#Apex Data Sciences

[apexcovantage]

Generative AI | High-Quality Human Expert Labeling | Apex Data Sciences

Apex Data Sciences combines cutting-edge generative AI with RLHF for superior data labeling solutions. Get high-quality labeled data for your AI projects.

[jungkoode]

THE 25TH HOUR | O9

“𝐓𝐑𝐔𝐒𝐓 𝐅𝐀𝐋𝐋”

“We’re designed to fit,” he says, and you don’t know if he means your powers, your patterns, or the way your hand doesn’t shake in his.

next | index

— chapter details

word count: 6,7k

content: reality anchors, the quantum physics are quaking, yoongi being bossy again (and hot about it), elevator scene tension 10/10, jumping across buildings like it's casual (it is NOT), spatial distortion flirty edition, golden tendrils 2.0 (they touched... physically and emotionally??), temporal signature matching (yes it’s hot), someone finally says “we’re designed to fit” and i screamed, drone murder attempt ig, jungkook makes a dramatic entrance and is so annoying about it, team regroup ft. unexplained powers and too many secrets, portal time but make it traumatic.

— author’s note

KAY. LISTEN.

I know I say this every chapter but THIS ONE. this one fried several neurons and may have permanently altered the molecular structure of my spine. I started with “hm what if they walked through a reality anchor” and ended with “what if they synchronized their temporal signatures mid-freefall and touched tendrils in public like absolute whores.” I don’t know what to tell you. I blacked out. This is between me and my caffeine addiction now.

Let’s talk about the jump scene. Yes. You clocked it. That moment where Noma is calculating the distance and Yoongi says “don’t think, just need” and then she LAUNCHES HERSELF INTO THE VOID? Yeah. That may or may not have been deeply inspired by Neo’s rooftop jump in The Matrix (1999, my beloved). I am a massive Matrix nerd. That whole visual of someone standing on the edge of a building, trying to defy the physics they were born into, and being told “your mind is the thing in your way”? It’s been living rent-free in my frontal lobe since I was 13 and thought trench coats were peak fashion.

Because this chapter is, like, extremely about trust. And control. And the horror of not understanding what’s happening inside your own body. It’s about Noma confronting the fact that her mind—her beautiful, precise, analytical mind—is what’s limiting her. And Yoongi, who already knows, who’s BEEN like this longer, who knows what it’s like to break through that threshold and feel the laws of reality tilt around your perception, he’s just THERE. Guiding her. Softly threatening to reset time like a feral little guardian angel.

Also… let’s not ignore the fact that she destroys a drone with her brain and he’s like “cool. moving on.” Sir?? She just folded metal into origami. But okay go off I guess.

AND THEN THEY SYNCH TEMPORAL SIGNATURES. don’t even look at me. I wrote that and sat there like “huh. interesting. so that’s what soulmates sound like in science fiction.” I had to go walk around the block. I made them fit on a molecular level. I made their body chemistry harmonize. Why? Because I am unwell and this is my therapy.

Anyway. Thanks for reading I love you all. Scientifically.

— read on

ao3

wattpad

Reality Anchors are alive.

No one ever told you that part. No briefing, no memo, no research paper had ever mentioned that these imposing structures breathe.

The anchor in front of you rises 37.2 meters from ground to apex, its surface composed of quantum-stabilized alloy that shouldn't—couldn't—pulse like that.

Yet it does. Every 7 seconds, a wave of molecular adjustment ripples from base to tip, disturbing air molecules in concentric patterns that register against your skin at precisely 0.3 pascals of pressure.

Fascinating.

Your retinas register the faint blue luminescence emanating from seams in the structure-temporal energy bleeding through containment fields. 

It feels like reality itself is being compressed into a more efficient configuration.

"Mesmerizing," you murmur, cataloging the observable data. "The quantum-stabilized glass panels are oriented at exactly 73 degrees to maximize temporal field distribution. And the energy consumption must be—”

"No."

You blink, neural processes stuttering at the interruption.

Agent Min has stopped walking and turned to face you fully, his stance registering as 37% more rigid than his baseline.

"I didn't say anything," you point out, tilting your head 12 degrees in genuine confusion.

"Didn't have to." His eyes narrow by approximately 0.3 centimeters.

"Then what are you saying no to?"

"You know what."

"I genuinely don't." Your brow furrows, creating a 0.4-centimeter depression between your eyebrows. "It seems statistically improbable that you could accurately predict my thought patterns without established baseline data."

His mouth twitches—suppressed micro-expression, 0.7 seconds in duration.

"Were you or were you not thinking of using a little detour to satiate that insane curiosity of yours?"

Your silence registers at approximately 3.2 seconds. 

Longer than optimal for casual conversation.

"Exactly. No."

"I find your anticipation of my mental processes presumptuous," you counter, eyes returning to the reality anchor when the uppermost floors shimmer slightly—a temporal distortion effect that standard human vision would filter out. “And I do not appreciate it.”

"Get used to it," he says, resuming walking at a pace 7% faster than before. "You will."

You match his stride automatically.

"The probability of you developing accurate predictive models of my cognitive patterns seems—”

"Already developed," he interrupts, checking his modified Chrono-Sync Watch with a quick glance. "Seventh time you've tried to investigate a reality anchor. Always the same pattern."

This statement contains multiple logical inconsistencies. You've never attempted to investigate a reality anchor before. Your security clearance wouldn't permit it.

Yet your temporal analysis centers don't flag it as a falsehood.

"How would you know that?" 

He doesn't answer, instead gesturing toward the adjacent tower—a colossal structure of similar materials that rises at least 100 floors into the artificially blue sky.

"Travel spot is somewhere in the upper levels," he says, eyes scanning the building's facade. "We need to access it through the anchor first."

You process this information, calculating optimal routes.

"Why can't you pinpoint the exact location?" you ask, question emerging from your analytical centers. "Your previous statements implied familiarity with the network."

His jaw tightens by approximately 4.3 newtons.

"Travel spots shift position by 0.7 meters every 73 minutes," he explains, voice roughened. "Quantum uncertainty principle applied to spatial coordinates. Prevents CHRONOS from establishing fixed monitoring."

"That seems inefficient for a resistance network," you observe.

"That's the point." He checks his watch again—third time in 7.3 minutes. "Inefficiency creates unpredictability. CHRONOS systems are designed for pattern recognition."

You approach the base of the reality anchor, where a standard-looking entrance is monitored by temporal signature scanners disguised as decorative elements.

"How do we bypass security?" you ask, noting at least three visible monitoring devices and calculating a 94.7% probability of additional concealed systems.

"We don't," he says, reaching into his jacket and extracting what appears to be a standard CHRONOS identification card. "We walk in like we belong."

The card in his hand triggers your pattern recognition— holographic security features match authorized maintenance personnel credentials.

"Falsified identification carries a minimum penalty of 73 days in temporal isolation," you note automatically.

He almost smiles—left corner of his mouth lifting 0.2 centimeters.

"Only if you get caught."

He approaches the entrance with casual gait, and you follow—still processing the anchor's structure. 

The quantum equations rippling across its surface follow a pattern that suggests...

"I told you to stop analyzing," he murmurs, voice barely audible at 17 decibels. "Your temporal signature fluctuates when you're thinking too hard. Makes you detectable."

You attempt to modulate your thought patterns, an unusual exercise that creates a 0.3-second lag in your cognitive processing.

He swipes the identification card through the scanner, which responds with a soft tone at exactly 432 Hz—the standard confirmation frequency.

The interior of the reality anchor is even more fascinating than its exterior.

The lobby appears standard-neo-minimalist design, temporal-stabilized plants arranged at mathematically significant intervals—but your enhanced perception detects the subtle wrongness of the space.

The air pressure is precisely 0.7 kPa higher than standard atmospheric conditions. 

The lighting pulses at a frequency of 7 Hz, which is imperceptible to normal human vision but clearly designed to reinforce temporal compliance in visitors.

"Maintenance elevator is on the left," Agent Min says, guiding you with a subtle gesture. "Don't look at the central column."

Naturally, your eyes immediately flick toward the center of the lobby.

The sight momentarily overloads your visual processing. 

A column of pure temporal energy rises from floor to ceiling, contained within quantum-stabilized glass. The energy moves in patterns that defy standard physical laws—simultaneously flowing upward and downward, existing in multiple states… at once?

"I said don't look," he hisses, fingers closing around your wrist to redirect; not enough to cause discomfort.

"What is that?" you ask, unable to fully suppress your curiosity despite his warning.

"The anchor point," he says, voice tightening as he guides you toward the maintenance elevator. "Direct connection to the Master Clock. Looking at it too long causes temporal vertigo in most humans."

You save this information, filing it under high-priority data.

"And in non-humans?"

His steps falter—0.3-second hesitation.

"In Outliers," he corrects quietly, "it can trigger awakening."

The maintenance elevator requires another scan of his falsified credentials. 

As the doors close, enclosing you in a space of approximately 2.3 cubic meters, you notice the absence of standard temporal monitoring devices.

"Why aren't there cameras?" you ask, scanning the ceiling corners where monitoring equipment would typically be installed.

"Reality anchors generate too much temporal interference for standard surveillance," he explains, pressing the button for floor 30. "Creates blind spots in their system."

"That seems like a significant security vulnerability," you observe.

His mouth quirks again.

You don’t know why you’re starting to find the gesture attractive.

"Why do you think we're using it?"

The elevator ascends at precisely 3.7 meters per second, which you note is faster than standard civilian elevators but slower than executive transport. Your inner ear registers the acceleration, adjusting automatically.

"The travel spot," you begin, mind working through the problem. "You said it's in the upper levels of the adjacent tower. Why can't we access it directly?"

He leans against the elevator wall, posture relaxing by approximately 7%.

"Security protocols," he says. "The tower has standard monitoring. The anchor doesn't. We cross through the anchor's 30th floor-maintenance level, and then we use the connecting bridge to access the tower."

"And after that?"

"After that, we find the travel spot." He checks his watch again—fourth time in 12.7 minutes. "It should be somewhere between floors 90 and 97."

You calculate the search parameters.

"That's approximately 7,432 square meters of potential location space," you note. "Seems inefficient."

"I'll narrow it down once we're closer," he says. "My temporal sense can detect the quantum fluctuations at closer proximity."

The elevator slows as it approaches floor 30, and Agent Min straightens, resuming his alert posture.

"When we exit, walk like you're supposed to be here," he instructs. "Maintenance personnel check this level every 73 minutes. Current interval gives us approximately 47 minutes before the next sweep."

"Understood," you confirm, automatically adjusting your posture to match standard CHRONOS maintenance staff parameters—shoulders back, gaze forward, movements economic and purposeful.

The elevator doors open to reveal a stark corridor illuminated by temporal-stabilized lighting. 

Walls are lined with quantum-reinforced panels marked with mathematical equations that your pattern recognition identifies as temporal field calculations.

Agent Min steps out first, fluid and confident. 

You follow, checking every detail of this restricted environment that few civilians ever see.

"Don't touch anything," he warns, leading you down the corridor. "Some of these panels are directly connected to the temporal field generators."

You resist the urge to examine the equations more closely, focusing instead on maintaining the appropriate walking pace and posture.

"The connecting bridge is 23 meters ahead," he says, voice low. "Once we cross, we'll need to take the service stairs. The tower's elevators are monitored."

