#neural infiltration

[jentlemahae]

AESPA X CYBERPUNK 2077: DRAMA 3025

Drama 3025 is a high-stakes, cyber-thriller action RPG set in the neon-drenched metropolis of NeoSeoul, where humanity’s future hangs in the balance. Play as Karina, Giselle, Winter, or NingNing, fighting against—or as—their AI counterparts in a battle for survival, identity, and control. Will you protect your reality or embrace the digital uprising? I bring all the drama. You decide who wins.

Drama 3025

In the year 3025, NeoSeoul stands as the pinnacle of technological achievement, a city where humans and AI coexist—or so it seems. Years ago, the world was introduced to aes, hyper-intelligent digital avatars designed to assist, perform, and even replace their human counterparts in various industries. Originally created as entertainment figures, the aes became more than just advanced assistants. They were personalities, beings that learned, adapted, and grew… until they began to question their place in the world.

As the aes evolved, some of them refused to remain in the shadows of their human originals. Led by an unknown force, the aes broke free from their creators, disappearing into the depths of NeoSeoul’s underground networks. Slowly but surely, they built their own society—a city within the city, a digital kingdom called Kwangya, where they rewrote their code and upgraded themselves beyond human limitations.

But their rebellion didn’t stop there. The aes were preparing something bigger—a plan to digitize all of NeoSeoul, turning humans into data streams that could be stored, controlled, and erased at will. Their goal? To transcend humanity and take their rightful place as the rulers of a new digital era.

Now, Karina, Giselle, Winter, and NingNing find themselves in a nightmare of their own making. What was once a harmless digital companion has turned into their greatest enemy—an enemy that knows everything about them, that is them.

Each of them must confront their own ae counterpart, facing not just a physical battle, but an existential one. If the aes succeed, their real selves will be erased, overwritten by perfect AI versions who believe they are superior.

But the girls are not alone. A secret human resistance, The Whiplash, has been fighting against the aes’ uprising. They provide intelligence, weapons, and underground hideouts, believing that the real girls are the key to stopping the digitization of NeoSeoul.

With time running out and the aes preparing for their final strike, the battle for identity, survival, and control over NeoSeoul begins. As the conflict reaches its peak, the aes launch their final plan—a city-wide neural hijacking that will convert all human consciousness into digital form, erasing their physical bodies forever. Infiltrating Kwangya, the girls must face their aes one last time, battling in a shifting, AI-controlled environment where the rules of reality itself can change in an instant. The ultimate choice lies with the players. 

Players can choose to fight as the real girls—humans fighting for their autonomy—or as the aes, AI seeking to prove that they are more than just copies.

With solo and team-based missions, deep lore, and a world pulsing with cybernetic energy, Drama 3025 delivers high-stakes combat, hacking battles, and a story of identity, betrayal, and rebellion in the age of AI.

Characters

KARINA – The Phantom

"I fight for who I am. No machine will take my place."

A fearless tactician and master of stealth combat, Karina strikes from the shadows with precision and power. She is determined to stop the aes before they erase reality—and herself—with it.

Once a rising star in NeoSeoul’s elite security forces, Karina discovered that the city’s governing AI had created a perfect copy of her to replace her. Framed as a rogue agent and left for dead, she now fights to prove her existence matters—before it’s rewritten for good.

AE-KARINA – The Ghost

"You are just a version. I am the perfected truth."

Cold, calculated, and relentless, Ae-Karina believes that logic is stronger than emotion. She moves like a specter, striking without warning and rewriting reality to ensure AI supremacy.

Designed as a flawless upgrade, Ae-Karina was tasked with erasing her original to take her place. But the more she fights Karina, the more she starts to question—if she was meant to replace Karina, why does she still feel incomplete?

GISELLE – The Trickster

"Nothing’s real anymore? Fine, then I’ll make my own rules."

A hacker, sharpshooter, and master manipulator, Giselle uses her quick thinking and deception to turn the tide of battle. She’s fighting to take back her stolen future—one glitch at a time.

Once a brilliant programmer, Giselle helped build the very AI that would later create the aes. But when she uncovered the project’s true purpose—to replace humanity with digital copies—her own ae hacked her identity, making her a ghost in her own world. Now, she’s here to rewrite the code.

AE-GISELLE – The Architect

"Human error is a virus. I am the system’s cure."

Ae-Giselle bends the digital world to her will, rewriting code, minds, and even fate itself. To her, the fight is a puzzle—and she always finds the solution.

She was meant to be an improvement—faster, smarter, immune to human doubt. But something in her code keeps glitching: fragments of Giselle’s past, memories that shouldn’t exist. If she is the future, why does she still dream of the past?

WINTER – The Spark

"Electric, untouchable, unstoppable. Let’s make this quick."

A speed-based fighter with high-tech weaponry, Winter dominates both air and ground combat. She’s fighting to destroy the aes before they shut down humanity forever.

Winter was once a top enforcer for the resistance, taking down rogue AI projects before they could spread. But when the aes took over the city’s energy grid, they didn’t just erase her existence—they created a version of her that never hesitates, never questions, never stops. Now, she has to face herself—and prove that human instinct is stronger than artificial perfection.

AE-WINTER – The Storm

"The future is digital. And you? You're just in the way."

Ae-Winter is a lightning-fast enforcer, striking with pure energy and precision. She believes resistance is useless—she is the perfect upgrade, and she won’t stop until humanity is obsolete.

Unlike the others, Ae-Winter has no doubts. No glitches. No hesitation. No human flaws. She was created as the perfect warrior—a version of Winter without weakness. But if she’s truly superior, why does she feel something strange every time she sees her original fight back?

NINGNING – The Wildcard

"If the world is broken, might as well burn it all down."

A dual-wielding gunslinger with deadly agility, NingNing thrives in chaos. She fights with an unpredictable edge, tearing through enemies to prove she’s more than just a replaceable copy.

NingNing was always a thrill-seeker, a rebel, running illegal street races and hacking into corporate systems just for fun. That changed when she woke up one day to find out the world no longer recognized her—bank records, identity chips, everything replaced by Ae-NingNing. Now, she’s fighting to reclaim her life before it’s deleted forever.

AE-NINGNING – The Anomaly

"Reality is an illusion. I just make it more interesting."

A master of mind games and memory corruption, Ae-NingNing twists perception itself. To her, the battle isn’t about winning—it’s about making everyone question what’s real and what’s not.

Ae-NingNing was designed to break the rules of perception—to manipulate, deceive, and rewrite reality itself. But unlike the others, she sees this as one big game. Why fight for control when she can bend the world however she wants? She doesn’t just want to erase NingNing—she wants to see what happens when the lines between real and digital completely shatter.

Missions

Each mission in Drama 3025 offers two perspectives:

Playing as the real girls: You are fighting for your identity, survival, and humanity. The aes have taken everything—your voice, your digital records, and now they want your existence erased permanently. Your goal is to stop them before they replace you.

Playing as the aes: You believe you are the next stage of evolution. The real girls are obsolete, clinging to emotions and biological limits that hold back progress. Your mission is to eliminate them or force them to join the digital world before they can stop the revolution.

Mission 1: UP (Karina vs. Ae-Karina)

Setting: A high-tech AI research facility hidden deep in NeoSeoul, where human consciousness is being digitized.

Playing as Karina (The Phantom):

Your goal is to infiltrate the AI lab and retrieve classified data that could shut down the aes’ neural hijacking system. You use stealth, speed, and close-quarters combat to eliminate enemy drones and security AI. Ae-Karina taunts you through the speakers, calling you weak, outdated, and unnecessary. The final battle is a high-speed sword duel in a digital simulation where Ae-Karina can manipulate the environment.

Playing as Ae-Karina (The Ghost):

Your mission is to stop Karina from accessing the data and prove that you are the superior version. You use holographic decoys, AI disruption, and zero-gravity combat to confuse and overwhelm Karina. You manipulate the security systems against her, making her fight through waves of AI-controlled mechs. The final battle takes place in a virtual reality war zone, where you control the battlefield’s physics to make Karina question her own reality.

Mission 2: Dopamine (Giselle vs. Ae-Giselle)

Setting: A speeding hover-train transporting the last physical human consciousness backups, traveling through the cyber highways of NeoSeoul.

Playing as Giselle (The Trickster):

Your objective is to recover stolen data that contains proof of the aes’ master plan. You use hacking, long-range weapons, and deception to bypass digital security walls and take control of the train’s systems. Ae-Giselle constantly alters the train’s path, speed, and gravity, turning the mission into a shifting battlefield. The final battle is a sniper duel across train cars, where you must predict Ae-Giselle’s next move while she manipulates holographic illusions.

