of my skull.
Immediately after, I was blindfolded and taken to the Pleasure zone, where I was forced to synthesize drugs and beverages from the blood of beasts and fungi.
In the floor directly below one of the main sales points of the Scarlet Maiden, the most purchased drug in the city, I worked for hours grinding and heating, accumulating terrible blisters and burns while my mind was numbed by the aroma and visions.
In a hot and cramped room, I was joined by five other slaves, and there we spent most of the day.
Deaths from overdose were common, some fell from excessive work, others were killed for pure pleasure. Our guards were always incredibly high and enjoyed mistreating us to maintain their sense of power.
Pawns so low in the hierarchy of the infernal king, probably venting years of spite in our daily sessions.
From time to time, the owner of the operation would come down to check the quality of the product, which was never refined enough, and would punish us for it.
By order of the king, he wouldn't lay a hand on me, but he made me watch and often forced me to participate in the torture of my colleagues. Fingers cut off, teeth pulled out, hot iron spikes on the backs of those who spilled even a gram of his precious product.
The things I was forced to do still keep me awake.
And always accompanying him, I saw her.
Unfortunately for Mice, the girl brought with me did not meet her end in his perverted arms, but in the hands of one of Jack's captains. Always with a distant look, drugged beyond her limit, following her master like an obedient dog.
Occasionally, she would watch me with a hint of sanity in her eyes.
While her master punished us. she often tried to approach me, but always without success.
When the work was done, I was put to sleep with gas and woke up again imprisoned in the palace catacombs, ready to endure another session of agony before sleep.
Day after day, this insanity continued, my long-diminished hope was exhausted, I became a shadow, a shell of my former self, ready to follow the next order, begging for mercy that was never granted.
This cycle continued until one particular night, when I woke up again below the castle, chained to the wall, with a decrepit old man beside me.
For some reason, Astaroth had let me rest that night; I should have suspescted something was wrong.
In the darkness, his face was hard to discern. I remember terrible dark circles, short and damaged gray hair. His eyes were sunken, pulling you in like ocean waves, his lips cut, and what seemed to be terrible gashes on his neck.
"So... it's true?" the old man murmured, breaking the silence.
"What are you talking about?"
"I've heard that madman's ravings many times, but this sounds different; there's some ground that supports the theory this time."
"I don't have time for the ramblings of a senile old man."
"Do you really have the Mark of the Beast?"
I stared into his eyes, recalling the same claim coming from my captor's mouth.
That fucking mark, up until then, I thought it was just an excuse that bastard Mice used to save his own neck, one that had cost me four years of confinement.
But there was a fearful weight in the old man's voice; his words carried a sense of truth.
"What is this damn mark? Ever since I set foot in this cursed city, I've been treated like merchandise, my mind scourged night after night because of this shit! You're all mistaken, you're wasting your time! Leave me alone!"
"Haven't you noticed anything strange, young man? We're just a bunch of damned souls in hell, but don't you feel that your stay has been particularly difficult? As if the very ground fights to keep you here?"
"I..."
"I've listened to the ramblings of the collector who found you; you were captured by an angel, weren't you? That doesn't usually happen. Something attracted it, just like the Succubus, just like the beasts."
"I'm just a wretched soul; there's nothing more to it. I'm only getting what I deserve! I should have been patient, Holly didn't deserve that, but she was going to tell everything! She was going to show the photos, and I was going to lose my job, my damn family, my house! I saw no other way! And now I'm paying for it, nothing more, nothing less..."
"Do you really think that's all there is to it? So many here with souls far more rotten than yours, yet still surrounded by pleasure and power. If hell worked as you think, why would Jack have what he has? Why would sinners be able to raise such a heresy as this metropolis?"
"I don't know, damn it! I just want all of this to end! I just want to go home!"
In the moments that followed, the old man pondered something in his mind, looking avidly into the darkness, fearing we were being watched, and then he said calmly, "I know a way out."
Despair is dangerous; the lack of a path, of a light, brings out the worst in humanity. Surrounded by eternal darkness, I was presented with a way out of torment, and it was as if a weight had been lifted from my shoulders.
"Don't say anything, just listen to me. If what I've heard about you is true, there is a chance. But I'll only tell you everything if you promise to take me with you. I'll withhold details as we travel to make sure you don't betray me. You'll do everything I say, how I say it, when I say it, or the deal is off."