"Stairs?" you query, calculating the energy expenditure required to ascend approximately 60 floors. "That seems—"

"Necessary," he interrupts. "Unless you'd prefer to explain to CHRONOS why we're accessing restricted floors."

You concede the point with a slight nod.

15 degrees downward, 15 degrees upward.

As you walk, your mind continues processing the reality anchor's structure, the equations on the walls, the subtle vibration beneath your feet that suggests massive energy manipulation occurring somewhere below.

"You're thinking too loud again," Agent Min murmurs, not turning to look at you.

"That's not physically possible," you counter automatically.

"Your temporal signature disagrees," he says, tapping his temple with his index finger. "I can feel it fluctuating."

This statement contains another logical inconsistency. 

Standard humans cannot detect temporal signatures without specialized equipment.

Yet once again, your temporal analysis centers don't flag it as a falsehood.

"How—" you begin.

"Bridge is just ahead. Stay close."

But the bridge…

It’s not offline. It’s gone.  

You stare at the empty space where reinforced glass and temporal alloys should’ve formed a secure pathway. 

Only support beams remain, jagged edges still glowing from whatever energy weapon severed them.  

Agent Min’s eyebrows do something statistically improbable—contracting inward by 0.9 centimeters while the skin between them folds into three distinct creases. 

You’ve never seen his face execute this particular combination of micro-expressions before.  

“They altered this sector’s infrastructure,” he mutters, more to himself than you. 

His left hand twitches toward his Chrono-Sync Watch, aborting the movement halfway.  

You pivot toward the window, retinal sensors catching a faint outline-maintenance door, 3.2 meters left of the destroyed bridge. 

Beyond it: a sheer drop, then the adjacent tower’s western face. 

Your mind calculates the distance before your ethics committee can veto the idea.  

“We could jump.”  

He doesn’t immediately dismiss it. 

That’s how you know things are bad.  

“Distance?” he asks, joining you at the window.  

“14.7 meters horizontally, 3.3 meters vertical elevation differential.” You tap the glass, triggering a subconscious visualization overlay. “Structural analysis indicates the target building’s exterior has adequate grip points for—”  

“For me,” he interrupts. His breath fogs the glass near your fingertip. “Not for you.”  

You tilt your head, analyzing his profile. “You’re suggesting I remain here while you—”  

“I’m suggesting you stop suggesting suicide vectors.” His jaw works, a muscle ticking at 2.7-second intervals. “There’s another route. Has to be.”  

You let him pace—eight steps toward the elevator, twelve back—before interrupting.  

“Average human long jump record is 8.95 meters. My enhanced musculature could theoretically—”  

“Theoretically splatter across sixty floors of neo-Brutalist architecture.” 

You frown. “We’re only thirty floors up.”

“From the anchor,” he says. “The tower’s foundation sits two levels below base-grade. It drops into a full infrastructure pit—ventilation shafts, temporal gridwork, CHRONOS substation access. You fall here, you don’t just hit pavement. You keep falling.”

He gestures down through the glass.

“Sixty floors straight into the sector’s hollowed-out gut. Like getting thrown down a well lined with concrete and death.”

How does he even know all that?

But before you can let curiosity get the best of you again, he stops mid-stride, pinning you with that look again. The one that makes your internal processors skip. 

“But—”

“No.”  

You frown, press your palm against the window, feeling the tower’s vibration through the glass. 

“Then you go first. Anchor a line. I’ll follow.”  

He’s already shaking his head. “Temporal energy doesn’t work like that. Can’t manifest solid constructs without—”  

“Without triggering every sensor in the sector. Yes.” You turn from the window, meeting his glare. “So, again, that leaves one option.”  

For three seconds, the only sound is the reality anchor’s low-frequency hum. 

Then he swears—a creative combination of English and technical jargon your language centers can’t fully parse.  

The maintenance door handle feels colder than ambient temperature suggests. You’re calculating wind shear variables when his gloved hand covers yours, halting the motion.  

“If we do this,” he says, voice stripped to its raw edges, “you follow my instructions exactly. No deviations. No calculations mid-air. Understood?”  

You nod, the movement precise. 

15 degrees down, 15 up.  

He releases your hand to grip both shoulders instead, leaning in until his mint-and-ozone scent overrides the tower’s sterile air. 

“When you jump, you don’t think about falling. You don’t think about distance. You think about needing to be on that ledge. Your entire existence becomes that single purpose.”  

You open your mouth to request clarification on biomechanical feasibility—

“No.” His fingers tighten. “No questions. Your body knows how. You just have to stop overloading it with doubt.”  

The paradox registers immediately. 

“But without understanding the mechanism—”  

“Understanding comes later.” His thumb presses into your collarbone, exactly where that freckle hides beneath synthetic fabric. “Surviving comes now.”  

You glance past him to the abyss. 

He opens the door.

The wind’s howling at 37 knots now, whipping hair into your eyes. 

“Probability of success?”  

He doesn’t sugarcoat it. “Sixty-eight percent. If you focus.”  

“And if I don’t?”  

For the first time, his face contracts—a fractional widening of pupils, a minuscule catch in his breathing rhythm.  

“Then I’ll reset time until you do.”  

The words register as raw, hovering between you for a few seconds before he finally turns toward the void.  

You watch him leap—no hesitation, no visible calculation. Just pure intent translated into motion.  

He makes it look effortless.  

And then it’s your turn.  

The wind screams. The city sprawls below, a mosaic of blue-lit grids and shadow. 

You psych up the variables: air density, potential updrafts, the exact angle of your target ledge.  

Then you stop thinking.  

You launch, and the world narrows to wind and numbers.

For a moment, there’s no sound, no up or down. Just velocity and the impossible distance between you and the ledge. 

Adrenaline floods your system, not sharp but heavy, like a stone pressed to your sternum. 

You’re aware of your own mass, the drag of your body through air, the way your limbs cut a path no algorithm could ever predict.

Agent Min is already there, turned halfway, eyes tracking your arc. His mouth moves—maybe a warning, maybe your ID number—but the rush drowns it out. 

You think of the other side. You need to reach the other side. 

The imperative is simple, absolute. 

Not crossing means plummeting. Not crossing means becoming a data point in a CHRONOS incident report.

You make the mistake of looking down.

Thirty floors up, the city is abstract. 

Cars, people, light—all reduced to static. 

The void is real. 

You feel it in your teeth, in the way your stomach seems to invert, in the cold sweat prickling your palms. 

Your calculations fracture. The ground is coming up fast.

You look up. 

Agent Min’s silhouette sharpens against the skyline, mint hair a streak of color in the blue haze. His eyes widen—first time you’ve seen that particular fear. 

He’s reaching for something, or maybe just reaching.

You’re falling.

The world tilts. Air roars past your ears. Time dilates, then contracts. 

You’re aware of every heartbeat, every useless attempt your muscles make to grab onto empty space. 

The ledge is gone. The city is too close.

Then—discontinuity.

You’re upright. Feet planted on solid ground. Breath caught in your throat. 

Your hands move before your mind does, fingers flexing, checking for fractures, for blood, for any sign of what should have happened. 

Everything responds. No pain. No missing time.

Agent Min spins, posture radiating pure stress and panic. 

His face is a study in shock—mouth open, eyes blown wide, like he’s seen a ghost.

You blink. He blinks.

Your heart is still racing, but your body is whole. You’re here. You made it. The numbers don’t add up, but the outcome is undeniable.

You’re alive.

Agent Min’s gaze darts between your left and right pupils, rapid assessment mode engaged, as if he’s scanning for damage or data.

“Damn it, Noma,” he mutters, voice rough and frayed at the edges. “Holy hell.”

His hands clench into tight fists at his sides, knuckles whitening under the strain. 

You note the micro-tremor in his fingers-2.3 hertz, consistent with suppressed impulse. 

He exhales, a controlled release of 1.7 liters of air over 3.1 seconds, then drags a gloved hand down his face, smearing frustration across his features.

Before you can catalog further, a mechanical whine pierces the air-high-pitched, 17 kHz, consistent with a CHRONOS surveillance drone. 

Agent Min’s posture shifts instantly, weight forward, arm half-raised to shield or shove you aside. 

“Watch—”

You tilt your head back, a reflex, not a decision. 

There’s a sound—metal crumpling, like foil under pressure—and the drone’s frame twists mid-flight, folding inward at impossible angles. 

It drops, a lifeless heap, 4.7 meters below the ledge.

He stares at the wreckage, then at you. 

“Well. Alright then.”

Your mind is already running diagnostics. 

“Did I cause that?”

He lets out a long, resigned breath, shoulders dropping by 1.2 centimeters. 

“Yeah. You did.”

“How?” 

Your spatial awareness logs are blank—no memory of intent, no record of action. Yet the evidence is undeniable: twisted alloy, a perfect collapse. 

You flex your fingers again, searching for a trigger, a mechanism. “Was that a manipulation of spatial configuration? A localized distortion field? I need parameters.”

He steps closer, mint and ozone cutting through the sterile tower air, but his expression is all weariness. 

“We gotta move, Noma. Now.”

You plant your feet, shifting your center of gravity to counter his subtle pull. 

“Explanation required. Did I alter the drone’s physical positioning? Compress its structural integrity via spatial warp? Or—”

He makes a sound full of resignation. 

“Look, Noma, I l—”

He cuts himself off, jaw snapping shut with an audible click. 

A recalibration. 

“I get it. I do. But we don’t have the luxury of a debrief right now.”

Your brow creases, a 0.5-centimeter furrow. 

“Understanding the mechanics of an undocumented ability is not a luxury. It’s a necessity. If I can replicate—”

“You will,” he interrupts, voice low but firm, carrying a weight you can’t parse. “Just not here. Not with drones sniffing our temporal signatures.”

You glance at the wreckage again, mind spinning through theoretical models. 

No data, no precedent. 

Just a gut—deep certainty that you reshaped reality without conscious input. 

The implications are staggering. 

If you can do this instinctively, what else lies dormant? What are the limits? Energy costs? Detection risks?

He’s watching you, reading the cascade of queries behind your eyes. “I know that look. And I’m telling you to shelve it. We’re exposed.”

“Five seconds,” you negotiate, already cross-referencing the drone’s design against known CHRONOS tech. “If I can isolate the method—”

“Zero seconds.” He grumbles, fingers wrapping around your wrist and pulling you behind him. “Survival first. Science later.”

Your logic centers protest, but the risk assessment aligns with his. 

You exhale—petulant, probably, but you do not care. 

Because whatever you did, it’s a piece of the puzzle. A fragment of who—or what—you are. 

And you’ll dissect it, variable by variable, until the equation balances.

You don’t realize you’ve been holding your breath until the air shifts.

Up here, it tastes different. 

Thinner. Filtered, maybe. Like someone cleaned it too well, stripped it of anything real. 

The ground is nothing but blur—washed out in streaks of artificial white and synthetic blue haze. Designed to erase depth perception. To flatten the concept of below into something distant. Forgettable.

CHRONOS engineering at its finest.

You step closer to the edge, boots scraping faintly against the metal grating. 

The city is unrecognizable from this height. Not a city at all, just layers of grids and light. Soft pulses of movement that don’t quite feel alive. No wind reaches this far up, only some sort of hum—low, steady, mechanical. 

You wonder if the workers stationed here can still hear it when they sleep. 

If they ever sleep.

You’ve read the reports. Rotating shifts, twenty-hour cycles, neural stimulants to bypass natural fatigue responses. Cognitive degradation flagged as acceptable collateral. Worker retention rate at 37.2%.