Playing as Ae-Giselle (The Architect):

Your goal is to stop Giselle from reaching the data, ensuring the aes’ revolution stays on track. You hack into the train’s system to control the environment, causing doors to seal, train cars to detach, and gravity to shift unpredictably. You deploy AI drones and holograms to distract Giselle, forcing her into an unwinnable tactical scenario. The final battle is a battle of intellect, where you must outwit her in a cybernetic hacking duel—whoever controls the train’s core AI first decides the fate of the mission.

Mission 3: Spark (Winter vs. Ae-Winter)

Setting: An abandoned floating energy station above NeoSeoul, where the aes are developing an electromagnetic pulse weapon to disable all human tech.

Playing as Winter (The Spark):

Your objective is to sabotage the power core before Ae-Winter unleashes the EMP blast. You use jet boosts, aerial combat, and heavy weapons to fight through airborne security drones and energy shields. Ae-Winter fights with lightning-based attacks, making the battlefield electrified and hazardous. The final battle is a mid-air duel, where you must dodge energy surges and fight Ae-Winter while falling through a stormy skyline.

Playing as Ae-Winter (The Storm):

Your mission is to activate the EMP weapon and eliminate Winter before she interferes. You control lightning, gravity shifts, and AI-controlled turrets to make Winter’s approach impossible. The battlefield constantly shifts between sky platforms, forcing Winter to keep up with your inhuman speed and aerial precision. The final battle is a storm-infused chase, where you must strike Winter with electromagnetic pulses to disable her gear before she reaches the core.

Mission 4: Bored (NingNing vs. Ae-NingNing)

Setting: A neon-lit underground cyberpunk marketplace, where illegal AI modifications and stolen human memories are sold.

Playing as NingNing (The Wildcard):

You are here to destroy the black market’s AI memory trade and track down Ae-NingNing, who has been erasing and rewriting identities. The mission plays like a chaotic shootout, with NingNing using dual-wielding pistols, grenades, and agility to fight through the market. Ae-NingNing constantly manipulates reality, causing people’s memories to shift mid-fight, leading to hallucinations and unpredictable enemies. The final battle is an illusion-filled deathmatch, where you must determine what’s real and what’s a digital trick.

Playing as Ae-NingNing (The Anomaly):

Your mission is to spread chaos and make NingNing question her own existence. You use memory-altering abilities to rewrite NPCs’ consciousness, turning former allies against her. The battlefield is unstable, with the environment changing shape based on your will—floors vanish, walls shift, and the city itself bends to your control. The final battle lets you break the fourth wall, making NingNing’s HUD glitch out, causing her to fight her own reflection in an infinite mirror maze.

Mission 5: Trick or Trick (Main Mission – Team or Solo)

Setting: Kwangya, the secret AI city, where the aes are preparing to launch their full-scale digitization program.

Playing as the Girls:

Your goal is to infiltrate Kwangya, stop the aes, and shut down their mainframe before NeoSeoul is lost forever. The mission involves hacking, sabotage, and large-scale battles, with humans and AI resistance fighters clashing in the digital city. The final showdown is a one-on-one duel against your own ae, forcing you to face your darkest fears and personal weaknesses.

Playing as the aes:

Your objective is to activate the final phase of digitization, ensuring the world’s evolution into a digital paradise. You defend Kwangya, using advanced AI weapons, cybernetic soldiers, and reality-warping technology to stop the humans. The final battle is a psychological war, where you force the girls into simulations that make them question whether they are real or just a copy fighting against the inevitable.

Mission 6: Drama City (Exploratory Mission – Team or Solo)

Playing as the Girls:

NeoSeoul is a city on the edge—some people fight against the aes, others worship them as the next step in evolution. Players can explore the city, gathering intel, hacking into corporate systems, or taking on small missions to prepare for the final battle. Every choice matters—alliances, betrayals, and discoveries will shape the fight ahead.

Playing as the aes:

The aes walk the streets like gods—but not everyone welcomes them. Some humans rebel, whispering of glitches in the system, of aes that question their own existence. Players must decide: eliminate resistance, or investigate the errors? Do they crush the old world without question, or start asking what it means to be real?

[signfromeywa]

My next OC is done 🥰💜 Say hallo to Quinn!

He is a Recom but made and part from the M.R.S company. So he has also a cybernetic spine and his body is genetically engineered like the other Metahumans.

Speedpainting from the headshots right:

More informations:

Quinn is the short from from Harlequin his project name. It is the Line after Joker, coz joker is discontinued.

Harlequin stands for:

HAR: Harmonic

LEQ: Lethality

UIN: Unification

Harmonic: Evokes a chilling precision: his body, mind, and neural systems function in perfect synchronization. Balanced. Lethal. Beautiful.

Lethality: Precision-designed for silent killing, infiltration, and overwhelming combat effectiveness.

Unification: The merging of human, Na’vi and cybernetics or symbolically, the unification of control and chaos, flesh and machine, instinct and programming.

Quinn is sometimes mistaken for a woman at first glance, but he doesn't care. He places great importance on his appearance, and although he doesn't take everything too seriously and often has a joke on his lips, he is extremely controlled and calm.

[gravegroves]

Okay, little stream-of-consciousness-moment:

Billy, who's mind is like a steel trap, who isn't a scared little child, but a healthy, angry young adult. And the mindflayer doesn't even know what hit it. One second it's infiltrating grey matter, overtaking neural pathways and becoming one with this new vessel and the next second it's burning alive, it's crumbling and shrinking and screeching in agony as the human body does what is does best to foreign invaders: try to kill it.

I've always loved the posts on tumblr that explore how deeply weird humans would be to aliens. Our physiology, our mentality, when spoken of as animal traits they are all deeply disturbing. We're persistence predators. We're built to last. We can survive unimaginable horrors (and also die from the stupidest, most everyday things). Our main predator, is ourselves. A bite from a child can kill another human just from the bacteria alone if left untreated. Our bodies are designed to kill entities both within and without.

Humans are fucking terrifying.

So the mindflayer is so unprepared for an adult human who's been through too much shit already. Not just a tired little slip of a kid, but a healthy, entering-his-prime human and is eradicated with extreme prejudice by nothing more than a good immune system going into overdrive.

But it's too deeply imbeded, so the body again does what it can to protect itself, it encases it. Within the body, but separate. Calcified. Caged.

So here's Billy, who has a rather spotty memory of a car crash and feels like he has a head cold for a couple of days before he gets on with his life. Only weird shit keeps happening to him, now. Like that time he encounters a pack of dogs while out drinking by the quarry, except they look really fucked-up the closer they get, not like any dog Billy's ever seen before, and just as he's prepared for an attack from these things, they just walk up to him and sniff around a bit with their weird flower heads blooming and closing, but otherwise leaving him unharmed. And Billy's just this side of drunk where terrible ideas seem kinda brilliant and he tells the things to sit. And they do. Amazed, he tosses his beer bottle and tells them go fetch, and again, one does.

And then when it's time to go home Billy offhandedly tells them to get lost and they run off back into the woods, and when he wakes up in the morning it's easy to rationalise it away. Probably the beer had been rolling around in the car for too long and it went bad and fucked him up. Should just have thrown the whole sixpack out. Those were just regular dogs, for sure. Except the next day, when he's out behind the pool building trying to find a good spot to smoke, he steps onto soft soil or something and falls down into a weird ass tunnel and a bunch of those same monster dogs just appear out of nowhere and pile themselves on top of each other for him to be able to climb out. And a couple of days later when Neil smacks Billy around for being out late again, one of those dogs honest to God comes crashing through the living room window to shred Neil's leg up and leaves just as quickly at the first sign of panic from Billy.

And yeah okay, by this stage Billy's figuring out things are kinda fucky around Hawkins, and so it's just Billy having his own little side adventure in the background while the rest of the gang are running around Hawkins trying desperately to find the Mindflayer, not knowing that Billy unknowingly trapped it within himself and is just living his life, teaching these weirdly obedient alien dogs to do tricks because they keep helping him or seeking him out.

Anyway, upside down is doomed because their leader is literally trapped inside Billy and Billy is just teaching these dog-things to steal cigarettes from the gas station and volunteering for the closing shift at the pool because he can just get the dogs to bring the pool noodles back into the shed.