"Wait, travel? To where?"
"The ninth circle of hell, of course, where the one who marked you is eagerly waiting. There, he holds a passage to a higher plane, where perhaps one can obtain a new body. "
A shock ran through my heart, a new body.
A way out of here.
"Even if all of this is true, how do you suppose we escape from here? It's not like Jack will suddenly repent of his sins and set us free overnight."
"That part I'll leave to you. Think of it as a test of your abilities. If you can get us out of here, it will serve as proof that you can handle the journey to the depths of the abyss. If we get caught, I'll know I was wrong about you."
We didn't talk for the rest of the night. I couldn't sleep either; how could I? My mind was restless with the possibility of salvation, an escape route from all the pain, a new chance at life. I just needed to get us out of there, but how? Trapped in the catacombs, without even the grace of seeing the city, I had no idea what things were like on the surface. I couldn't formulate a plan.
At least, not alone.
Patiently, I waited, the days passing by, torturous and merciless. But in that moment, I had gained a frightening resilience, with something to cling to, hope had flourished again, I thought not even the corrupted shadows of the city could shake me anymore.
Damn, was I wrong.
Finally, the day I had been waiting for arrived. You see, with so many slaves falling from excessive work and cruelty, an exchange would happen from time to time, and some familiar faces would appear when I was lucky.
On that day, when the blindfold was removed, I had to hold back from showing my happiness.
In the laboratory with me was John, tied to a wooden table in the corner grinding fungi with a leather mask, and in the middle, cracking open beasts' skulls with a giant hammer, was the gigantic man who had been captured with me.
A long day followed, the smell of sweat, blood, and drugs intensifying with each passing hour.
My eyes were keenly watching the movement of the guards, restless and anxious. It was almost a daily ritual, the moment they secretly entered the stockroom to 'evaluate the quality of the product.'
Precious few minutes when we were left alone.
As always, the guards grew tired of the trembling and tapping feet and retreated to the stockroom, threatening us with the loss of our eyes if we told anyone. As soon as the door closed, I got up and went directly to John.
As naturally as I could, I put on the leather mask and pretended to help him with the fungi while whispering by his side:
"I don't have time to explain, but I might be able to get us out of here, and I need your help to do it."
His calloused hands stopped working, dropping the equipment on the table.
"What?! Nate, is this true?"
"Don't turn to me, keep working."
Slowly, he returned to mashing the fungi and sorting them into small bags. He was trembling, making mistakes; hope in hell can easily shake anyone.
"What do you need?"
"Information, you work outside too, don't you?"
"Selling everything to the addicts who come from the lower city, but I don't know if I trust my life to anything that comes out of their mouths."
"That's something already. I need to know everything, even if it doesn't seem important. Please tell me, maybe we can-" — A heavy hand landed on my shoulder.
That behemoth of a person was standing right behind me.
He had heard everything.
Even with the constant cacophony of the equipment, the incessant blabbering from the upper store, and the lower tone of our voices, he had listened. He knew we were trying to escape.
"I want in."
"What?"
"A cripple and a pile of sticks? There's no way in hell you two are escaping this city without my help. If you want to do this, I'm coming along. If not, the guards will have a nice little surprise when they come back."
I could hear footsteps approaching. His expression made his intentions clear. I had no other choice at the moment but to include him in the team.
"Damn it, fine! Information, as much as you can get. When we meet here in the lab, we'll share everything we've discovered. Once we have a plan, we start taking action."
The door opened, and the soldiers entered, still with their masks down and their noses full of powder, seeing each of us quietly in our respective places.
In the following weeks, with the extra help, I was able to learn a lot about the flow of drugs and weapons in the city.
The Greek god of a man is named Yudi, and when he's not in the lab, he spends his days carrying metal plates to the lower city until his feet bleed.
With him, we discovered that about twice a month, the Collectors go out in droves through the gates toward Lust in search of fresh meat, taking with them an absurd amount of metal to supply the numerous outposts scattered throughout the circle.
John had discovered that a significant portion of the merchants in the Pleasure Zone use this expedition to transport a large part of their stock to the higher circles right under Jack's nose. On the night before the group's departure, the masters' most valued slaves are chosen to carry box after box to a certain warehouse in the lower city. There, the Collectors take their share of the deal and hide the goods in their cars before the day begins.