In other words: not sustainable.

But great pay.

You press your fingertips lightly to the edge of the railing. Cool to the touch. Grounding, somehow. 

You scan the skyline, calculating angles, distances, escape vectors you’re not sure you’ll ever need but catalog anyway. 

That’s what you do. 

What you’ve always done.

But the sky pulls at you. Quietly. Persistently.

Dark velvet stretched wide above your head, broken only by the scatter of stars. 

You tip your chin back, gaze locking onto a thousand silent points of light, each one burning impossibly far away. 

Data points you can never reach, but something in you reaches anyway.

And there—framed in that endless black—

The moon.

Not in any model you’ve ever studied. Not filtered through facility-grade optics or distorted by atmospheric interference. 

Just… suspended. Brilliant. Whole. A perfect sphere painted in shades of silver and shadow. 

It’s too much, too big. 

Your breath catches again, chest tightening like something fragile just cracked open inside you.

It escapes before you can stop it. A single word.

“Beautiful.”

Soft. Uncalculated.

You freeze the second it leaves your mouth, pulse stuttering in your throat. 

You didn’t mean to say that. 

You never mean to say things like that.

A breath stirs the space beside you. Not yours.

“…Yeah.”

Quiet. Barely more than air.

“…Beautiful.”

The confirmation scrapes against something unsteady inside you. 

You shouldn’t turn. You know you shouldn’t. But your gaze shifts anyway, slow and reluctant, as if giving your body too much permission might undo you entirely.

He’s already watching.

Agent Min.

Not the skyline. Not the moon. Not the impossible stretch of space yawning above you.

You.

And he doesn’t look away.

For a suspended second, nobody speaks. 

Then his eyes flicker gold. 

It's the seventeenth time you've seen it happen. Seventeenth. You've been keeping count, tracking when it occurs, searching for the pattern. Not random—nothing about him is ever random—but the trigger remains frustratingly elusive. 

Is it emotional response? Memory access? Some kind of power regulation failing?

You step closer until you can detect the subtle heat radiating from him—always running warmer than human baseline. 

His pupils track your movement, dilating slightly.

A measurable response.

His fingers tighten on the railing, leather creaking under pressure. You note this detail, file it away. 

He stares at you.

You stare back.

"I've been meaning to ask," you say, keeping your voice even despite the strange pressure building under your sternum—like something's trying to expand beyond the confines of your ribcage.

His throat shifts as he swallows. Blinks once.

“Ask what?"

"Your eyes." 

His gaze slides away, avoiding yours for exactly 3.2 seconds before returning. Avoidance behavior. 

Why?

The silence grows heavy between you. 

If you were better at social interactions, you might understand why he doesn't respond. 

But you're not, so you elaborate.

"I have noticed they appear to shine at certain moments." You tilt your head slightly. "The same color as your tendrils. But I can't seem to figure out the why."

His focus drops briefly to your mouth before returning to your eyes. Quick. Almost imperceptible. But you catch it—and the flash of gold that accompanies it. 

Interesting correlation.

He looks at your lips = eyes change.

Cause and effect?

Sexual response?

Your gloved hand lifts toward his face, hovering in the space between you. 

Not touching. Not yet. Just... there. Testing a hypothesis.

"Noma," he says, your nickname rough around the edges. "That's... not advisable."

Why does that name feel so familiar when he says it?

"Why not?" The tilt of your head increases, curiosity sharpening. "I'm collecting data. Your ocular anomalies appear to correlate with specific emotional states."

You watch his pupils expand, blackness swallowing the iris except for that gleaming ring of gold.

"It's not a lab experiment." His jaw clenches, muscle rippling beneath skin.

He's restraining something. But what?

"Everything is data," you counter, your hand still suspended between you. "The gold appears when proximity decreases between us. When conversation shifts toward personal topics. When you look at my—"

You stop yourself. Recalibrate.

"When certain visual attention patterns emerge."

His breath changes rhythm—slower in, quicker out. You track this shift automatically. 

"And what conclusion have you reached based on these... observations?" His voice has become unsteady. 

In it, a roughness that wasn't there before.

The scientist in you needs to categorize it.

The rest of you just wants to hear more of it.

"Insufficient evidence for definitive conclusion." Your palm drifts closer to his face. "Hence the need for additional testing parameters."

"Agent." Warning laces his tone, but you note the contradiction in his body language—the slight forward tilt, the micromovement toward your hand. 

Your watch beeps softly. Temporal variance: 0.87%.

Why does your temporal signature fluctuate around him?

Why does your body recognize patterns your brain can't access?

"The gloves provide sufficient barrier protection for initial contact testing," you say, though in the back of your mind, you know that's not why you want to touch him. Not really. 

"It's not about the barrier," he says, still not pulling away.

"Then what is it about?" 

His eyes lock with yours, longer than his usual pattern. Something shifts in them—not just the color, but something deeper. 

Like barriers cracking.

"It's about..." He pauses, searching for words. "Restraint."

"Explain." 

Not a request. A need.

One corner of his mouth quirks up. "Demanding tonight, aren't we?"

Your hand inches closer. 

"Is that why your eyes change?" You push for answers, always pushing. "A failure of restraint?"

A sound catches in his throat, something between amusement and pain.

"They change when I'm..." He stops, recalibrates. "When I feel things too strongly."

"What things?"

"Anger. Fear." 

His gaze drops to your mouth again, longer this time. 

"Want."

The word settles into your chest, makes a home there. 

Your lungs feel suddenly insufficient, breath coming shorter despite oxygen levels remaining constant.

"And now?" Your voice sounds different to your own ears, pitched lower. "Which is it?"

His hand leaves the railing, wraps around your wrist. Not pushing away—just holding. Containing—touch gentle but unmistakably firm.

"What do you think, Noma?" Your nickname sounds different this time. 

Softer. Almost tender.

Why does it affect you when he says it like that?

You mentally catalog his physiological responses: dilated pupils, elevated respiration, muscle tension patterns indicating both arousal and resistance.

"Want," you determine with absolute certainty.

His eyes flare gold again—holding this time, not flickering away.

"Good analysis," he murmurs, still not releasing your wrist.

Your pulse thrums against his fingers. You can feel it jumping, betraying things your clinical mind refuses to name.

"May I?" Your gloved hand moves closer to his cheek.

Why are you pushing this? Why does it matter?

This isn't efficient data collection.

This is... something else.

His throat works as he swallows. 

"We shouldn't," he says, strain evident in every syllable. "That's my professional assessment."

"We're both still wearing gloves," you argue, logic centers frantically constructing justifications. "Barrier intact. Risk parameters acceptable."

"You know it’s not about statistics." His grip loosens slightly. 

He doesn't elaborate. 

Something complicated moves across his face, too fast for even your pattern recognition to decipher.

You need to know. You need to understand.

Why him? Why you? Why now?

Decision made, your hand pushes forward, breaking through his weakened resistance. Your gloved fingers make contact with his cheek.

And—

Oh.

The sensation defies categorization. Despite the barrier of fabric between you, something passes through the touch. 

A current.

An echo. 

Something your scientific vocabulary can't properly name.

His eyes close. He looks suddenly vulnerable in a way that makes your chest ache.

"Your temporal signature," he says quietly, "it just... aligned with mine."

Your eyes drop to your watch. Temporal variance: 0.00%.

Perfect stabilization.

That's impossible.

There's no precedent for this in any temporal physics model.

"How?" The question slips out, unfiltered and raw.

His eyes open slowly, gold filling them completely now. 

Steady and bright and impossibly beautiful.

Beautiful.

"Because," he says simply, "we're designed to fit."

You should process this information. Should file it away with all your other observations about Agent Min and his inexplicable abilities. Should create new theoretical models to explain the perfect temporal alignment currently registered on your watch.

Instead, you just... feel. 

The warmth beneath your fingers. The impossible gold of his eyes. The way your body seems to recognize him on some cellular level your mind can't access.

‘We're designed to fit.’

The implications of that statement should terrify you. 

Instead, they feel like coming home.​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​

You're staring into his golden eyes when a low whizz cuts through the air. 

Your auditory processing centers register the sound at approximately 17kHz—just within human hearing range, but with a distinct mechanical oscillation pattern consistent with CHRONOS drone propulsion systems.

Before your brain can fully process the threat, Agent Min's head whips around—reaction time approximately 0.3 seconds faster than optimal human baseline. His pupils contract, gold flares brighter, mouth opens to form what appears to be a warning.

Too late.

Something hits you from behind—force vector approximately 47 newtons, angle of impact suggesting deliberate trajectory. The pressure against your back lasts precisely 0.7 seconds.

Then nothing.

Air rushes past your ears at increasing velocity. Your inner ear fluid shifts dramatically, sending conflicting data to your vestibular system. Gravity reasserts its dominance with brutal efficiency.

You're falling.

Again.

Acceleration rate: 9.8 meters per second squared.

Terminal velocity approaching.

Probability of survival without intervention: 0.003%.

The analytical part of your brain calculates these figures automatically while your body experiences what can only be termed as terror—heart rate spike of 73%, adrenal glands flooding your system with cortisol and epinephrine.

"NOMA!"

The sound tears through the rushing air—raw, primal, carrying a frequency range your pattern recognition flags as desperate. 

You twist mid-air, arms instinctively moving to shield your head from inevitable impact.

That's when you see him.

Agent Min. 

Yoongi. 

Falling just above you, body positioned in a perfect diving form that creates maximum aerodynamic efficiency. 

His trajectory indicates purposeful action.

He jumped after you.

He's saying something—lips moving rapidly—but the blood rushing in your ears creates a noise barrier approximately 84 decibels. His words are lost in the chaos of your fall.

Your abilities.

The thought crystallizes with sudden clarity. 

You teleported earlier. Spatial manipulation. If you could replicate that effect now—

Focus. But how? What's the trigger mechanism?

Your thoughts scatter across multiple processing centers, frantically searching for the neural pathway that activated during the previous incident. 

Agent Min never explained the mechanics.

He should have.

You’ll make sure to have that conversation later.

If you survive, that is.

Golden tendrils emerge from his outstretched fingers, extending at velocities that defy standard temporal physics. They reach toward you, pushing against the air itself as if trying to accelerate his fall beyond normal gravitational parameters.

You struggle to replicate whatever neural pathway activated before. Nothing happens. Your fingers flex, your mind focuses, your desperation builds.

What triggered it before? Survival instinct? Specific neural configuration? Direct threat vector?

The golden traces stretch further, now mere centimeters from your reaching hands. Their movement creates visible distortion in the air, like reality itself warping around their influence.

Then—

Something shifts within you. 

Not gradual. 

Not building.

A sudden quantum change in your neural configuration. 

Your cognitive perception splits for exactly 0.7 seconds—awareness operating in multiple states simultaneously.

Tendrils emerge from your own fingertips.

Golden, like his, but fundamentally different. Where his flow like liquid, yours crystallize like faceted gold. Where his move in clockwise patterns, yours rotate counterclockwise.

Opposing rotations. 

Perfect complements.

They reach out—not by your conscious command but through some deeper programming—and intertwine with his traces. The contact creates an immediate energy transfer that registers across your neural receptors as both hot and cold simultaneously.

In the space between one heartbeat and the next, the world blurs. Spatial coordinates shift in ways that violate every physical law you've ever studied. Distance compresses, then expands.