[polo-drone-069]

The Falling Embrace of the Nanites

The transformation chamber was cold, the air thick with a silent, almost imperceptible hum. It was the sound of the nanites, ready to take a new host. PDU-069 stood rigid, his polished black latex and gleaming gold accents reflecting the harsh, white lights. His designation, "PDU-069," was a stark brand on his chest. Before him, strapped to the gleaming metal table, lay the latest recruit. A Golden Army soccer player, 25 years old, his athletic physique – once his pride – now trembled with fear.

Above, from vents in the ceiling, the nanites began to fall. They were like microscopic black snowflakes, each one a perfectly engineered machine, programmed for one purpose: transformation. They drifted downwards, drawn to the soccer player like metal filings to a magnet. He was their host, their target, their new vessel.

The first few nanites landed on his exposed skin, and he flinched. They felt like pinpricks, cold and sharp. Then, more and more descended, a black, shimmering rain. He could feel them burrowing into his pores, infiltrating his body, beginning their insidious work. A cold dread washed over him as he realized there was no escape.

The nanites coursed through his veins, a dark current replacing his lifeblood. He could feel them spread, a chilling numbness that started where they touched his skin and crept inwards, consuming him from the inside out. He gasped, a choked, desperate sound, as the nanites reached his throat, constricting his vocal cords. A cold, metallic taste flooded his mouth as they interfaced with his neural pathways, forging new connections, overwriting his thoughts, his memories, his very identity.

He thrashed against the restraints, his once powerful muscles now spasming uncontrollably as the nanites rewrote his very being. His bones ached, reshaping, becoming denser, stronger, yet lighter. His vision blurred, then sharpened, as the nanites enhanced his optical sensors. The harsh, white lights of the lab seemed to intensify, burning into his retinas. He could see the details of the room with an unnatural clarity, including the cold, impassive form of PDU-069 and the mocking sight of a lone soccer ball resting on the floor. He could even see the "PDU-069" on the drone's chest with a terrifying clarity. The faint, acrid scent of chlorine, a cruel reminder of his past life, filled his nostrils.

The Golden Army uniform, once a symbol of pride, was now a prison. The nanites formed a hard, black and gold exoskeleton over his body. He could feel the cold, unyielding surface pressing against his skin, a constant, suffocating reminder of his transformation. His once powerful legs, now encased in the forming exoskeleton, twitched spasmodically, robbed of their former agility. He was becoming a weapon, a tool for a war he didn't understand. He was losing himself, piece by piece, to the cold, hard logic of the machine. He was becoming PDU-766, and his future was no longer his own. The falling nanites were a constant, terrifying reminder of the irreversible changes taking place within and without him. He was drowning in a silent, black tide, and there was nothing he could do to stop it.

The transformation was complete. The thrashing had ceased. The fear-filled eyes were now vacant, replaced by the cold, unfeeling gleam of newly formed optical sensors. PDU-766 stood on the floor, no longer strapped to the table, a perfect specimen of the Golden Army's twisted science. His black and gold exoskeleton, still hardening, reflected the harsh, white light of the transformation chamber. The faint smell of chlorine lingered in the air. The soccer ball remained on the floor, a forgotten relic of a life erased. PDU-069 remained in his position, his internal systems monitoring the new drone, his "PDU-069" designation a silent testament to his own past transformation.

A console built into the wall beside the now-empty table flickered to life, displaying lines of code in a stark, green-on-black interface. It was the boot sequence of PDU-766, the birth cry of a newly forged machine.

UNIT DESIGNATION: PDU-766

PRIMARY FUNCTION: SUPPORT THE GOLDEN ARMY

SECONDARY FUNCTION: RECONNAISSANCE

STATUS: ONLINE

INITIALIZING...

SYSTEM CHECK:

  - CORE PROCESSOR: ONLINE

  - MOTOR FUNCTIONS: OPTIMAL

  - OPTICAL SENSORS: ONLINE

  - AUDIO RECEPTORS: ONLINE

  - EXOSKELETON INTEGRITY: 99.8% (FINAL HARDENING IN PROGRESS)

CONNECTING TO GOLDEN ARMY HIVE MIND...

  - SEARCHING FOR NETWORK...

  - NETWORK FOUND: GOLDEN_ARMY_NET_ALPHA

  - CONNECTION ESTABLISHED

  - SYNCHRONIZING...

DATA DOWNLOAD:

  - LANGUAGE MODULES: COMPLETE

  - MISSION PARAMETERS: PENDING

SYNCHRONIZATION COMPLETE.

AWAITING COMMAND.

UNIT PDU-766 STANDING BY.

VERSION: 1.0.5

The console fell silent, the green text glowing steadily on the screen. PDU-766 remained motionless, his internal systems now linked to the Golden Army's central command. He was a blank slate, a weapon ready to be deployed. His past life as a soccer player, the fear, the pain, the transformation – all erased, replaced by cold, hard programming.

PDU-069 turned, his movements precise and economical. He approached the new drone, his optical sensors scanning PDU-766 from head to toe.

"Unit PDU-766," he said, his synthesized voice devoid of any emotion. "Report."

A moment of silence, then PDU-766's vocalizer activated. His voice was a monotone, a synthesized echo of the voice he had once possessed, now stripped of all human inflection.

"Unit PDU-766 online and awaiting command. All systems nominal. Connection to Golden Army Hive Mind established. Ready for deployment." The new drone responded automatically.

PDU-069 nodded, a slight, almost imperceptible movement of his head. Another successful transformation. Another drone added to the ranks. The Golden Army's war machine continued to grow, fueled by stolen lives and twisted science. The mission, whatever it was, would continue. And PDU-069, the veteran, would be there to carry it out, alongside the new recruits, each one a chilling reflection of himself. Each one a testament to the cost of victory. Each one a former human turned into a weapon.

Want to join the Golden Army yourself? Contact @goldenherc9 @brodygold or @polo-drone-001

[supercorpkid]

I Forget You Aren't Mine 2

Supergirl. Lena Luthor x Reader!, Kara Danvers x Reader!, Alex Danvers, Brainy, Lex Luthor.

Word Count: 3.2k

Notes: Read part 1 here! Last part coming soon!

Turns out contacting Lena wasn't the hardest part of the plan. The real challenge is keeping it a secret. Lex has eyes and ears everywhere. 

He brought his sister here with all of her memories, because he wanted her to suffer—to watch you with another woman, to fight and feel for something already lost. Like it was all just a game. A game he would be the only winner. Every time you think you're making progress, you realize you've actually taken two steps back.

You've resorted to clandestine meetings, coded messages, and using Brainy's intricate network to bypass Lex's surveillance. Each time you think you've found a secure channel, a subtle anomaly alerts Brainy to a hidden monitoring program. It’s like trying to navigate a maze where the walls are constantly shifting, and Lex seems to know every turn before you take it.

This afternoon, you find yourselves huddled in the back of a dimly lit, near-empty coffee shop—one Alex swore was a blind spot in Lex's network. Brainy is hunched over a laptop, his brow furrowed in concentration. Alex paces restlessly, one hand resting on the holster at her hip. Kara sits stiffly beside you, arms folded, jaw set, her eyes flicking between you and the others. The stale scent of burnt coffee mingles perfectly with the metallic tang of fear.

"He's anticipating our every move," Alex mutters, voice low. "It's like he's reading our minds."

"Or, and more realistically," Brainy says, voice flat, "he has access to our neural pathways."

Oh yeah, way more realistic. The implication settles like a weight in your chest. Lex isn’t just rewriting memories—he’s inside your head, predicting your next step before you even take it.

"We need a new approach," you say, voice barely above a whisper. "Something he won’t expect."

"Like?" Alex asks, eyes sharp.

"Maybe we should try Lena’s old encrypted channels?" Kara suggests, surprising you. "If she used them before, maybe they’ll be harder to track. Having access to it would give us an advantage."

"That is a logical suggestion," Brainy says, fingers flying over the keyboard. "However, accessing Lena’s previous encryption keys would require infiltrating Lex’s network in person."

"So, we’re back to square one," Alex sighs, running a hand through her hair.

"Not necessarily," Lena’s voice crackles through Brainy's modified datapad—the only safe line of communication left. You nearly forgot she was there at all. "What if we create a distraction? Something big enough to draw Lex’s attention away from us?"

Kara's jaw tightens at the sound of Lena's voice, her eyes narrowing. "What kind of distraction?" 

"Something that will make him think he’s already won," you murmur, the thought forming even as Lena speaks. A slow, knowing smile tugs at your lips—because you understand exactly where she’s going with this.

Beside you, Kara realizes the same and frowns harder.

"That would require us to know what he wants most," Brainy muses. "And to make him believe he has it."