The collectors' parts are properly marked, and the rest is supposedly not opened.
In the darkness of the dungeon, my mind began to formulate a plan. If we could find a way to stay in the lab until the end of the shift, we might be able to infiltrate the merchandise and escape the Silver City through the front gate.
There were still many problems: the merchandise was moved at night, precisely when we were taken to our respective 'dormitories'. Our absence would surely be noticed. And how on earth were we supposed to even know which box would be moved to the warehouse and which would be sold the next day?
If we were to do that, we needed more information, but we also needed to be quick.
Up until that point since the old man's arrival, Astaroth and Jack had left me alone. If they decided to do another torture session, the Archduke of Hell would claim domain over my mind again and know exactly what I was planning to do.
I shivered, thinking about what horrors would await me after that.
Each night before bed, I updated the old man on the progress of my plan, asking for details on exactly how we would escape from that cursed plane when we reached the ninth circle. But that bastard never said anything, just looked at me waiting for my next move.
Afraid of losing the precious window that had opened for me, I foolishly decided that it would be better if we acted quickly and forced fate to smile upon us for a change.
When I woke up in the laboratory the next day, I took advantage of the guards busy fucking with their own minds to tell my colleagues the plan.
It was insane, but what in that pit of despair was coherent?
On rare occasions, the old man graced us with his presence in the laboratory; because of the agreement, he had to come along. I gave the excuse that he knew of a safe place where we could rest if we managed to escape. It wasn't convincing, but what other choice did they have but to accept?
When the four of us were working together, we would act. Thanks to John, I found out that we didn't always work the day shift in the laboratory; every other day, we spent entire nights in that damn cramped place.
If we caused a distraction, we could use the panic to invade the stockroom and hide among the merchandise that would be mislaid. The slaves would take us to the Warehouse, and from there, we would rely on luck for them to be too busy searching for us in the Upper City to find us.
We would have to leave before Jack was notified of our escape; with Astaroth by his side, there was no place in the city where we could hide.
Luckily, nobody wants to be the one to bring bad news to the psycho.
With the plan set, we began to act.
Having no idea the self-appointed King of Hell was already well aware of our actions.
The day I escaped from the Silver City was also the day I officially gave up my humanity while in hell.
Hatred, anger, they consume the heart of everyone, from the purest to the most honorable, not that I am anywhere close to being either of those things.
Even to this day, I still feel dirty, undeserving to be here now, and I know it all too well, but still, I do not regret the things I did to survive.
The plan had started well, with all of us together in the laboratory feeling anxious with every passing second, my stomach churning, my hands trembling. I didn't know how to act normally anymore, didn't want to raise suspicions, so I hyperfocused on my work, waiting for the end of the shift.
Cutting muscles from beasts, roasting ground fungus powder with a meat-like texture, slowly being numbed by the sweet aroma that always hung in the laboratory.
The sound of footsteps upstairs had considerably reduced, one of the signs that the shop was about to close, I looked at Yudi and nodded.
You know, the strange fungus that grows on the walls of the city has some interesting characteristics, they call it Dead Man's Fiber, to the touch it's like touching wrinkled skin, when ground and heated, a strange reaction causes it to become slimy and acidic, sticking to human muscle it devours it, generating a byproduct in the form of orange powder. The unrefined form of Scarlet Maiden.
In this state, the drug is highly unstable, and upon contact with water, it rapidly increases its temperature, which can give you horrible burns.
Or, if there's a sufficient amount, an explosion.
Throughout the day, little by little, we gathered five small bags filled with the byproduct, hiding them beneath the many empty bags scattered in the corner.
When I nodded, Yudi slowly rose and headed to the pile; the soldiers had once again left to get high, so he quickly planted the powder bags around the boiler, attracting curious glances from the poor souls accompanying us on that shift.
I hoisted John onto my back, the old man following closely behind, and we positioned ourselves at the edge of the stairs.
As soon as Yudi saw that we were ready, he lifted the water jug we received at the beginning of each day and threw it toward the boiler.
Then, chaos.
An explosion caused the floor directly above the boiler to collapse, powder and chemical gases making it nearly impossible to see more than a foot ahead, screams and cries of pain ensued.