You're in his arms.

The transition happens without intermediate steps—one moment falling separately, the next secured against his chest, his left arm wrapped around your waist with exactly 82% more pressure than necessary for stability.

You register multiple data points simultaneously:

- His elevated body temperature: 39.1°C

- His heartbeat: 172 BPM

- His breathing: rapid, shallow, 24 respirations per minute

- His face: positioned 3.4 centimeters from your cheek, over your shoulder

So close. One small movement would bring skin against skin. 

Your temporal readings spike at the mere possibility.

Before you can process this new configuration, another force vector impacts you both—lateral trajectory, approximately 93 newtons. 

Not from Agent Min. 

External source.

Someone else.

Your coupled bodies are propelled sideways at high velocity. 

The world blurs again as you and Agent Min, still locked together, phase through what appears to be solid matter. 

Glass. Concrete. Steel. 

Your molecular structure should be encountering significant resistance, yet moves through these barriers like they're nothing more than projections.

Quantum tunneling? Spatial displacement? Molecular phasing? Your scientific vocabulary struggles to categorize the experience.

Impact comes suddenly—both of you hitting a solid surface at approximately 37% of terminal velocity. The force disperses through your skeletal structure, joints absorbing kinetic energy at efficiency rates that exceed normal human parameters.

You roll, momentum carrying you across hard flooring. Pain signals to your central nervous system—data indicating tissue stress but not structural failure.

When you finally stop, every bone in your body aches with the signature of controlled landing trauma. 

Not optimal, certainly not comfortable, but survivable.

Survivable by design.

You inhale sharply—2.1 liters of air in 0.8 seconds—and your eyes search frantically for Agent Min.

Where is he? Was he injured in the landing? Who pushed you? How did you phase through solid matter?

Your golden tendrils have vanished, leaving only lingering warmth on your fingertips where they emerged. 

Your watch beeps an unfamiliar pattern: Temporal-spatial variance detected. Recalibration required.

You blink rapidly, visual processing recalibrating as you scan the environment. 

Sleek walls. Polished concrete floor. 

Location unknown. Sector indeterminate.

Blood drips onto your hand. Your nose is bleeding again—heavier flow than before. Your fingertips come away stained crimson. Your skull throbs in pulses, each one making your vision blur at the edges.

"For fuck's sake, Jungkook, you almost killed them!" 

Taehyung's voice cuts through the fog in your head, sharp with that specific tension you've cataloged as his version of concern.

"I was literally on the clock before they became sidewalk art!" Jungkook shoots back, hands gesturing wildly. "Next time maybe give me more than a seven-second window!"

"Seven seconds is generous considering—"

"Generous?" Jungkook's voice cracks slightly. "Try mimicking two completely different abilities at once! My brain feels like it's been microwaved!"

The argument washes over you in waves as you press your palm to your forehead. 

The pain isn't unbearable, just... insistent. 

Demanding attention like everything else in this mess of a situation.

Your eyes find Agent Min, seated on the floor several meters away. His right hand grips his left shoulder, features tightening in a microexpression of pain he's clearly trying to suppress. 

The joint looks wrong—angled slightly off anatomical baseline.

"We don't have fucking time." His voice slices through the bickering, rough-edged and final. "They're onto us."

Jungkook whips around. 

“No shit? Why do you think we had to pull this stunt?" His hand sweeps through the air. "We couldn't even reach you with Taehyung's interfacing—you were completely out of range! Thank god Y/N's abilities are something else entirely."

Agent Min's eyes narrow, focusing on Jungkook with an intensity that carries clear warning. 

Not a word. 

Just that look. 

The one that stops conversations dead.

Jungkook registers it immediately, jaw snapping shut, body language shifting from confrontational to compliant in under a second.

Interesting.

They're hiding something about your abilities.

What exactly don't they want you to know?

Taehyung clears his throat—a sound designed to redirect attention. 

He points behind him toward what can only be described as a tear in reality itself. A circular formation pulsing with quantum uncertainty, its borders shifting between states of matter in ways that shouldn't be physically possible.

"What about base first, arguing later?" he suggests, voice calm in that way people get when they're trying too hard.

You wipe blood from your upper lip. Your eyes find Agent Min again, seeking his reaction. His gaze meets yours briefly before sliding away, gold still lingering at the edges of his irises.

Why won't he look at you properly?

What does he know that you don't?

"What is that?" The question falls from your lips before you can stop it, analytical systems demanding data despite everything else.

"Travel spot. Portal to headquarters," Taehyung answers, shoulders relaxing slightly at the subject change.

You shift your weight, preparing to stand, when your temporal readings spike without warning. The numbers flash red: 3.17%

That's not good.

"Stabilize her," Agent Min orders, voice clipped. "Temporal cascade imminent."

Jungkook moves fast, crossing the space between you in under a second. 

His fingers press against your temporal monitor, executing adjustments with practiced precision.

"Breathing," he instructs, tone sliding into something steadier. "Seven in, seven out. Match me."

The contact triggers something—a flash of memory that doesn't quite feel like yours:

Different hands.

Same words.

"Breathe with me, Noma. Focus."

Pain spikes behind your eyes as incompatible memory patterns try to align. The room tilts slightly.

"What happened up there?" Taehyung asks, attention on Agent Min.

"Temporal ambush," he answers, face tight. "Drones masked behind a reality field."

Taehyung's eyebrows rise. "That's still in R&D."

"Apparently not anymore." Agent Min pushes himself upright, grimacing as his shoulder shifts. "They're adapting faster this time."

This time.

As opposed to when?

"Your tendrils connected with his," Jungkook says quietly as he monitors your readings. "That's what stabilized you both mid-fall."

You blink, memory fragments of golden light intertwining in freefall. 

The way your body reacted without conscious direction. 

The impossibility of the physics involved.

Agent Min moves toward the portal with measured steps. "We need to move before CHRONOS tracks the spatial distortion."

"She deserves to know what she can do," Jungkook says, voice low but firm.

Agent Min stops, spine stiffening visibly. 

“When she's ready."

"And who decides that?" Jungkook challenges, though his hands remain gentle on your monitor. "You?"

The tension between them feels old somehow. Well-worn. Like terrain they've crossed many times.

"Portal stability dropping," Taehyung interrupts, hand cutting through the air. "Either we go now, or we're stuck here."

Agent Min's eyes flick between you and the portal, calculations running visible behind his eyes.

“We are leaving.” He simply mutters, final.

“Of course we are.” Jungkook replies with a hint of something almost like resignation.

Your temporal readings begin to stabilize: 1.47% and decreasing.

Jungkook's hands withdraw from your monitor. "Stable enough for transit."

Agent Min approaches, movements careful despite his obvious discomfort. His right hand extends toward you, gloved palm up.

"The first transit is... disorienting," he says, voice dropping to something softer. "Holding on helps with the spatial realignment."

You stare at his outstretched hand. The leather creases in familiar patterns. The angle of his fingers seems to match your palm perfectly.

‘We're designed to fit.’

His earlier words echo through your mind, connecting dots you didn't even know existed.

"Noma," he says quietly. "Trust me on this one."

The nickname bypasses all your analytical systems, triggering responses you can't explain or quantify.

Your hand moves before your brain fully catches up, fingers sliding into his with strange, impossible familiarity.

Your watch beeps once more: Temporal variance: 0.73%.

Stabilizing.​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​

“Let’s go.”

goal: 275 notes

next | index

— taglist

@cannotalwaysbenight @taevanille @itstoastsworld @somehowukook @stutixmaru @chloepiccoliniii @kimnamjoonmiddletoe @ktownshizzle @yoongiiuu93 @billy-jeans23 @annyeongbitch7 @mar-lo-pap @hobis-sprite0218 @mikrokookiex @minniejim @curse-of-art @cristy-101 @mellyyyyyyx

© jungkoode 2025

no reposts, translations, or adaptations

[probablyasocialecologist]

The reintroduction of wolves to Yellowstone National Park in the 1990s had a cascading effect that benefited the entire ecosystem, a new study finds. The finding shows how the return or loss of apex predators can affect every part of the food web. By the 1920s, gray wolves (Canis lupus) were no longer present in Yellowstone National Park and cougar (Puma concolor) populations were very low, as a result of government initiatives to control large predator populations. Rocky Mountain elk (Cervus canadensis) thrived without these predators, which in turn decimated some plant populations. The loss of some trees and shrubs then threatened beaver populations. This sequence of events is known as a trophic cascade — when the actions of top predators indirectly affect other species further down the food web, ultimately affecting the entire ecosystem.

[...]

The new study, published Jan. 14 in the journal Global Ecology and Conservation, used 20 years' worth of data, collected from 2001 to 2020, regarding willow shrubs (Salix) along streams in Yellowstone. The researchers looked at willow crown volume — the total space occupied by a shrubs' branches, stems and leaves. Measuring crown volume enabled the researchers to calculate the shrubs' overall biomass: the amount of organic material available at the plant level of the food web, and the energy that will be passed on through the food web when animals eat these plants. "Yellowstone's northern range is the perfect natural laboratory for studying these changes. It is one of the few places in the world where we can observe what happens when an apex predator guild, including wolves and cougars, is restored after a long absence," study first author William Ripple, an ecologist at Oregon State University, told Live Science in an email. "The lessons we learn here can apply to other ecosystems globally." The analysis found a 1,500% increase in willow crown volume along streams over the study period, demonstrating a major recovery of these shrubs. The study links this significant willow shrub recovery to a reduction in elk browsing, probably influenced by the return of predators to the region, which enabled willows to grow back in some areas. "One of the most striking results was just how strong the trophic cascade has been," Ripple said. "A 1,500% increase in willow crown volume is a big number. It is one of the strongest trophic cascade effects reported in the scientific literature."

25 February 2025

[hummingbird24220]

The Ace Effect (Part 1)

One Piece x Reader

I cant stop thinking about this man, the fanart i keep seeing doesn't help. I need a cold shower. I ship him with too many people (mostly myself tho ;)) (((I feel like Robin would understand)))

You’ve never been one to believe in fate or prophecy. Science is your thing—data, hypotheses, conclusions. So, when you stumbled face-first into the inexplicable, you reacted like any reasonable, well-educated person would:

You made a presentation.

"—and here," you said, tapping your pointer on the next slide, "we see Exhibit C: Ace and Mihawk. You’ll notice the contrast. It's the scar-tattoo-brood combo. Delicious. Balanced."

Robin sat across from you at the library table, sipping tea like this was a TED Talk she had paid to attend. “Hmm. You’ve done your research.”

“I had to, Robin.” You turned dramatically to face her. “I had questions. Big ones. Existential. Why is Ace so stupid hot? Why would he look good with anyone? Anyone at all? Why do I feel betrayed and like he's emotionally cheating on me with everyone else?”

She smiled. “And your conclusion?”

You clicked to the final slide, which was simply a photo you’d drawn of Ace shirtless, lounging next to Nami, Sanji, Vivi, Smoker, that one sexy fishman guy, and a sword. Not a swordsman. A literal sword.

The title: “Ace: A Versatile Flame. A Study in Universal Compatibility.”

“…I think it’s the freckles,” you whispered.

Robin leaned in slightly. “You may be onto something. They’re quite… whimsical.”

“I know, right?” you hissed.

-

Sanji had passed by earlier, caught a glimpse, and walked away muttering “What the actual hell” with a bleeding nose. Usopp asked if you’d consider putting him in a hypothetical ship chart with Ace, to “test the aesthetic,” and you did—he looked great. You added him to Slide 12.