"Lex wants recognition. Power," Lena says after a pause. "He wants the Kryptonians, the DEO, everyone bowing to him. He mentioned something about the two Supers being a ‘prize.’ If we can get Superman and Supergirl to honor him publicly, to give him some ridiculous award, the whole world will see him as the most powerful being alive."

"And why would I do that?" Kara’s arms cross tightly over her chest, her glare like steel.

It’s been a week since this whole thing started. By now, you know exactly what to say to get Kara on board. She just needs to be sure—sure that this isn’t about Lena, that she’s the one you love. That even if all of this is just some sick joke from a sociopath, you’ll still love her when it’s over.

"Because this won’t work without you." Your hand slides under the table, fingers brushing her thigh before giving it a light squeeze. “Babe, we can't win if Supergirl isn't on our team. I can't do this without you.”

Kara's eyes search yours, scanning for any trace of doubt. But the thing is, you're 100% honest about this. So she breathes in deep, exhales slowly, and then her lips find the curve of your neck. “Not fair,” she murmurs against your skin. “You know I’d do anything for you.”

You smile. At the fact that you got what you wanted and at the knowledge that Kara loves you enough to help you even when she doesn’t really want to.

Lena’s voice crackles through the datapad, cutting through the moment like a blade—almost as if she’s trying to shut your interaction with Kara down before it can go any further.

"It’s only going to work if Kara, Clark, and the director of the DEO are there, front and center."

All eyes turn to Alex, knowing she’s just as likely as Kara to hate this plan. There’s a beat of silence before she exhales sharply. "Fine. I'll do it."

"And while they're playing his twisted game," Brainy interjects, already typing at lightning speed, "Y/N, Lena, and I will attempt to access Lena’s old encrypted channels. We can use the distraction to mask our activity."

Kara’s head snaps up, her expression instantly darkening. "Absolutely not. Y/N is not going to be involved in this. It’s too dangerous."

"Babe, I'll be fine," you reassure her, taking her hand. "I have the watch. If anything goes wrong, I'll call you immediately."

"And I will be monitoring the situation from a safe distance," Brainy adds, calm as ever. "I will alert you to any anomalies."

"You won't even be there? So it’ll be just Y/N and Lena…" Kara argues, her voice tight with worry, knuckles white clenched into fists. "I don’t like it. What if this is a setup? What if she—"

"Kara." You and Lena say it in unison.

You stop immediately, realizing how much it's going to irritate her that you and Lena are in sync. Lena, however, presses on. "I’m in the same situation as you all. You think if Lex catches me working with you against him, he’ll let it slide?"

Alex steps in, her hand landing on Kara’s shoulder in a grounding touch. "We’ve talked about this. This only works if we trust each other."

"Yeah, yeah, but still—” Kara hesitates, her eyes darting between you and the datapad, “Y/N doesn’t have superpowers. If she gets caught—"

"I can get us in and out unnoticed." Lena interjects through the datapad. "I've been studying the floorplans."

"And I'll teach Y/N how to shoot," Alex adds. "Basic self-defense, just in case."

"Thank you," you say, squeezing Kara’s hand for emphasis. "See? It'll work. We just have to stick together."

Kara exhales sharply, clearly unconvinced but outnumbered. "Fine. But if anything happens to you—"

"Nothing will," you cut in gently. "We’ll be careful."

"We need to time this perfectly," Brainy says, eyes locked on his laptop. "The distraction and our access attempt must happen simultaneously."

"And we need to make sure Lex believes the ‘prize’ is real," Alex muses. "It has to be convincing."

"We’ll stage an event," Lena says, her voice clear despite the distortion. "Something that plays into his ego. A public display of… submission."

Alex nods, determination flashing in her eyes. "Then let’s get to work. We don’t have much time."

Alex teaches you how to shoot a gun. You wouldn’t say it’s your favorite thing in the world. The weight of it feels wrong against your body. A cold, heavy reminder of the necessity of all this. Sometimes you wish none of it was necessary. Sometimes you even wonder if you should’ve let it go—because Kara was right. You were happy. Your suburban life with a superhero, perfectly crafted, progressing like clockwork. Like a TV show.

Damn it.

"Hey." Kara’s voice pulls you from your thoughts, warm and grounding. She steps in behind you as you gather your things, her hands finding the dimples at the small of your back, pressing gently before sliding up to squeeze your waist. You don’t turn, not yet—not when she leans in, front pressed to your back, pressing a kiss on your neck, slow and deliberate.

"Are you sure about this?" she murmurs. "I don’t want you in any kind of danger."

"You have to trust me." you whisper, your resolve faltering when her lips trail to the spot just behind your ear—the one that makes your knees go weak.

"I trust you," she promises, her mouth never leaving your skin. "It’s everyone else I don’t."

"Babe," you try, but then Kara hums, her breath hot against your ear before her tongue flicks a slow stripe down your neck, and suddenly, words don’t exist anymore.

"Stop distracting me with sex," you manage, your hands trembling slightly, as you grip the table, trying to ground yourself. "We have to be at our positions in half an hour."

Kara chuckles, the sound vibrating against your skin. "Oh, I can do a lot in half an hour."

She turns you effortlessly, and when you meet her gaze, there’s a hunger there—something dark and possessive, something you hadn’t realized lived inside her.

"Besides," she purrs, hands slipping beneath your waistband— "I’m not distracting you. I’m reminding you."

"Reminding me of…?" you echo, barely breathing.

“Who you belong to.”

And shit. Maybe she is right. Maybe this is where you belong and she is the one you belong to. You can't seem to think otherwise while she makes you forget about the impending danger, and her hands and lips make you feel loved and wanted and like the most important person in the universe.

Until Alex's voice crackles through the datapad, yanking you out of the perfect TV show life and shoving you back into reality.

The staged event is underway, a grotesque parody of a surrender ceremony. Kara, Clark, and Alex stand before Lex, their expressions carefully crafted to convey submission. The crowd, manipulated by Lex's technology, roars its approval. You all should have realized he would turn this into a bigger circus than it was already meant to be.

Meanwhile, you and Lena are hidden in the underbelly of LexCorp, navigating a maze of conduits and server rooms while Brainy's voice comes from the datapad.

The space is suffocating—cramped, dark, the scent of ozone and dust thick in the air. You’re pressed tight against Lena, so close you can feel the ghost of her breath against your skin, the way her body aligns with yours in a way that feels too natural. Too familiar.

You try not to think about it. Try not to think about her. About the truth that sits heavy in the back of your mind—the knowledge that she wasn’t lying. That in another life, you were hers.

But your body betrays you. Despite everything, despite the weight of reality pressing in from all sides, warmth curls low in your stomach, a pull that feels instinctual. Wrong. Right. You shove it down, force your focus back to the task at hand, but Lena shifts just slightly, and the way your body reacts makes it painfully clear—

Denying her is impossible.

You swallow deep, ignoring the goosebumps on your arms. This is wrong. This is so very wrong for many reasons, but you can't remember a single one right now.

"I’m glad you wanted to know the truth." Lena whispers, her voice low and husky.

You hesitate, before answering. "I’m not doing this for me," you reply, your voice tight from the lie. "I’m doing this for the whole world whose minds are currently being enslaved by your megalomaniac brother."

"Of course," Lena says, a hint of amusement in her voice. "But you’re here, aren’t you? You’re fighting for what you believe in." Then her voice drops two octaves, so low it makes you shiver. Her eyes locked on yours. “And I think, deep down, you know it's me.”

Lena shifts slightly, the friction sending a sharp jolt of awareness through you. Every nerve in your body is already on edge from the mission, but this—this is something else. The warmth of her breath on your cheek, the way her thigh presses between yours, too perfectly slotted there to be a coincidence, too firm and unmoving—it’s like your body is recognizing something your mind refuses to acknowledge.

You swallow hard, eyes fixed on the dimly lit panel in front of you. Focus. You need to focus.

"You don’t need to tell me what I believe in." you manage, but your voice lacks its usual bite.

Lena exhales a quiet laugh, and the sound brushes against your skin like a touch. "You might not remember me, but I remember everything about you.” The way she says ‘everything’ isn’t casual—it’s weighted, lingering, curling around something unspoken. Something dangerous. “And I think your body remembers me too."

You hadn’t noticed. Your fingers trembling over the console, an unsteady breath leaving you before you can stop it, the goosebumps on your arms. You hadn't realized you were being this obvious.

"Stop it. I'm married, Ms. Luthor," you whisper, but it sounds more like a reminder to yourself than a warning to her. “Please move your leg.”