One of the slaves who accompanied us was caught in the blast; an iron pipe from the boiler had pierced his neck, pinning him to the wall, the last customers of the shop above were caught in the flames that rose like a mushroom through the hole that opened in the floor.
Soldiers hurried down the stairs to control the fire, not seeing us pressed against the wall, we quietly went up as soon as everyone descended to control the damage.
John guided us to the stockroom; we had little time until the merchandise was moved to be saved from the flames.
I could already hear murmurs from outside; the distraction had worked, we had drawn attention.
Perhaps, too much of it.
In the darkness of the stockroom, it was hard to see anything; dozens of boxes filled the space, mostly unmarked. We had no idea which ones to break into.
"What now? Do we just pick at random? You told us you had a plan!" Yudi said, pulling at my shirt.
"Now is not the time for this!" John said somewhere in the dark. "Fuck, just...I don't know, pry open one of the smaller ones! There's supposed to be a way for the collectors to know which one to pick, maybe there's something inside!"
"Look at how many boxes there are! The fire is already spreading, it won't take long till-" Yudi was interrupted by a pound at the door.
"Open this fucking door already! I want my powder safe and sound, do you hear me! Useless bitch, hurry up!"
What little time we had was about to be over. I could faintly see scared eyes looking at me for answers in the darkness. My heart was pounding, and I just wanted to get out of there.
I noticed a pile of boxes that was more isolated than the others. Without light, it was hard to tell, but with no other choice, I hurried towards them.
The door was about to give in; we would have to rely on luck.
We opened two boxes, put on the leather masks in an attempt to avoid inhaling too much of the drug, and split up, hiding within the merchandise. I stayed with John, trusting that Yudi would take care of the old man.
The door gave in with a loud thud.
"Quick, you incompetents! I want every damn gram secured! And you, slut, get two more and get this shit out of here now! If Jack shows up, he's going to ask questions, and questions ruin an honest man's business."
The screams and footsteps, the smell of the drug making me dizzy, the smoke from the fire engulfing the shop. We were hurriedly moved to the elevator, and as I felt us descending, a wave of relief filled my heart.
Through the small cracks in the wood, I could distinguish the lower city slowly growing larger, the plan was working as intended.
I remember John smiling.
Maybe it was the drug, maybe it was the euphoria of the moment, but I remember being happy to have him with me.
...I miss him.
We were led to the warehouse, where they left the boxes and abandoned us in the darkness. I could hardly believe how well the plan was going.
Looking back now, I realize I was a fool.
The collectors never checked the boxes; they just loaded them onto the cars.
Before I could connect the dots, we were passing through the silver gates. Looking through the crack, I had once again the full view of that sin-ridden skeleton, and even as I moved away from it, I felt in my heart that I had already been touched by the city, and it tends to always reclaim what belongs to it.
The truck that was carrying us headed towards the Spire until the crown of the first circle was nothing more than a small dot on the horizon.
And then, it stopped.
"Why now? We haven't reached the spire yet, why stop now?" John whispered nervously in front of me.
Before I could respond, a chilling shiver ran down my spine upon hearing Mice's voice.
"Well, I think the little show has gone on long enough, hasn't it?"
The lid of our box opened, and I could hear the pumping sound of a shotgun. Above, Mice and two companions grinned maliciously at us.
"Well, well, what do we have here? Jack's new favorite little toy and his buddy! Care to tell me what you're doing in my shit?"
"Please, Mice, you can have the drugs, just let us go!" I pleaded.
Mice laughed, laughed so hard that his fucked-up lungs gave him a coughing fit. After composing himself, he ordered us to be taken out of the box. Yudi and the old man were already kneeling in the sand with their hands on their heads.
"Oh, fucking amazing! Hold on, let me get this straight. You really thought your dumbass idea would work out so well? Holy shit, buddy, you're really stupid, haha! Listen here, I'll tell you a little secret."
Mice approached my face, pressing the shotgun barrel against my chin.
"You would never have even found your little buddies again if Jack hadn't ordered it."
"What are you talking about?"
"Oh, come on! Use your fucking head! Everything so convenient, so perfect, your whole plan worked because Jack wanted it to. Your encounter with the old man, the information that reached your colleagues, the timings lining up, the guards leaving, all observed, all permitted."