Zoro saw the chart and left the room in silence. You think he was internally screaming. Good.

Luffy just said, “Cool drawing! I like the one where Ace is holding the cow,” and then left to go fight a cloud.

-

Robin leaned back, satisfied. “You’ve built a compelling case. Though you may have overlooked one important pairing.”

You blinked. “Which?”

She gave you a small smile. “You and Ace.”

Your brain did a full reboot. “I—what—I’m sorry, what?"

Robin pointed calmly to Slide 8, where you had accidentally drawn yourself next to Ace for a height comparison chart. He had his arm slung around your shoulders. You’d given yourself really nice eyelashes.

“…that was for scale,” you said weakly.

“Of course.” Robin sipped her tea. “And scale is important.”

Later that night, you sat on the deck with a sketchbook in your lap, muttering curses as you started a new drawing.

Ace, smiling at you.

Just you.

No Smoker, no fishmen, no sword.

Just you and him and those damn freckles.

And maybe… that wasn't such a mystery after all.

-

You were in full David Attenborough mode.

Hidden behind a barrel (for science), your notebook was open, pen poised, watching Portgas D. Ace interact with the crew like a charismatic apex predator in his natural habitat.

“He’s approaching the chef,” you whispered to yourself, eyes narrowed. “Posture relaxed. Smile: crooked, dumb, and weaponized.”

Sanji laughed at something Ace said.

“Interaction: Positive. Sanji is blushing. Is he blushing?? He’s blushing. Dear god.”

You scribbled frantically:

Sanji + Ace = Flame + Cigarette = FLIRTING?!?!?! (Possibly romantic tension? Check for more encounters. Monitor closely.)

Ace tilted his head back, laughing at one of Sanji’s quips, and Sanji offered him a lighter. Ace, ever the showman, lit his own finger and sparked the cigarette with a wink.

You dropped your pen.

“…That’s seduction. That’s actual seduction.”

Later, he moved on to spar with Zoro.

You ducked behind a barrel again, dramatically flipping the page.

“Subject has shifted zones. New environment: Combat flirtation???”

Zoro was annoyed, Ace was grinning, and there was so much tension you were practically melting. Or maybe that was just the heat. Or your soul leaving your body through your ears.

Zoro + Ace = SWORDS + FIRE = ENEMIES TO LOVERS? (The heat, the sweat, the shared aggression… it’s all there.)

You added an asterisk.

Note: Explore fanart potential. Maybe rain scene. No shirts. Very cinematic.

At some point, Ace caught your eye across the deck and waved. Big smile. Bright eyes. Pure sunshine energy.

You waved back, totally chill.

Totally normal.

Then ducked behind your notebook and started sketching.

Y/N + Ace = ????????????????? (Unstable variable. Dangerous. Possibly terminal.)

You drew little fire emojis and hearts and one tiny gravestone labeled "RIP Me (Death by freckles)."

You didn't even realize Robin was standing behind you until she placed a calm hand on your shoulder.

“You’re spiraling,” she said gently.

You screamed and nearly hurled the notebook into the sea.

“I—I wasn’t—Robin, I can explain.”

She looked at the notes. “Hmm. These equations are getting suspiciously self-incriminating.”

“…I’m a researcher.”

“You’re a simp.”

“…touché.”

[rjzimmerman]

Scavengers like turkey vultures remove millions of tons of waste each year by consuming carrion. U.S. Fish and Wildlife Service

Excerpt from this story from Smithsonian Magazine:

Scavengers are in trouble—and their decline could be harmful to human health.

With many of these creatures that feast on dead animals struggling to survive, scientists say their downfall could lead to a rise in infectious diseases among humans, according to a paper published Monday in Proceedings of the National Academy of Sciences.

For the study, researchers looked at 1,376 vertebrate species known to eat some amount of carrion, ranging from tiger sharks and spotted hyenas to cane toads and common shrews. When they investigated each animal’s status on the International Union for Conservation of Nature (IUCN) Red List, they found that 36 percent are threatened or decreasing in number.

When the team dug even deeper into the data, a more nuanced picture emerged. Large species and those that rely on carrion for survival tend to be imperiled, while smaller species and those that scavenge occasionally are thriving.

Obligate scavengers, or those that only consume carrion, are especially vulnerable. Half of the 17 obligate scavenger species included in the study are considered “vulnerable” or “critically endangered” by the IUCN.

That’s a bad dynamic, because in the wake of their disappearance, some smaller, occasional scavengers—known as mesoscavengers—are proliferating. These creatures, such as rodents and feral dogs, have a tendency to transmit diseases to humans. For example, places where mice and rats are the most abundant scavengers are more vulnerable to outbreaks of illnesses like the bacterial disease leptospirosis and the diarrhea-causing cryptosporidiosis.

In addition, mesoscavengers cannot adequately fill the roles left vacant as their larger counterparts disappear. Smaller scavengers often need to follow larger ones to find rotting carcasses on the landscape. And once they arrive, they typically must wait for the bigger creatures to rip open the decaying remains before they can dig in.

“As we went through the literature, it was a reoccurring pattern that mesoscavengers cannot functionally replace the carrion consumption,” lead author Chinmay Sonawane, a biologist at Stanford University, tells Science News’ Bethany Brookshire.

Why are some species proliferating while others are struggling? Some are just better at adapting to humans, the researchers write. Apex scavengers are disproportionately affected by activities like intensive livestock production, land use changes and the wildlife trade.

Hunters, for example, are more likely to target large animals for consumption and trade, according to the study. Beyond that, apex scavengers are sometimes killed accidentally—hyenas and lions can get caught in wire snares meant for herbivores in Africa. And when hunters kill too many prey animals, there’s often not enough left for scavengers to eat.

Apex scavengers may also accidentally consume toxic substances, such as poison intended for predators threatening livestock, or veterinary drugs found in livestock carcasses.

[askagamedev]

Summer 2025 Game Development Student Internship Roundup, Part 2

Internship recruiting season has begun for some large game publishers and developers. This means that a number of internship opportunities for summer 2025 have been posted and will be collecting applicants. Internships are a great way to earn some experience in a professional environment and to get mentorship from those of us in the trenches. If you’re a student and you have an interest in game development as a career, you should absolutely look into these.

This is part 2 of this year's internship roundup. [Click here for part 1].

Associate Development Manager Co-op/Internship - Summer 2025 (Sports FC QV)

Game Product Manager Intern (Summer 2025)

Music Intern

EA Sports FC Franchise Activation Intern

Associate Character Artist Intern

Client Engineer Intern

Visual Effects Co-Op

Associate Environment Artist Co-Op (Summer 2025)

Game Design Intern (Summer 2025)

Game Design Co-Op (Summer 2025)

Concept Art Intern - Summer 2025

UI Artist Intern - Summer 2025 (Apex Legends)

Assistant Development Manager Intern

Global Audit Intern

Creator Partnerships Intern - Summer 2025

Technical Environment Art Intern - Summer 2025 (Apex Legends)

Intern, FC Franchise Activation, UKI

Tech Art Intern - Summer 2025 (Apex Legends)

Software Engineer Intern

UI Artist Intern

Game Designer Intern

FC Franchise Activation Intern

Software Engineer Intern

Product UX/UI Designer

Software Engineer Intern

Enterprise, Experiences FP&A Intern

Game Designer Intern

Software Engineer Intern

Development Manager Co-Op (Summer 2025)

Software Engineer Intern

PhD Software Engineer Intern

Character Artist Intern

2D Artist Intern - Summer 2025

Software Engineer Intern (UI)

Entertainment FP&A Intern

Game Design Co-Op (Summer 2025)

Data Science Intern

Production Manager Intern

Software Engineer Intern

Channel Delivery Intern

FC Pro League Operations Intern

World Artist Intern

Experience Design Co-Op

Media and Lifecycle Planning Intern

Software Engineer Intern - Summer 2025

Software Engineer Intern - Summer 2025

Intern, FC Franchise Activation, North America

Creative Copywriter Intern

Game Design Intern

Social Community Manager Co-Op

Business Intelligence Intern

Software Engineer Intern (F1)

Total Rewards Intern - MBA level

Intern - Office Administration

Digital Communication Assistant – Internship (6 months) february/march 2025 (W/M/NB)

International Events Assistant - Stage (6 mois) Janvier 2025 (H/F/NB)

Intern Cinematic Animator

Research Internship (F/M/NB) - Neural Textures for Complex Materials - La Forge

Research Internship (F/M/NB) - Efficient Neural Representation of Large-Scale Environments - La Forge

Research Internship (F/M/NB) – High-Dimensional Inputs for RL agents in Dynamic Video Games Environments - La Forge

Research Internship (F/M/NB) – Crafting NPCs & Bots behaviors with LLM/VLM - La Forge

3D Art Intern

Gameplay Programmer Intern

Intern Game Tester

Etudes Stratégiques Marketing – Stage (6 mois) Janvier 2025 (F/H/NB)

Localization Assistant– Stage (6 mois) Avril 2025 (F/H/NB)

Fraud & Analyst Assistant - Stage (6 mois) Janvier 2025 (F/H/NB)

Payment & Analyst Assistant - Stage (6 mois) Janvier 2025 (F/H/NB)

Media Assistant – Stage (6 mois) Janvier 2025 (F/H/NB)

IT Buyer Assistant - Alternance (12 mois) Mars 2025 (H/F/NB)

Event Coordinator Assistant - Stage (6 mois) Janvier 2025 (H/F/NB)

Communication & PR Assistant - Stage (6 mois) Janvier 2025 (F/H/NB)

Brand Manager Assistant - MARKETING DAY - Stage (6 mois) Janvier 2025 (F/N/NB)

Manufacturing Planning & Products Development Assistant - Stage (6 mois) Janvier 2025 (H/F/NB)

Retail Analyst & Sales Administration Assistant - Stage (6 mois) Janvier 2025 (H/F/NB)

UI Designer Assistant - Stage (6 mois) Janvier 2025 (F/M/NB)

Esports Communication Assistant

Machine Learning Engineer Assistant – Stage (6 mois) Janvier/Mars 2025 (F/H/NB)

Social Media Assistant – Stage (6 mois) Janvier 2025 (F/H/NB)

[startw1nk]

Okay so basically I really only have a very very rough draft of the AU... plus some character design ideas... and like ONE name LMAO.. but anywho.

Basically, the AU takes place after the events of TFA. However, Prowl is NOT dead because..well I love him and I say so Also Team Prime is still located on Earth because the big threats never stop ig...Maybe I'll come up with a real reason later..

It focuses on an intel agent with the given designation "Comet" (whos not very good at her job) finding some old experiments in an closed-off lab/quarters. She originally goes to the closed-off area, which just so happened to be "Long-arm Prime's" office-thing idk to destroy Decepticon data and any blackmail on Sentinel because ofc he would do that. She finds what shes looking for and destroys it, but then she finds unfinished and scrapped files and experiments. She figures "Hey, he's not gonna need them anymore...and Sentinel didn't tell me to destroy them..." so she just takes them to study.