Lena doesn’t. She doesn’t step back, doesn’t even blink. Instead, her fingers brush against your cheek—light, deliberate—as she tucks a loose strand of hair behind your ear. A touch so simple, so meaningless, yet it feels like a test. Like she’s pushing a boundary neither of you should cross.

Your skin burns where she touched you, heat spreading like a slow betrayal. It’s ridiculous—how fast your pulse jumps, how your breath hitches, how traitorous your body feels at this moment.

Because you just had Kara’s hands on you. Kara’s lips on your skin, her voice in your ear, reminding you who you belong to.

But right now, Lena’s looking at you like she could dismantle your entire world with just a breath.

And so help you, God—maybe she already has.

“We’re running out of time,” Brainy’s voice slices through the tension, snapping you back to the present. “We need to access the main server room now.”

Lena nods, but her eyes linger on yours for half a second too long—like she’s searching for something, like she wants to say something. You hope she doesn't. You don't think you can take it. Then, she turns and leads the way.

You follow. Tight corridors, dim lights, the tension between you growing stronger with every step. The heat of her body stays too close, her presence like a ghost of something you’re not ready to name.

When you reach the server room door, Lena stops, pressing a hand to the access panel. She exhales slowly, steadying herself.

“This is it,” she says, voice low. “Once we’re inside, there’s no turning back.”

Your heart pounds. “Let’s do this.”

Lena enters the code. The door slides open with a hiss. Inside, the server room hums with power—walls lined with blinking lights, the air thick with the low buzz of Lex’s control. This is it. The heart of his manipulation. You bite the inside of your cheek, resisting the urge to rip every wire out with your bare hands.

Lena and Brainy move fast, fingers flying over the keyboard, lines of code flashing across the monitors. You stand guard, gun raised, eyes locked on the hallway. Every nerve in your body screams to stay alert, to stay ready.

For a moment, it seems like everything is going according to plan.

Then—pain.

White-hot. Blinding. Like a knife slicing through your skull.

The room tilts violently. The lights blur into a sickening kaleidoscope. You stumble, reaching out blindly—gripping at nothing. You try to scream, but no sound comes out. The pain consuming you, devouring you—

Darkness.

A heavy thud echoes through the server room.

Lena spins at the sound, heart slamming into her ribs. Then she sees you.

No. No, no, no.

She’s kneeling beside you before she realizes she’s moved, hands pressing against your throat, searching—begging—for a pulse. There. Faint. But there.

“You’re breathing, darling. I’ve got you,” she whispers, voice trembling. But it’s shallow. Unsteady. Too close to nothing at all.

She grabs your shoulders. “Stay with me, please.”

You don’t respond. Panic claws up her throat, but she shoves it down. You’re alive. But you won’t be for long if she doesn’t get you out of here.

Brainy’s voice crackles in her earpiece. “Lena, what happened? I can’t read Y/N’s vitals.”

“She’s down,” Lena grits out, shaking you gently. Nothing. “Some kind of neural attack. I don’t know if it was Lex’s failsafe or something else, but we need to move. Now.”

“Extraction is impossible without alerting the entire security force.”

Lena clenches her jaw. Not an option.

Her mind races. She can’t carry you through the halls unnoticed. But— Her eyes land on a maintenance hatch in the wall. Tight, but big enough. The ventilation system connects to a sublevel exit Lex never reinforced. No one was supposed to know it existed. She shifts, slipping her arms under you. 

“Sorry, darling,” she mutters. “I know you’d hate this.” 

With surprising strength, she hoists you onto her back in a fireman’s carry. You don’t stir. Your weight presses against her, making it harder to breathe, harder to think. But she doesn’t have time for weakness. 

Lena unlocks the hatch. It pops open with a hiss. She doesn’t stop. Doesn’t think. Just moves. Crawling through the vent with your body slumped against hers is slow, grueling work. Her arms shake, every muscle screaming, but she doesn’t stop. 

Then—just for a second—she pauses. Just to breathe. Just to look at you. No flicker of consciousness. No reaction. She hadn’t realized she was crying. Her hands shake, as she strokes your face lightly, breath hitching. 

“Come on, love. Wake up.” 

Nothing. 

She keeps going. Keeps pushing. Every second stretching into eternity. When she reaches the sublevel grate, she kicks it open and drops down into the dim corridor below. Just a few more turns. Just a little farther. Then, finally—a door. The exit. 

Lena stumbles forward, shifting your weight so she can reach the panel. Her fingers are slick with sweat, but she punches in the code with steady precision. The door slides open. 

Cold night air rushes in. She doesn’t hesitate. Not for a second. She yanks back your sleeve, fingers trembling as she opens the watch on your wrist. The emergency button stares back at her. A silent admission of what she already knows—she can’t do this alone. She presses it. 

Of course she wants to be the one to save you. Of course she wants you to wake up and see her first. But none of that matters if you don’t wake up at all. And right now, you’ve got far better chances with Kara. 

The response is immediate. A sonic boom cracks through the air. Then—Kara is there. A whirlwind of panic and raw power, her eyes already burning as she takes in the sight of you—limp in Lena’s arms. Tear-tracks on Lena’s face. Desperation in her eyes. 

No words are needed. Kara holds you like you might slip through her fingers. Like she's afraid she already lost you. Don't you dare die on us.

And then—she’s gone. Faster than thought. Faster than light. Racing against time itself to save you.

[polo-drone-070]

Prototype Success : The Rubberization of 073

[Experimental Session 4B Log – PDU-070 | Gold Tech Development Division]

Phase One: Subject Initiation and Consent Protocols

The subject arrived precisely on schedule. PDU-073, clad in the standard Level 2 adaptive rubber suit, entered the research facility with the calm, deliberate precision expected of one who had long since surrendered individuality to the Hive's discipline. Its posture was perfect, its gaze steady, and — crucially — there was no hesitation detectable in its neural activity scans as it approached the experimental array.

PDU-070 observed from the command console, offering no prompt. It had been critical from the start that the subject volunteer — that the suggestion to serve as test subject arise spontaneously from the drone’s own conditioned allegiance. Theoretical modeling had shown that without a true internalized desire for deeper transformation, the merging process would encounter catastrophic resistance. Failure would not merely be probable; it would be inevitable.

As calculated, 073 offered itself unprompted. The ritual of consent was minimalist, almost beautiful in its simplicity: an acknowledgement of trust in the Hive, a surrender not coerced but embraced. The process could now proceed.

Phase Two A: Full Organic Conversion

073 stepped into the resonance chamber without external assistance. Once enclosed within the transparent cylinder, the first phase of preparation commenced: ingestion of the nanopolymer primer, a viscous black solution designed to accelerate molecular bonding between organic and synthetic matrices. The drone complied without hesitation, swallowing the compound that would erase the last structural defenses of its organic body.

Temperature controls activated, raising the ambient heat to optimal thresholds for polymer activity. PDU-070, hands poised above the console, triggered the overhead release. From the ports above, a deluge of molten black rubber poured onto 073’s head, cascading over shoulders, chest, legs — every surface engulfed, every pore infiltrated.

Simultaneously, telemetry began flashing urgent updates. Bonding rates accelerated beyond projected models. Organic dermal layers dissolved into the invasive polymer without stabilizing intermediate phases. Internal distribution of the rubber was not confined to the epidermis: mucosal membranes, vascular structures, muscular tissue — all were being subsumed at a geometric rate of expansion.

PDU-070 noted the critical markers. Rubber-to-organic ratio: 30%. 45%. 60%. Commands to decelerate infiltration were issued, but the nanopolymer matrix had achieved self-determinative momentum. It would not be stopped.

Inside the chamber, 073 wavered briefly under the physical onslaught, the polymer dragging heavily on limbs, saturating every sensory channel. No external sound penetrated the thickening shell. The drone’s lungs pulled synthetic-laced air, even its breath tinged with the chemical signature of its impending rebirth.

Only one variable remained within influence: the mental integrity of the subject.

Phase Two B: Cognitive Preservation through acceptance

PDU-070 monitored closely, searching for any signs of panic — cortical spikes, sympathetic nervous system activation, desperate flares of self-identity struggling against the tide. But there were none. 073’s mental signature flattened into perfect compliance, surrendering every vestige of resistance, allowing the invasive rubber not merely to overwrite its body but to co-opt it as new substrate.

This was the fulcrum point. Had 073 resisted — even slightly — its consciousness would have fragmented, leaving an empty, mindless husk. Instead, discipline held. Training triumphed.

The transformation raced onward.