My face contorted in horror; once again, I was nothing but a pawn, a toy of that maniac. Astaroth would always watch us, the king always controlling every miserable inch of his kingdom.
"Why!? Why would he let us get this far?"
"Something in your ultimate fate pleases him. If he can't extract any information from you, he'll just let you guide him to what he wants, won't he?"
"But then, why stop us now?"
Mice chuckled.
"Ding ding ding! This is the question of the moment! Congratulations, idiot, some neuron up there still works as it should! You see, I never cared about that mangy mutt. Jack is just a little baby who luckily gained a lot of power, if he's so afraid of what your mark represents like this, it means that you pose a danger to his empire, through you I'll have the chance to take the throne that has always belonged to me!"
Mice was interrupted by a sound, Yudi laughing as he watched kneeling.
With a smile, Mice approached, knelt in front of Yudi, carefully dusted the drug powder from his shoulders, and asked: "And what's so funny about that to you?"
"It's nothing, it's just that you call us idiots, but if you think you can usurp the throne with two piles of muscles and a tough attitude, you're even dumber than you seem to be."
The smell of gunpowder invaded my mind before I could process what had happened.
I remember touching my head, something was stuck in my hair, I lowered my hand and saw myself holding a loose tooth. "I heard a howl of fear, but why fear?
My ears were ringing, I couldn't think straight.
Yudi was lying back.
His skull sprawled across the sand, stained by a scarlet puddle.
"Oops, my bad, loose finger and all that."
"You motherfucker!" I lunged toward Mice, the barrel of his gun slowly turning towards me.
"No, no, no! I don't think so! If you lot wish to stay alive and not get a one-way ticket straight to Lust, where we already have some scouts ready to capture you, I must point out, you will behave!"
All that, just to become someone's toy again, I could hardly believe it.
Looking at Yudi's body, I wondered if he had felt any pain, the harder I made it for Mice, the better. Maybe if I were quick, I could escape the collectors in Lust.
But then, while I pondered, others acted.
The old man lunged at one of Mice's companions, biting his neck with all his might. The second one, startled, reached for his holster, but John quickly grabbed his legs, bringing him down to the ground.
They were willing to fight, to die for a chance.
Mice turned the gun towards them, pumping the shotgun once again. "Damn it, can't you do anything right? Stay still! I can't aim like this!"
I saw the opportunity and grabbed the shotgun.
A deadly tug-of-war ensued, punches and kicks thrown in an attempt to take control of the weapon, the power to kill. I was malnourished, still weak, tired, and slightly high. Mice was an experienced Collector, a bloodthirsty killer who had faced demons head-on. It was only a matter of time before he overpowered me.
I gave up pulling the shotgun towards me and pushed it with all the weight of my body towards Mice. We fell and rolled in the dry sand, the gun stopping a few feet ahead.
I crawled to the shotgun, Mice holding onto my feet and pulling me into another exchange of punches.
I don't know what came over me, all the anguish, all the fury and fear accumulated until that moment exploded into rage. I gave up on the gun and threw myself at Mice, landing repeated punches to his head.
Again, adrenaline is a powerful drug.
Screaming, without full control of my arms, I punched, I punched until Mice's face was nothing but a red mess, until his arms stopped retaliating, until his chest stopped breathing. I continued until tears filled my eyes and sobs choked my throat.
I looked at my hands, and the weight of what I had done became clear in my mind.
Killing a person changes you; you can feel life slipping away from their eyes. Even in that place, where death is just the beginning of another cycle of pain, it still holds its weight.
The old man's screams of pain snapped me out of my trance. His efforts were admirable, but he was eventually thrown to the ground, where the Collector attempted to strangle him. I grabbed the shotgun, and out of pure instinct, I struck the Collector's head with all my strength. He immediately fell onto the old man, the base of the gun now adorned with a red stain.
Looking to the side, John was trying to wrest the gun from the Collector, without success. In the distance, I could see dust rising; we weren't alone. The king had noticed that something was amiss.
The old man took the gun from my hands and opened a hole in the Collector's chest, who collapsed like a house of cards onto the dry ground.
The spire was visible; we needed to go. With John in my arms, I ran.
"Leave him behind! He'll do nothing but slow us down!"