She successfully sneaks the data back to her home, and moves the data to where she has a mini-lab (a decommissioned spaceship.) because shes always liked science (😞) and begins trying to finish what Shockwave started. She uncovers the data from an experiment named "Project Predacon". Through a series of events she successfully creates a clone from the DNA/coding Shockwave had left behind from the (assumed) failed project. She has to leave for Intel agent business for a while, and when she returns she finds the little like...clone thing is gone. Or is it? Nope! Just a fully grown predacon! Comet is dumbfounded, not even afraid. Shes extremely proud of herself and is awestruck at the Predacon (yet to be named I will take suggestions...pls). However, she knows that if anyone found out about the predacon then it would most likely be offlined and so would she. So she keeps it hidden.

And throughout all this Comet has a best friend "L" (LaserStrike but she goes by "L") who is beginning to get extremely suspicious. L is training to become a proper scientist and medic, and she really doesn't want Comet to fuck it up. Therefor, L does some digging and eventually finds out about the Predacon. She doesn't immediately go to Sentinel though, because she hates him. And so do I. anyway, she grills Comet on why she created it. Comet just kinda goes "cuz I could?" and she has no idea what to do now.

L ends up assuming,because tensions are still high after the war and Long-arm being Shockwave..so trust issues throughout Cybertron.., that Comet is a decepticon. L makes an anonymous tip to Sentinel that Comet is engaging in decepticon behavior, which leads to an investigation. Comet ends up finding a somewhat working escape pod on the abandoned ship and shoves the Predacon and all the data in there. After promising to come back for the Predacon, she puts in random coordinates into the pod and sends it off. The pod is out of sight right before some of the guards show up with Sentinel. They're unable to find anything, but she's put on probation after making a snarky comment to Sentinel. And she's basically put to work in the office for unreasonable hours every day. (idk the transformers terms for days and hours and such...)

Meanwhile, the pod reaches its destination!!

Earth.

Nothing bad can happen when a new apex predator comes onto Earth! Totally!

But that's all I have currently... I plan on making the decepticons a bigger part of it eventually! I just currently don't know how.. also sorry if this is hard to read I'm not good at writing stuff w/o a template..

[voidandabyssal]

Okay, hoping this is allowed. In regards to Below the Ice, how do you think some of the other Sans' would react to Reader in the same situation? Say Red, Blue, Axe, or Dior? You don't have to answer for all of these if you don't feel like it!

Of course this is allowed! Such a good idea. Hopefully I read this right lol

Red:

Reds more aggressive than Sans. He's not an Orca Siren but a Bull shark Siren. Not exactly known for being cold and calculating. There's definitely more murder attempts, Red is also far more successful at killing off Readers co-workers. This is probably set off the coast of coast of mexico, lots of bull sharks and bull shark sirens congregate there.

He's also more openly flirty though, he's more aware of his feelings to reader than Sans is and he's not shy about checking you out ;)))

Initially, he thinks your just like the other scientists. Dumb, easily manipulatable and an easy meal. You quickly prove him wrong when you successfully manage to trap him under some falling rocks.

Boy does Red love a strong and smart partner. Something about being capable enough to take down an apex predator like him just does it for him.

The two of you get closer once he's under captivity, which is in this au, not for evil science purposes but more so for everyone's (including reds, safety). Once you're on more equal power dynamics you find him to be quite funny and charming when he needs to be.

He's pretty touchy as well, not to the point of it being uncomfortable. He just likes play fighting with you, or just holding onto you.

Blue:

He's a Dolphin Siren! you initially meet him when your scuba diving taking coral samples. He's friendly and inquisitive and all too helpful. Your other colleagues are jealous he approached you this time. Similar to Red, this doesn't take place in the arctic but instead somewhere off the coast of Australia, maybe the Great Barrier Reef.

Yeah, he's definitely known around the area for how kind he is. Tons of youtube videos have gone viral featuring him helping fishermen, scuba divers and even lost swimmers.

ngl, this is probably the best start to your relationship compared to any of the other boys

He often swims circles around you, trying to draw you from your work to play with him, solve puzzles and even tries to get you to meet his brother. Sometimes you relent, sometimes you don't, though you do build a strong friendship.

You fall first but he falls harder.

It just hits him one day. You and him are out swimming, you collecting important marine data and him following you around with a strange stirring in his soul that he can't quite place.

When he sees you helping a small fish out of a plastic bottle. That's when it hits him. He loves you. You're perfect

Axe:

hhrrrrrrgggg pretty human,,,,,,

eyes wide, jaw dropped, STARING,,,,

you first meet when you're out late night fishing. You had been warned of a Giant Pacific Octopus Siren that had recently started inhabiting the area but what did they know??? Certainly not more than you! You'd been fishing round these parts since you were a baby!

"....HOLY SHIT!" is what you screech out, dropping your fishing rod when you see Axe's bright red eye-light looking up from the murky deep.

Yeah you turn right back around and don't come back. Much to Axe's disappointment. Luckily for him, and unluckily for you, he has very long, very powerful tentacles that he uses to pull you into the water with him.

He doesn't drag you under of course, he's smart enough to figure out that you really don't like that.

He's already designated you his mate. Sorry, pal, you're just going to have to make do with the giant octopus Siren cuddling up to you now.

He does let you go eventually, though you do have to repeatedly promise him that you'll come back.

And you do, afraid that he'll come chase you down. Eventually it does come to be a mutually loving relationship, it just takes a little time.

Dior (lusttale Sans):

This time you're the one approaching him. You're a famous wildlife photographer and you have been craving that perfect, career making picture; and you know who you have to photograph.

Dior, a famous lionfish Siren, known for his striking beauty and his charming friendliness to everyone. He proves to be rather elusive. Hard to find, rarely ever in one spot as he's surrounded by many Siren admirers. But you're determined!

finally, after days of bashing up against sharp corals in your search, you find him! Dozing off on a large rock formation. You're steadying yourself for the perfect picture when you notice a much larger Siren sneaking up on Dior, teeth bared and claws sharpened.

"Look out!" You say, or at least try to say through all the bubbles. Dior does manage to wake up though, and quickly pokes the attacker with one of his many poisonous spines.

He thanks you, deciding to pose for you in thanks for you saving him.

When you leave, he assumes you'll never come back. He's too used to people leaving once they've gotten what they want out of him.

He's pleasantly surprised when you come back, without the camera, just wanting to know more about the beautiful but distant Siren.

He doesn't mean to fall as fast and as hard as he does, but being around someone so genuine is such a nice shock to his system he just can't help but fall for your smile.

[hummingbee-o0o]

WIP Wednesday

You know what, fuck it, it's still WIP Wednesday, I say <3 Have Armand being a technology serial killer!

---

Just then, the lights flicker and dim into darkness; Daniel’s laptop is the only source of light in the room, the screen frozen before the video call drops, replaced by a spinning circle that informs him his internet connection is gone.

His first thought is: well, that clip is gonna be viral tomorrow.

His second thought is: Armand.

“Baaaaabe?!” he hollers, getting up, and he’s trying to be cool about this, he really is, but this is twice in a row now.

Vampirism comes with a neat side dish of being able to see in the dark, so he easily navigates his way out of the parlour and makes for the cupboard under the stairs, where the fuse box and other delights are located.

Armand is already there, standing in the opened door and pondering the miserable little corpse of their WiFi router. They always return to the scene of the crime, don’t they.

“Okay,” Daniel says in what is definitely a calm and measured voice. “Not to point fingers here, but what wrong thing did you do?”

Armand prods the router clinically, like one of those early pathologists fiddling about with body-snatched cadavers in the name of science.

“It appears my blenders have caused an overload of our electrical system,” he says. “And that, in addition to the power outage it caused, our router has departed from this world despite the fuses acting as a safeguard.” He prods it again. “Fascinating.”

“Oh, if I hear the F-word one more time…” Daniel growls, then smacks his hand away. “No. Bad gremlin. I’ll handle the fuses — you go use your mobile data to find us a new router. And possibly someone to come in and fortify the whole system.”

“I’m sorry if I disrupted your interview,” Armand says, all meek and doe-eyed apex predator, and Daniel is not buying it for a second.

“Uh-huh. Go get that router.”

---

(From chapter 2 of "5 times Armand interrupts Daniel's online interview +1 time Daniel gets his revenge", which I WILL be posting this weekend, as planned <3

I hope I can make you smile at least a little bit today <3

[spacetimewithstuartgary]

Artificial solar eclipses in space could reveal inner workings of the Sun

Recreating artificial solar eclipses in space could help astronomers decipher the inner workings of our sun much quicker than if they had to wait for the celestial show on Earth.

The plan, part of a U.K.-led space mission to be unveiled at the Royal Astronomical Society's National Astronomy Meeting (NAM 2025) in Durham, would involve the use of a mini-satellite and the moon's shadow to achieve the closest-ever views of the sun's atmosphere.

The Moon-Enabled Sun Occultation Mission (MESOM) proposes a novel way to study the inner solar corona—the innermost layer of the sun's atmosphere, which is usually only visible during fleeting total solar eclipses on Earth.

The research is being presented by scientists from the Mullard Space Science Laboratory at University College London (UCL), Aberystwyth University, and the Surrey Space Center, part of the University of Surrey.

If approved, MESOM could operate for two years and capture the equivalent of 80 Earth-based eclipses—an unprecedented opportunity for solar science which could also help researchers gain important clues about how space weather originates.

MESOM would place a small satellite into a special orbit that allows it to align with the moon's shadow roughly once every 29.6 days—the length of a synodic (lunar) month.

These alignments would mimic the effects of total eclipses, but viewed in space, up to a maximum of 48 minutes—10 times longer than typical eclipses seen from Earth. Unlike terrestrial observations, the satellite would capture data without interference from Earth's atmosphere.

Co-investigator Dr. Nicola Baresi, from the Surrey Space Center, said, "MESOM capitalizes on the chaotic dynamics of the sun-Earth-moon system to reproduce total solar eclipse conditions in space while using the moon as a natural occulter (something which blocks light from a celestial object)."

MESOM's goal is to explore the corona's innermost region, which holds key insights into space weather, solar storms and coronal heating, yet remains poorly understood, partly because it can only be studied under eclipse conditions.

Thanks to its innovative orbital configuration, MESOM would effectively experience a total solar eclipse every synodic month as it naturally passes through the apex of the moon's umbral cone, or the darkest part of its shadow (every two of its revolutions).

This would allow it to see closer to the sun than ever before. For comparison, the European Space Agency's (ESA) existing Proba-3 mission observes the corona out from approximately 1.1 solar radii (765,000 km), while MESOM's would reach below 1.02 solar radii (710,000 km), allowing it to get 56,000 km closer to the sun.

MESOM would carry a suite of instruments, including a high-resolution coronal imager (a telescope to take high-res pictures) proposed to be led by the US Naval Research Laboratory; a corona mass spectrometer (Aberystwyth University and Mullard Space Science Laboratory UCL) to analyze the composition and properties of coronal plasma; and a spectropolarimeter (Spanish Space Solar Physics Consortium, S3PC, Spain) to study the sun's magnetic field and solar phenomena, like sunspots and flares.

Dr. Baresi said, "When the sun is near the orbital plane of the moon, we can experience total eclipses as long as 48 minutes, which would enable unprecedented and prolonged measurements of physical processes from which adverse space weather events, namely solar flares and coronal mass ejections, may originate."

The team submitted MESOM to ESA's F-class mission call in May 2025 and expects a response later this year. If selected, it could be launched between 2026 and 2028.

F-class missions are designed to be smaller, faster, and more cost-effective than ESA's larger "M-class" missions, with a ceiling cost of €205 million (240 million USD) and a development timeline of less than eight years from selection to launch.