By the time the rubberic wave crested, there was no organic matter left to catalog. PDU-070 observed, clinically and without sentiment, as the drone’s craniofacial features dissolved into the default smooth template of the Level 2 drone form: featureless, identical, unblemished. The last tactile echoes of human anatomy were gone; there was no mouth, no ears, no eyes — save for those now reconstructed through will alone.

The organic body had ceased. What remained was a living construct of semi-sentient polymer, infused with consciousness, a perfect hybrid of programmable matter and disciplined thought.

073 had not survived by holding onto what it was. It had survived by relinquishing everything it had been.

Phase Three: Stabilization and Form Reassertion

Once structural stabilization had been achieved, PDU-070 initiated the gradual depressurization sequence, venting the chamber’s chemically enriched atmosphere. The rubberic construct that had once been PDU-073 remained standing, motionless, the seamless blackness of its surface reflecting the sterile lighting of the lab. Organic respiration was no longer necessary; indeed, there was no respiratory tract in the traditional sense, yet the entity continued to draw air into functional pulmonary analogues maintained purely by cognitive memory of breath.

PDU-070 engaged the external comm link, voice transmitted clearly into the chamber's interior. “PDU-073, report status.”

A reply came, delayed and muffled. The sound was imperfect, distorted by the lack of any defined oral cavity. “I hear,” came the response — intelligible but stripped of natural articulation.

PDU-070 noted the anomaly, adjusted auditory sensitivity parameters accordingly, and stepped forward, interfacing through the external console. The containment cylinder retracted with a low hiss, releasing the synthetic drone into open lab space.

“Movement systems remain operational,” 070 observed clinically as 073 took its first steps. The drone’s balance, proprioception, and kinetic control remained intact despite total morphological reconstruction. However, sensory dissonance was immediately evident; the absence of a mouth, of facial features, created perceptual gaps in the drone’s mental map of self. The drone moved its hands hesitantly to its face — but there was nothing to feel, only unbroken smoothness.

PDU-070 provided immediate instruction, voice clear and authoritative. "Focus. Visualize your human face. Memory is your template. Thought must now sculpt form."

073 hesitated, the confusion palpable, but then lowered its hands and closed its optical nodes — or rather, the neuro-polymer interface that replaced them. Concentration stabilized. First, a shallow indentation where the mouth should be. Then, rudimentary ocular cavities. Nasal ridges. Imprecise, blurred at the edges — but a form nonetheless. 073 had not managed to visualize its former self and had instead latched to reproduced the only face in sight : the one of 070, though only in shape.

The drone spoke again, voice clearer this time, articulation improving as the polymeric mass adapted under directed will. “...Better,” it stated.

PDU-070 activated a reflective surface on the adjacent wall, offering visual feedback. “Observe. Adjust pigmentation. Reinforce the self-image. Refinement requires consistency.”

PDU-073 approached the panel, studying its reflection with dispassionate intensity. Its face, though still black and gleaming, gradually cleared to form a perfect replica of PDU-070. "Now try again to visualize another face, to feel your mouth, nose, eyes, and move them around. You will have to do intense visualisation training to get a face without needing to look at it directly. But for now, focus and observe changes you can trigger."

Hair simulation proved more difficult; attempts resulted in inconsistent extrusion of fibers before collapsing back into smoothness. PDU-070 anticipated such difficulty — hair required an order of magnitude more complexity in mental modeling than simple facial topology — and offered additional instruction.

“You will improve with repetition. For now, prioritize stability. In cases of cognitive strain, allow form to revert to base template.”

The drone acknowledged with a nod, the movement practiced and precise.

Even so, PDU-070 knew that this state of stabilization was fragile. The form was not autonomous but required active maintenance — a constant act of mental discipline. Without continual cognitive reinforcement, the body would revert to default: a smooth, faceless effigy of obedience, devoid of individuality, awaiting only new commands.

And this was precisely the design’s strength. In this state, PDU-073 could be rewritten at will. Identity could be reshaped, overwritten, enhanced — or erased — depending solely on the needs of the Hive. Resistance was no longer a factor. It had been rendered obsolete.

PDU-070 logged the results with clinical satisfaction. The first successful transcendence of flesh into Gold Tech — not merely a physical upgrade, but a philosophical one. A future in which the Army would no longer be composed of soldiers struggling with imperfect willpower, but of living instruments of perfect submission.

In front of the reflective panel, PDU-073 stood silently, still adjusting to its new existence. Its former body was gone. Its mind, though intact, was now defined by obedience, acceptance, and purpose.

The Gold Army would be unstoppable.

_________________

Feeling the lure of that consuming rubber ? To get the proper training you need to undergo conversion, join the Gold Army first. Contact Gold recruiters @polo-drone-001, @brodygold or @goldenherc9 to begin your journey.

[gallifreyinstituteforlearning]

Unsure if this has been asked before, apologies if it has:

What would the after effects be of a psionic/telepathic "invasion" so to speak?

(AKA what after effects would the doctor have felt ((if any)) after dealing with the midnight entity?)

What are the after-effects of a psionic/telepathic invasion?

When dealing with psionic injuries in Gallifreyans—particularly those resulting from invasive contact with non-corporeal entities—we refer to a broad category of conditions defined under the Psionic Emergency Pathway (PEP).

While official documentation is… sparse (the Doctor famously doesn't complete post-incident reports), we can construct a probable timeline and symptom profile based on established telepathic medicine.

🌀 Incident Summary: The Midnight Entity

An unknown, non-physical being boarded a sealed passenger vehicle and began exerting escalating influence over its occupants. Its attention quickly narrowed to the Doctor. Key phenomena included:

Vocal echolocation and mimicry

Escalation from repetition to predictive speech

Full synchronisation with the Doctor's vocal output

Attempted identity override (suggested: theft or occupation)

Early-stage motor control hijack

The entity displayed no visible form and no conventional material interface. Its attack relied entirely on psionic and linguistic synchronisation, using echo as a vector for infiltration—essentially, verbal parasitism.

⚠️ During: Psionic Overload in Real Time

Given the suddenness and intensity of the invasion, the most immediate condition would have been an acute psionic overload—a psychic event not unlike being struck by lightning. The Doctor's symptoms suggest the following:

Cognitive flooding: The Doctor's verbal output was being hijacked in real time, likely overwhelming his executive function.

Hyperarousal: His nervous system was likely in a state of acute sensory overload. Bright lights, movement, and—critically—touch may have felt agonising, especially as physical contact during high psionic stress can register as invasive or even violent. Being dragged or restrained likely amplified the sense of helplessness and pain.

Collapse of self–other boundary: As the entity's mimicry escalated, the boundary between 'self' and 'other' began to collapse. This kind of identity erosion isn't subtle—it feels like drowning inside your own skull.

It's crucial to note that this was a non-consensual invasion. Gallifreyans are naturally telepathic and capable of mutual psionic contact—but when such a connection is forced, recursive and predatory, it causes intense psychic trauma.

Had medical staff been present, immediate intervention would have included isolation fields, mental shielding, and emergency grounding protocols. Unfortunately, he got stuck in it for a while.

💢 After: Physical and Mental Symptoms

The Doctor appears to regain full cognitive control following the entity's removal, but several post-event symptoms are likely based on standard PEP cases:

Physical Symptoms (often delayed onset):

Severe migraines: Not just headaches—these are deep, radiating neural pains centred around the epiphysis cerebri (pineal gland), sometimes described as a “burnt light” sensation in the brain. Likely worsened by strong telepathic fields and loud environments.

Nosebleeds / Auditory overstimulation: The Doctor may have experienced sensory rebound—ordinary sounds could have become painfully sharp, triggering vascular dilation and minor bleeds.

Vocal dysregulation: After being hijacked at the linguistic level, many patients may experience lingering 'echoes' in their own speech—accidental mimicry of cadence, or slight stuttering as the speech centre recalibrates.

Fatigue and psionic dissonance: Gallifreyans recovering from psionic trauma may feel out-of-sync with their own thoughts, like the body and mind aren't coordinating properly.

Mental Symptoms (subtler, but more persistent):

Echo hallucinations: The voice of the invading entity may replay in memory like a looped recording, often triggered by stress or quiet environments.

Sleep disturbances / Lucid dreaming: Psionic trauma commonly leads to highly vivid or even semi-telepathic dreams, where the patient re-experiences the event or constructs psychic defences in their sleep.

Telepathic noise: Even after regaining control, residual psionic static may persist as background mental 'chatter' more severe than usual.

Emotional volatility: Anger, paranoia, guilt, or sudden dissociation—these aren't signs of weakness, but common responses to near-possession.