I could feel John's embrace tighten. He knew he was a burden; he knew what they would do to him if we left him behind. I could feel his fear.
Ignoring the protests, I headed towards the spire.
They were getting closer; I could discern the caravan amidst the cloud of dust.
Upon reaching the spire, Aecus's judgmental gaze bore down on us coldly. Remembering Mice's words, I approached.
"Oh Aeacus! King of Aegina, my heart is not pure for rest, my eyes are blind to injustice, and my fists only weigh for my desires. From dust I came and to dust I return, my soul judged to forever burn, so I beg you to open the doors to my torment."
His cold gaze remained unmoved; the Spire would not heed my words.
"This won't work. We need to go to the lower circles. It would be incredible if we could get Rhadamanthus's attention, but at the top of Hell, it's hard for him to hear us."
"What do we do now? I've done my part; I got us out of the city. Do yours and take us to the Ninth Circle!"
The old man looked at me, his eyes burning with fury; for a moment, it seemed like there was a dark gleam in his eyes. He calmed himself and approached the entrance.
The followers of the morning star follow his teachings in exchange for secrets and powers greater than a mere sinner could ever dream of. How to survive in such a ruthless terrain, how to tame and enchant demons and spirits, how to change oneself.
The old man whispered words in a convoluted language forgotten by time. Aecus began to chant in response, and the spire trembled in anticipation, the chamber taking on a sinister glow.
Without looking back, the old man said, "A wish for a wish, a will for a gift, Blood taken in exchange for bliss"
"What the fuck are you?" I asked.
"Nathanael, you have a choice to make. Do you want to escape Hell? Do you want your life back?"
"Of course!"
"Then John must die."
A chill ran down my spine. Nothing comes easy in the abyss. Only pain, only suffering.
John begged for mercy, and in my mind, I knew what I had to do, the price Minos demanded for his services. The old man merely watched me.
John fought, struggled until the last second.
He threw himself off my back and crawled through the sand towards the caravan, which was slowly approaching.
"I'm sorry, John."
I dragged him by the stumps of his legs into the depths of the spire. He tried to cling to the ground, breaking his nails in the process. I threw him against the inner wall, and in that moment, both of us could feel it.
The Spire would claim him.
There would be no turning back; death would be eternal. Nothingness would embrace him.
I had to ensure he wouldn't escape.
With tears in my eyes, I broke his arms, his screams still haunt me. Even to this day, I suffer from it; every morning, I hear his whispers, every night, his screams keep me awake.
I did what I had to do to survive.
I wished there was another option. I wished so much that John was still by my side, but Hell was devised in such a way that even something as simple as friendship is only allowed for punishment.
I tried to be quick. With one of the rocks from outside, I broke his knees, turned around, and left.
"Nate, please! Please, Nate, don't do this to me! You bastard, what did I ever do to you? I hope you suffer, you piece of shit! Burn a thousand times in the deepest pit of this place!"
When I left, a black mass flooded the chamber, and I could see as Nate was consumed by the Spire. Until the moment they were dissolved, his eyes never stopped looking at me in that way, with palpable hatred.
At that moment, I realized that everything I had suffered until then was justified, I belong in Hell.
I tried to warn; I am not a good person.
The mass took on a purple glow, and the old man quickly pulled me inside. The last thing I saw before disappearing was the red glow of Jack's ring approaching in the caravan.
The air in Heresy is putrid, a constant miasma floats in the air like snowflakes, slowly filling your lungs and eventually killing you.
Outside the Spire in the center of the 6th circle, I noticed for the first time a strange mark on the back of my left hand.
A delta adorned with thorns.
But at that moment, I couldn't focus on it; all I could do was cry, huddled near the Spire, wondering if it was all really worth it.
"Let's go, he doesn't like to wait."
"Who?"
He looked at me, with a somber look in his eyes.
"Samael, the Morning Star, the true Lord of Hell."
These memories pain me, my hands tremble, and my eyes filled with water make it difficult to write.
I also still haven't fully recovered from the beating I took from that angelic being, so for today, we'll stop here.
Hell is an eternal prison, where everything and everyone are made and placed in such a way that at any moment they can be used against you.
Only pain will bring you a semblance of security, only agony will bring you power.
In this insane realm of trades, I should have realized that even the way out would exact a terrible price.