IMAGE: Total solar eclipse as viewed from Earth in 2023. Credit: Miloslav Druckmuller, Shadia Habbal, Pavel Starha

[dxviouspsycho]

Muse Biography

Name: Dr. Edgar Cyril Cizko Pronouns: He/Him/His Sexuality: Closeted Bisexual Born: June 22nd, 1973 Ethnicity: Polish/German/Greek Race: Mixed Species: Human Bio:

Formerly the widely beloved Professor of Practical Psychiatric Medicine at the George Washington University Hospital, Edgar was once the apex of his field. He was a proud clinician, a skilled educator, and a loving husband to one Marva Jane Grey-Cizko, his once wife and life partner. Marva, however, was not nearly so faithful.

Teaming up with her at-the-time lover Ben Bradley- a student of Edgar's at the university- Marva framed Edgar for the theft of several thousand dollars worth of military grade Radium. He was falsely convicted and imprisoned at Riker's Island Penitentiary.

The stress of this event, and the long term trauma of prison life, stress-activated his meta-gene. This power was deeply overwhelming, as when it first emerged he would be exposed to the inner thoughts of every other inmate at Riker's, the Corrections Officers, and the Prison Staff. A constant sensory input with no off switch that overwhelmed and drove him to intrusive psychosis and a deep-seeded misanthropy.

Though he was eventually freed and proven innocent, Edgar would never truly recover from the trauma of Riker's Island. In framing him, Marva had created a self-fulfilling prophecy- as Edgar was now the very villain she had convinced the world he was.

After taking his revenge on his ex-wife and her lover, Edgar began expanding into black market crime, selling the personal data of his former patients and using his understanding of science and psychology in tandem with his new powers to dig his claws into every industry he could get his grimy hands on. Education, entertainment, weapons manufacturing, paramilitary private security- anything and everything.

With enough time and hard work, he would rival even Maxwell Lord and Lex Luthor in villainous influence, earning his spot in the Legion of Doom.

He now stands as one of the most dangerous opponents of Diana Prince, and a rightful Secret Six member who has earned his station in the world of Supervillainy.

[wobbbiy]

Getting to know your moots

Thank you for the tag, @prince--esque <3

What's the origin of your blog's title?

I've been running around with "wobbbiy" as my username for multiple platforms. Originally started as my Xbox gamertag. I wanted "wobbly" but that was taken so now it's wobbbiy. It typically gets mistaken for wobbly so that's chill.

Thought it was a cute name. Also, thought it would be endlessly funny to have someone rage in PVP if they ever got killed by someone who is "wobbly". c: This lives free in my head whenever I PVP which is often. Also, if I do bad, it's fine, I'm just a little wobbly, that's all. <3

Favorite fandoms:

OTPs + Ship names:

Ahh. Destiny 2 right now. I tend to find really niche little pockets within fandoms, and I don't know why I'm like that. So, Eliksni specifically and the Hidden Agents are my interests.

Some broader fandoms I'm a part of: Apex Legends (specifically JUST Bloodhound), Dark Souls/Elden Ring/Soulslike games, Red Dead Redemption 2, LotR/Hobbit...Yea.

Those two are my bread and butter. I have appreciations for other ships, sometimes.

Eramis/Athrys (Destiny 2)

Bloodhound/Fuse (Apex)

Favorite colors:

Orange is my favorite color.

Favorite game:

Red Dead Redemption 2...

Weirdest habit/trait:

I am a hoarder of in-game loot. My bank is always full. On Destiny 2, all 700 slots full. It's a struggle! All my games I play like this which makes inventory management extremely stressful!

Hobies:

Video games obvs, going down really random niche lore rabbit holes and hyperfixating (I spend a lot of time doing this), creating game content on TT (I know I'm super lame, but, wait till you see my Fikrul thirst trap ok It's actually hilarious), hiking, writing, drawing, reading, training and hanging out with my dog.

If you could have any job you wish, what would it be?

I already have my dream job! Without disclosing too, too much I get to work with companion animals and in STEM! <3

Something you're good at:

Something you're bad at:

Randomly, video game photography.

Dog training/behavior consulting.

JUMPING PUZZLES IN VIDEO GAMES. I suuuuck so bad. I once rage quitted off of Destiny 2 for literal months because I got stuck in a jumping thing.

Something you excel at:

Being rational and self-aware with my own thoughts and feelings, being able to identify when I'm blowing something out of proportion in my head. Being very cognizant of biases and where sources of information are from. I am very self aware.

Something you love:

Something you hate:

Dogs.

Masked characters (if you can't make out facial features, then I'm a happy Wobb).

Coffee.

Reading headcanon lists (give me bullet points)!

Coercion in any form.

Something you collect:

I don't know!

Something you forget:

People's names often. IDK. I can remember their pets' names but not them lol.

What's your love language:

Absolutely words. I live for verbal praise.

Favorite movie/show:

Pushing Daisies will always be one of my fave shows. Parks and Rec is great. Lost. Movie wise Marvel movies, LotR/Hobbit....UHHH...I don't watch a whole lot of TV/Movies nowadays it's usually true crime podcasts if I'm consuming anything other than game media.

Favorite food:

(ok this made me giggle because @prince--esque had this as well). But my favorite food is butter chicken with garlic naan. It is literally the best food ever and I'm actually making it tonight LOL.

Favorite animal:

Dogs c:

Are you musical?

Myself, no. But music is a big part of my life. I think of myself as having very sophisticated music taste. Whether that's true or not IDK LOL.

Favorite subject in school:

Anything science related. I like data ok.

Least favorite subject:

Math, like statistics are okay, but all other math is not.

What's your best character trait?

IDK man...I think I'm pretty compassionate.

If you could change any detail of your day right now, what would it be?

Not being cold. I'm sitting here wrapped up in a blanket and I'm freezing.

If you could travel back in time, who would you like to meet?

I don't know probably a cowboy from the wild west! LMAO.

Recommend one of your favorite fanfics:

I'm not sure, there are a lot of good ones.

[britannia0]

MONSTERVERSE

x

MURDER DRONES

==============

MECHAGODZILLA - PART 2

note: I've decided to make N's text blue to avoid confusion (and maybe a bit of symbolism). limitations of mobile tumblr, amiright?

-------------------------------------------

[Fwoosh-]

[Slam!]

"Thanks."

"No problem!"

Ugh. Those idiots make me sick. Just why do I deal with this?

..no use complaining. Nothing I can do but follow along.

like always.

"Hey, idiots! Let's get going."

"Bite me! I'm on it."

-

...I don't know what i expected when I followed Uzi down here.

It definitely wasn't..this.

Not..uhm, all of this tech.

I was expecting a JCJenson logo- or anything to signify this was ours.

..we only found something labelled "Apex".

..I think I have a bad feeling about this.

I mean- yeah, sure. What could go wrong? In a..place like this.

[gulp.]

..stay positive, N. Stay positive..

---

3 drones; 2 with installed disassembly and one of hosting nigh-cosmic absolution.

Optics scan all surrounding locality, though not without the caution- the slowness of alert systems.

Sensory data extrapolating a layout by the tick, plausible exits and entrances arranged upon CPU through visor, like clockwork.

"Looks reeeeal maintained. How?" Suspicion seeps by indifference. A tilt of the neck and she's facing upward, studying incremental detail and fine-polished metals which make up their overhang.

"..maybe worker's have been visiting?"

"Doubt it. This place is in the middle of nowhere. No worker's coming, let alone to clean of all things. It would of been scrubbed clean by now, not have so much stuff in it." Emphasis proceeds through a leg that strikes a steel box on it's side softly, sound reverberating; almost painful to hear compared to former silence.

Uzi is once again staring at coated metal and refined black, multitudes of questions laying dormant- yet where would I get the answers? Before the gaze travels downward.

A hint of apprehension when her optics register.

"Found a way forward, guys."

"Finally." "Oh! Good work, Uzi."

Footfall makes it's way down silver-lined halls- barring a level of resistance in the structure despite it's years, considered admirable.

For a wall, that is.

"This place looks advanced. We sure none of us didn't stumble into a secret science project?"

"Wouldn't put it past humans.."

"Come on now, it can't be that bad, right?"

"Oh, to live in your mind.."

"Hey! he's just being optimistic."

"Optimistic 'til shutdown, right?"

"Ugh, do you ever shut up?" Anger coils around digits, constricting openness to fists.

"Only if I have to."

"Urgh!- whatever! We need to go, so shut it and follow me. Can you do that?"

"Y-" [Sigh.] "Fine."

Silence permeates space, forceful tension infiltrating effector processors- No doubt due to her.

..

The sound of boots hitting steel is what Uzi decides to focus on.

The way sound waves impact then register, the way fabric twists and adjusts with each micro-movement, the way she doesn't have to pay attention to her almost-tangible thoughts.

It helps, it really helps. Though, she wouldn't usually just say that.

What's gotten into me?

Though- as much as she'd like to focus on that thought, the wall something-meters ahead is giving 50 different warnings that she really can't be bothered to read right now.

All because I hit a tree last time? Seriously?

So, purple regrettably turns left.

Ugh.

--

PART 2 - FINISHED

AFTER NOTES:

next chapter is gonna be the main meat of interaction (because they’re gonna meet mg)

accidentally posted this but i kinda wrote myself into a corner at the end so it’s fine and i can continue like nothing happened next part

[avikasharma]

Master’s in Biotechnology in Jaipur: Colleges, Careers & Campus Life

Introduction

So, you're thinking about diving into the world of Biotechnology? Great choice! This ever-evolving field merges biology with technology, and it’s shaping the future — from medicine and agriculture to energy and environment.

But here’s the catch: where you study can make or break your career path. And if Jaipur is on your radar, you're in luck. Known for its rich culture, Jaipur is also fast becoming a biotech education hotspot.

Let’s break down everything you need to know about pursuing a Master’s in Biotechnology in Jaipur.

What is a Master’s in Biotechnology?

Course Overview

A Master’s in Biotechnology is a two-year postgraduate course that blends theoretical knowledge with practical lab skills. It dives deep into molecular biology, genetic engineering, microbiology, bioinformatics, and more.

Duration and Structure

Duration: 2 years (4 semesters)

Structure: Coursework + Practical Labs + Dissertation

You’ll spend a good chunk of time in research labs, working on real-world biotech challenges.

Core Subjects Covered

Molecular Genetics

Genetic Engineering

Immunology

Biostatistics

Bioinformatics

Plant and Animal Biotechnology

Environmental Biotechnology

Research Methodology

Top Colleges Offering Master in Biotechnology in Jaipur

If you’re looking for quality education and industry exposure, these colleges in Jaipur are leading the charge:

1. University of Rajasthan

One of the oldest and most reputed universities.

Offers strong research support and experienced faculty.

2. Stani Memorial P.G. College, Jaipur

A top choice among students for Biotechnology.

Offers well-equipped labs, experienced faculty, and an active research culture.

The college is affiliated with the University of Rajasthan and has earned a solid reputation in life sciences education, making it a strong contender for anyone pursuing a Master course in Biotechnology Jaipur.

3. Manipal University Jaipur

Known for modern infrastructure and research-driven curriculum.

Great campus facilities and strong industry tie-ups.

4. Amity University Jaipur

Offers industry-focused biotech education.

Collaborations with global biotech firms.

5. JECRC University

Strong emphasis on innovation and practical exposure.