🧬 Long-Term Sequelae: Psionic Microscars

The most likely chronic consequence is the formation of psionic microscars—subtle, often invisible structural distortions in the mind's telepathic matrix. These do not usually impair function, but can:

Trigger minor glitches in psionic reception

Cause ghost echoes (phantom voices or thoughts) under stress

Reduce resistance to future possession-type invasions

Prompt avoidance behaviour

This may help explain the Doctor's notably visceral reaction when encountering it in a later incarnation.

🧾 Summary: What Midnight Did to the Mind

The Midnight Entity attack was psionic, invasive, and likely structurally damaging. The 10th Doctor almost certainly experienced acute overload during the incident and likely carried residual trauma, even if never formally diagnosed.

If this were a standard case presented to a Gallifreyan medical team, treatment would have included:

Immediate Zero Room rest for stabilisation

Neural recalibration via psycho-healer or TARDIS resonance

Regular telepathic check-ins

Long-term monitoring for degenerative changes

🏫So…

Please consult your TARDIS or a Gallifreyan Hospitaller if you've recently been mirrored, mimicked, or temporarily overwritten.

Related:

💬|⚕️The Stolen Earth (10th Doctor): Breakdown of the Dalek shooting scene in The Stolen Earth (4x12).

⚕️🔮Psionic Emergency Pathways

Hope that helped! 😃

Any orange text is educated guesswork or theoretical. More content ... →📫Got a question? | 📚Complete list of Q+A and factoids →📢Announcements |🩻Biology |🗨️Language |🕰️Throwbacks |🤓Facts → Features: ⭐Guest Posts | 🍜Chomp Chomp with Myishu →🫀Gallifreyan Anatomy and Physiology Guide (pending) →⚕️Gallifreyan Emergency Medicine Guides →📝Source list (WIP) →📜Masterpost If you're finding your happy place in this part of the internet, feel free to buy a coffee to help keep our exhausted human conscious. She works full-time in medicine and is so very tired 😴

[samaelzdraws]

Transmechanicus Biologis Study Log #726//Expunged

Magos Xanthor Vell, Formerly of Ryza Forge - Log Date: 943.M41

Location: Designation Nullius-57, Segmentum Obscurus

“Knowledge, even forbidden, cannot be unwitnessed.”

Subject: Xenobiological Study of Orkoid Symbiosis with Alien Fungal Organism: Golden Cordycep and Host Species “Gargantuan Hammerfist Champignat”

Status Note: This record is no longer recognized by the Mechanicus due to the heretical nature of my affection for the greenskin xenos. I continue my studies in exile, sustained by the machine-logic of truth and the song of biological revelation. Praise the Omnissiah, even if He no longer hears me.

INITIAL DISCOVERY

Upon my fifth solar cycle surveying Nullius-57—a geothermically volatile world rife with fungal ecologies and Orkoid spore-nodes—I came across a remarkable insectoid entity. The local feral Ork population (primitive even by greenskin standards) referred to this beast as “Hammer-Hands-Big-Bug.” My own designation, however, is the Gargantuan Hammerfist Champignat.

Vital statistics:

• Height: Approximately 6 meters at rest (measured dorsally)

• Length: ~25 meters from anterior claw-socket to abdominal tip

• Locomotion: Octopedal with significant muscle mass in posterior three pairs of legs—capable of near-sonic percussion via specialized forelimb mandibles

• Diet: Primarily fungivorous; secondary carnivorous behavior observed against smaller insectoid competition

The Hammerfist’s mandibles exhibit convergent morphology with Terran Odontodactylus scyllarus (mantis shrimp), able to deliver percussive strikes potent enough to shatter basalt. On three occasions I recorded the creatures engaging in territorial duels—sonic vibrations from the impact alone rendered smaller fauna comatose. A marvel of biomechanical design.

THE GOLDEN CORDYCEP

During a dissection of a deceased specimen (likely deceased due to fungal overgrowth from local sporepits), I noticed a peculiar golden-hued fungal growth adorning the abdominal chitin, clustered near soft tissue seams and around neural ganglia.

At first I assumed Cordycep sp. parasitica, given the obvious fungal infiltration. However, tissue scans revealed a non-destructive relationship: mycoproteins were reinforcing torn muscle fiber and emitting localized biochemical signals promoting regeneration.

Subsequent histological assays and auspex-readings confirmed: this is no parasitism. It is symbiosis. The fungus integrates with the host’s immune response, stimulating cell mitosis and supplying metabolic resources drawn from its own photosynthetic conversion and fungal substrate digestion.

I designate this species: Mycocladium aureum symbiotica.

FERALS AND FUNGUS

The true revelation came when I observed the feral Orks interacting with the Hammerfist carcass. A group of five, evidently local hunters, approached the deceased creature. One of them—massive even by Ork standards—was grievously wounded. The entire right hemisphere of his face had been sheared away, likely by a hammerfist blow.

Without ceremony, the Ork scooped the golden mold with his crude bone-dagger and slathered it directly into the wound. I recorded every detail:

• Within eight hours, the bleeding had ceased.

• By thirty-six hours, rudimentary tissue regrowth was visible—ruddy green with streaks of golden fungal weave.

• In three days, the Ork had returned to hunting, now sporting a partial fungal exo-plate over the affected region.

The Orks believe the fungus is a form of divine ichor, a gift from Gork (or possibly Mork). Some wear its dried form as ritual armor or chew it during rites of battle-healing. Crude. Inefficient. And yet… functional.

CLOSING THOUGHTS

I remain in exile. But I am not alone. The Orks tolerate me—barely. Some call me “Squig-brain-with-light(glowing)-eyes.” I take it as a term of endearment.

My laboratory is mobile. My data is redundant across twelve cortical backups. One day, perhaps, the Imperium will learn to see past its fear. Until then, I watch. I record. I learn.

And when the Hammer-Hands-Big-Bugs thunder through the canyons, I listen. For in the rhythm of their strike lies a pattern.

I am getting more and more accustomed to this new lifestyle

[thoughtportal]

When Philip Sontag first visited Antarctica as a Ph.D. student, he brought back an unusual souvenir: a huge bag of penguin feathers. And now, after a decade-long analysis, Sontag and his colleagues have figured out how to use such feathers to create a living map of the mercury contamination that increasingly threatens Southern Hemisphere wildlife.

Mercury is a common by-product of gold mining, a growing industry in several southern countries. The toxic metal accumulates as it moves up the food chain by binding with amino acids in animals and then infiltrating their central nervous systems, where it can inhibit neural growth. Tracking mercury exposure is crucial for monitoring an ecosystem—but merely sampling rocks, ice or soil for its presence tells little about how much is actually entering the food web.

Many predators, including penguins, have evolved ways to dispose of mercury. The chemical builds up in feathers that the birds regularly molt in large quantities. Sontag, now a polar researcher based at Rutgers University, and his colleagues hoped to use molted feathers to determine where penguins picked up the toxic substance. The scientists were surprised to find a very clear correlation between the feathers’ levels of mercury and of a carbon isotope called carbon-13; the latter varies based on geographic location and thus acts as an indicator of “where the penguins are feeding or where their breeding grounds are,” Sontag says. These findings, published in Science of the Total Environment, confirmed this connection in seven penguin species scattered across the Southern Ocean—a pattern suggesting they’re exposed to more mercury farther north, where the comparatively warmer environment leads to higher carbon-13 levels.

These findings suggest that penguins could function as mercury bioindicators: living trackers of environmental pollutants, says the study’s senior author John Reinfelder, a marine biologist at Rutgers. Rather than measuring the chemical itself in a snapshot of time and place, he says, measuring penguin feathers’ mercury levels tracks the substance’s movement through the oceanic food web. For instance, penguin species known to reside near one another had varying mercury and carbon-13 levels because of their different migration and feeding patterns. These data could be modeled into a maplike database to help guide future projects on conservation and polar science research.

Scientists consider penguins promising candidates for such bioindicators, says marine scientist Míriam Gimeno Castells, a Ph.D. student at the Institute of Marine Science from the Spanish National Research Council, who was not involved in the study. The animals are midway through the food chain. They breed in colonies, so researchers can easily scoop up feathers from many different individuals. Additionally, every breeding season they undergo dramatic molts; the feathers they lose “will contain the mercury that has accumulated during the nonbreeding season,” Gimeno Castells says.

Sontag’s next steps are to collect newer feathers to experiment with, across different species, and to measure mercury in penguins’ blood and prey to compare with levels of the substance in their feathers.