Hosts biotech conferences and industrial training.

6. IIS (Deemed to be University)

Focuses on women empowerment in STEM fields.

Offers a solid mix of theory and lab-based learning.

7. Apex University Jaipur

Affordable tuition and flexible learning.

Offers interdisciplinary options like bioinformatics integration.

Admission Process

Eligibility Criteria

Bachelor’s degree in Biotechnology, Life Sciences, Biology, or related fields.

Minimum 50–60% marks (varies by institution).

Entrance Exams

Some colleges have their own entrance exams.

Others accept national-level scores like CUET-PG or university-specific tests.

Application Deadlines

Most colleges open applications between March and July. Keep checking individual college websites for updated schedules.

Career Opportunities After M.Sc. Biotechnology

Research and Development

You could work with top research bodies like CSIR, ICMR, or in private-sector R&D labs. It's a fantastic field if you're curious and love lab work.

Pharmaceutical and Biotech Companies

Big names like Biocon, Serum Institute, and Panacea Biotec are always looking for skilled biotech graduates.

Teaching and Academia

If you enjoy sharing knowledge, teaching could be your path. M.Sc. graduates are eligible for college-level teaching jobs or further studies like Ph.D.

Government and Private Sector Jobs

Work in public health, agriculture, forensic science labs, and environmental departments. There are also opportunities in regulatory agencies and NGOs.

Skill Set You Will Develop

Lab Techniques

You’ll master advanced lab techniques like PCR, gel electrophoresis, ELISA, chromatography, and spectrophotometry — essential tools in any biotech lab.

Data Analysis & Bioinformatics

Bioinformatics is a must-have skill today. Learn how to analyze genetic sequences, use molecular databases, and even do a bit of coding with Python or R.

Communication and Research Skills

Scientific writing, project reporting, presentations, and critical analysis — these soft skills are as important as your lab skills.

Internship & Industrial Training in Jaipur

Partner Companies and Labs

Many institutions in Jaipur have tie-ups with:

Rajasthan University of Health Sciences

ICAR Institutes

Local pharma and biotech startups

Importance of Industry Exposure

Internships let you apply what you've learned in class to real-world problems. They boost your resume and improve your job prospects significantly.

Life in Jaipur as a Postgraduate Student

Cost of Living

Jaipur is more affordable than most metro cities. You can live comfortably on ₹8,000–₹12,000 a month, covering rent, food, and transport.

Student-Friendly Areas

Raja Park – Central and full of cafes

Jagatpura – University zone

Vaishali Nagar & Mansarovar – Affordable housing and markets

Campus Culture and Events

Colleges in Jaipur host regular seminars, workshops, biotech fests, and hackathons. It’s not just academics — you’ll grow socially and intellectually.

Alumni Success Stories

Real Career Paths

Graduates from Jaipur colleges have:

Joined biotech giants like Dr. Reddy’s and Zydus Cadila

Pursued PhDs in Germany, USA, and Australia

Launched their own biotech startups

International Opportunities

If you're ambitious, your M.Sc. degree can open doors to international scholarships, research fellowships, and PhD programs abroad.

Challenges Students Might Face

Academic Pressure

It’s a demanding course — expect tight deadlines, tough practicals, and long lab hours. But if you love science, it’s all worth it.

Research Funding and Infrastructure

While private universities have better facilities, some public ones might have funding limitations. Look for colleges with active research grants.

Jaipur vs Other Cities for Biotech Studies

Academic Environment

Unlike crowded metros, Jaipur offers a peaceful, distraction-free environment perfect for studies and research.

Industry Tie-Ups and Placement Rate

While metros have more companies, Jaipur is catching up with its startup ecosystem and biotech incubators.

Tips to Choose the Right College

Accreditation and Faculty

Always go for colleges that are NAAC-accredited with a strong team of PhD faculty.

Lab Facilities and Placement Records

Visit the campus if possible. Talk to current students. Check placement records and LinkedIn profiles of alumni.

Future of Biotechnology in India

Emerging Trends

CRISPR Gene Editing

Personalized Medicine

Agricultural Biotechnology

Industrial Enzymes & Bioplastics

Government Initiatives

With support from BIRAC, DST, and DBT, India is pouring investments into biotech research and startups. The future is biotech!

Conclusion

Choosing to pursue a Master's in Biotechnology in Jaipur could be one of the smartest moves you’ll make for your career. The city’s blend of quality education, affordability, and growing biotech ecosystem creates a fertile ground for aspiring biotechnologists.

Whether you're dreaming of a career in R&D, planning to launch a startup, or aiming for a PhD abroad — Jaipur’s top colleges can get you there.

So go ahead, make the leap — your future in biotech starts here.

FAQs

1. Which is the best university in Jaipur for M.Sc. Biotechnology?

University of Rajasthan and Manipal University Jaipur are top picks, but Stani Memorial P.G. College is also gaining popularity for its dedicated faculty and research approach.

2. Is Stani Memorial P.G. College good for Biotechnology?

Yes! It offers quality lab facilities, a strong academic environment, and affiliation with the University of Rajasthan.

3. What jobs can I get after a Master's in Biotechnology?

You can work in R&D labs, pharma companies, government agencies, and even move into teaching or further research.

4. Do Jaipur colleges offer internship support?

Most reputable colleges have partnerships with research labs, health universities, and local industries that offer internships and training.

5. Is Jaipur a good place for postgraduate students?

Absolutely. It’s affordable, student-friendly, culturally vibrant, and growing rapidly as an education hub.

[prathameshparkar]

How Indian Sanctuaries Are Fighting Habitat Fragmentation

India’s wildlife sanctuaries are more than safe zones—they are living ecosystems that support rare species, indigenous flora, and critical ecological functions. Yet, one of the gravest threats to their success is habitat fragmentation—the breaking up of continuous wilderness into isolated patches due to highways, urban development, mining, and agriculture.

For species that migrate, mate, or hunt across vast landscapes, fragmentation is a silent killer, leading to inbreeding, food scarcity, and rising human-wildlife conflict. Fortunately, a new wave of innovation, led by advanced facilities like Vantara—an ambitious wildlife rehabilitation initiative by Vantara Anant Ambani—is pushing back against this trend.

In this blog, we explore how Indian sanctuaries are actively addressing habitat fragmentation, using science, policy, partnerships, and public awareness.

🧱 What Is Habitat Fragmentation?

Habitat fragmentation occurs when natural landscapes are divided into smaller, disconnected patches by human infrastructure such as:

Roads and railways

Dams and mining sites

Urban sprawl and agricultural expansion

Fencing or industrial zones

This disrupts wildlife movement, feeding patterns, and mating cycles, causing declines in species populations and ecosystem health.

⚠️ Why Fragmentation Is Dangerous for Wildlife

Impact Consequence Limited movement Reduced mating diversity, genetic isolation Shrinking territory Heightened conflict and competition Human-wildlife encounters Crop raids, livestock killing, roadkills Resource imbalance Scarcity of water, food, or nesting spaces Higher extinction risk Particularly for apex predators and migratory species

Endangered species like the Indian elephant, Bengal tiger, and great Indian bustard are especially vulnerable to these disruptions.

🐾 How Sanctuaries Like Vantara Are Tackling the Problem

1. Rescue and Rehabilitation for Fragmentation Victims

Wildlife injured or displaced due to fragmented habitats—often found dehydrated, malnourished, or injured in vehicle collisions—are brought to sanctuaries like Vantara for:

Immediate trauma care and long-term rehabilitation

Stress-relief and behavioral therapy

Gradual reintegration into protected landscapes or corridors

Vantara Anant Ambani’s vision ensures that rescue is not the end goal—but the beginning of reconnection.

2. Building Artificial Habitat Bridges Within Sanctuaries

At Vantara and other modern sanctuaries, there is increasing use of:

Habitat simulation zones (mini forests, water holes, grasslands)

Elevated walkways and tunnels that mimic natural movement paths

Wildlife enrichment programs to prepare animals for safe rewilding

This creates a functional mini-ecosystem that allows natural behaviors while animals recover and await possible release.

3. Supporting Wildlife Corridor Restoration

Fragmented landscapes can be reconnected through wildlife corridors—natural or assisted paths between protected areas. Sanctuaries like Vantara:

Collaborate with forest departments on release sites near existing corridors

Provide GPS data from rehabilitated animals to map movement patterns

Share insights on species-specific needs (like canopy cover for leopards or open fields for bustards)

This makes sanctuaries not isolated islands, but active players in landscape-level conservation.

4. Community Education and Anti-Encroachment Campaigns

Sanctuaries often run awareness programs in neighboring villages to:

Prevent land use changes near wildlife movement zones

Encourage coexistence models, like solar fencing or crop insurance

Discourage harmful fencing or illegal grazing in buffer zones

Vantara’s outreach teams are working with local communities to protect natural edges and prevent corridor blockage.

5. Research and Policy Advocacy

Vantara and similar institutions also:

Conduct habitat suitability studies to aid future sanctuary and corridor planning

Publish reports to influence state-level habitat zoning laws

Promote low-impact infrastructure (like eco-bridges) in wildlife-sensitive zones

Their data and field research are used by government agencies and NGOs to strengthen national policy on habitat connectivity.

🧬 Case Study: Fragmentation Recovery at Vantara

Species: Indian Pangolin

Issue: Rescued from traffickers in a fragmented landscape with no release corridor nearby

Solution: Kept in a bio-enclosed habitat with insect-rich soil beds, monitored for foraging and stress

Next Step: Released into a protected reserve linked to a verified pangolin movement corridor

This kind of targeted, informed intervention increases survival success in rewilded animals.

🔧 Infrastructure That Helps (or Hurts)

Type of Infrastructure Role in Fragmentation Highways without underpasses Major barrier—cause roadkill and dislocation Power lines Hazardous to birds like sarus cranes, storks Railroads Cut across migratory paths of elephants Eco-bridges and underpasses Vital tools to restore safe connectivity

Sanctuaries support smart planning by providing wildlife movement data and safe zone maps to engineers and developers.

💬 Words from Vantara

“We don’t just treat animals—we trace their stories. And too often, those stories begin with a broken path or a blocked forest.” — Senior Ecologist, Vantara

“Vantara Anant Ambani’s approach is clear: healing must be holistic. That means reuniting animals with landscapes, not isolating them in cages.” — Head of Wildlife Rehabilitation, Vantara

🌍 A National Effort, Not a Local Fight

Several Indian states are now prioritizing fragmentation fixes, supported by sanctuaries and research partners:

Uttarakhand: Elephant underpasses near Rajaji-Corbett corridor

Assam: Wildlife-friendly bridges in Kaziranga floodplains

Maharashtra & MP: Corridor protection between Pench and Kanha

Gujarat: Lion corridors near Gir and blackbuck zones in Velavadar

Sanctuaries like Vantara serve as staging grounds for future corridor integration, ensuring animals leave with the tools and health to survive—and thrive—in the wild.

🔚 Final Thoughts: Reconnecting the Wild

Habitat fragmentation is not just a wildlife issue—it’s a national ecological emergency. But sanctuaries like Vantara, under the thoughtful guidance of Vantara Anant Ambani, are proving that science, compassion, and landscape planning can bridge the gap.

Whether by rehabilitating victims of fragmentation, supporting corridor development, or changing mindsets through education, Indian sanctuaries are quietly knitting nature back together—one animal, one forest, one connection at a time.