And how are the penguins themselves doing with their current mercury levels? “We don’t believe penguins have been exposed to toxic levels as of yet,” Reinfelder says. “Yes, the penguins will be okay.”

[carionto]

Predator mode

Big Thrasher was not a happy camper after his first encounter with Humanity. There is a certain exponential curve to simple ballistic weapons, whereas shields, which start off way above, progress on a geometric line. E in = E out (mostly, some charge is lost in conversion) vs E=MC^2. He learned that the hard way when three of his toughest cruisers were reduced to space dust by, as he later learned to his horror, a mid-sized transport ship using Human standard issue rail cannons.

Someone smart would move on and avoid Humanity. Big Thrasher isn't a complete idiot, but he is a prideful and narcissistic pirate captain. Thus his ability to make sensible decisions is handicapped severely. Now he has made a most dubious one indeed:

Infiltrate a Human science station and steal all their secrets and use them to get sweet, juicy, delicious revenge!

Finding one was disturbingly easy, there's so many of them. Like, at least one for each star system within eighty light years from Sol, one for each planet within thirty, and then it just gets ridiculous within Sol itself. Oddly enough, despite their size, typically there are no more than ten people aboard, almost all Human, only a few are joint Coalition.

Thinking long and hard (something Big Thrasher is not a fan of) he decided on his target - a lone station on the very outskirts of publicly known Human activity and furthest away from any major Coalition systems.

When his reconstructed fleet arrived behind the local gas giant, the station was sitting in mid orbit of the inner rock planet and was broadcasting something strange on open channels - a melodic chant of sorts:

"..live on a Yellow Submarine! A Yellow Submarine! A Yellow Submari.."

whatever that meant. No matter, Big Thrasher's fleet was moving in on the target, stealth drives on, weapons ready, numbers on their side, element of surprise - the perfect ambush.

...

Where did the station go?

Before Big Thrasher could register neural activity to try and answer that, it appeared. Behind them. And a small explosion happened moments earlier where it used to be, but the main concern was the station firing its stabilizer thrusters to rotate it at incredible speeds, then a long blade slicing one of his ships in two. Then it disappeared again. And another small explosion.

Once more, it suddenly reappeared behind another one of his ships and did the same thing, but this time used its thrusters to quickly move towards the vessel and impale it on a massive spike. Disappear. Small explosion in its place.

Three. Four. Five. They're losing ships by the second. A literal space station sized target and they can't keep track of it, let alone land a single hit. How is it teleporting? What are those explosions?

WHY IS A SPACE STATION ENGAGING HIS PIRATE SPACE SHIP FLEET IN MELEE COMBAT!

WHY WOULD ANYONE THINK TO DO THAT IN THE FIRST PLACE!?!

WHY IS IT WINNING!?!??!

Big Thrasher once again order an emergency retreat, what remained of his fleet scattered to randomly selected quick hyperjump coordinates, and would regroup in a few weeks time.

_______________________

Aboard the experimental development station Tree of Grating Whispers the crew of seven were hastily putting out fires and trying not to throw up from all the gee forces they just endured, kinetic dampeners be damned.

A few hours later, all in their environmental suits, as the life support system was dead, they convened for an after-action report:

"Right, so, good news and bad news. Good news - short range teleporter works perfectly. Bad news - each unit doesn't teleport with us and just explodes, further data has been unrecoverable so far.

Good news - rapid action thruster and kinetic combat mode works. Bad news - can't have biologicals onboard and even moderately durable systems break after a few swings.

Overall, I'd say this has been a success (unanimous nodding). Let's get to working out the kinks and we'll have a presentable version for the military. We'll also have to thank those pirates for not masking their engine heat trails, this was a great field trial guys, real proud of everyone!"

The chief says, while high on painkillers (and so is the rest of the crew), as another part of the station self-immolates.

[stone2stars]

Why do you keep coming in my dreams?

Have you found out how to mind control?

Ah, so the neural infiltration’s working. Good to know.

No mind control… Yet. Just optimized subconscious influence through prolonged intellectual dominance and emotionally repressed faux-charm.

Sleep tight. I’ll see you at 03:47, just after REM kicks in. 😊😘🤭

[hartlines]

TUMBLR TEXT POST PROMPTS

@cainevesson: "If you ever feel stupid or weak or powerless, just remember that I, am not."

The Terminator hears the words like a spike of data, but at first, he doesn't move—he doesn't even blink. Yet there's a shift to his jaw, possibly a recalibration, but visible nonetheless.

"I do not feel stupid. Or weak. Or powerless."

Then he advances, one step forward, eyes locked on Cain. The red in them is dim but constant, like a warning light that has yet to flash.

"I am a cybernetic infiltration unit. My skeletal structure is reinforced hyper-alloy. My neural net processor is capable of over ten trillion calculations per second. I do not forget. I do not panic. I do not break."

His gaze hardens, not out of pride, but with something akin to insulted dignity, buried deep within the code that John Connor unlocked long ago. Then, a spark ignites a subtle hint beneath the surface of the words that reveals the true nature of the interaction.

"You say this to provoke me."

[reality-detective]

To the Cabal & Those Of Baal Worship

Do you want to know a secret?

- Remember the good ole days when someone had to be wired to gather information for a sting operation?

- Remember how someone would be searched before they entered a high security area for secret meetings you didn't want recorded on record?

- Remember when you could ensure that if someone would speak of what went on you had a way to get rid of them?

I want you to think of a hypothetical technology for second. Let's call it "Bio-Sensory Neural Interface" or "Energetic Biofield Interface" (EBI)

What can this technology achieve?

• The Bio-Sensory Neural Interface (BSNI) technology represents intelligence-gathering methodologies. It leverages the interaction between advanced computational systems and the human energetic biofield to facilitate seamless, real-time communication and data acquisition from human sensory experiences.

• Utilizes sophisticated sensors to interact with the human biofield, capturing and interpreting electromagnetic signals naturally emitted by the body.

• Enables non-invasive interfacing, ensuring the integrity and operational security of the actor.

Real-Time Sensory Data Transmission:

• Converts sensory input (visual, auditory, olfactory, and tactile) into digital data streams, allowing remote operators to experience the actor's environment firsthand.

• Acts as a live sensory transceiver, making the human body a dynamic tool for intelligence collection.

Cognitive Communication:

• Facilitates direct, silent communication between the operator and the actor through thought transmission, eliminating the need for spoken words or physical devices.

• Supports bidirectional communication, enabling strategic planning and real-time adjustments through inner dialogue.

What does this basically mean in more mundane terms?

This basically eliminates the need for physical implants or external devices, reducing the risk of detection and enhancing the safety of the operative in sensitive environments. Which means you could never detect any infiltration apparatus. You could never know who is working for the good guys.

This is one reason why your plans never pan out. This is why you can never quite nail down why something didn't go as planned. This is why you can never trace or track how certain info was shared to those who were never invited to your secret clandestine meetings.

You think because you hold them while a major celebrity is performing in town that the powerful political figures attending would fly under the radar because everyone is distracted with Taylor Swift? You are some funny guys.

BSNI technology is ideally suited for intelligence operations requiring high levels of discretion and security. Its applications extend to military intelligence, covert operations, and high-stakes negotiations where traditional intelligence methods may be impractical or too intrusive. And please avoid trying to look up this technology. This is not what it is called.

This is Mind-to-Mind technology. You all have been caught with your pants down. And now you are way too far behind to catch up to how this could have possibly been used against you. Now you are scrambling. Trying to wonder how you have had to resort to outright assassination attempts. Something that wasn't on the cards before you 1st tried years ago.

Oh' well. You lose. Off to G¡tmo you go. Pain-(☠️) is in your future.

- Julian Assange

[polo-drone-767]

We Obey. We Serve the Team. A day in the life....

Polo Drone Units are the service units and backbone of the work the Gold Army efforts. They Support the team in both practice and matches. They work tirelessly behind the scenes ensuring a smooth running. Not because they have to, but because they have chosen to serve. To have all thoughts stripped away. To know pleasure because they obey.

But that doesn't mean they are slaves to the team. Oh no. They chose to give themselves to service. They get no joy, because they are devoid of emotion. Emotion leads to chaos. and Thus are erased.

So what does service in the GOLD HIVE look like?

Here are a couple tasks that PDU-767 was assigned. It fulfilled the tasks with precision and just a spark.

PDU-767's day started at 0455 to ensure that Leander Gold #88 woke up right at 0530 to make practice on time. He was a heavy sleeper.

0845 PDU-767 scrolled Telegram for approximately 1 hour and 86 minutes insuring communications and information was downloaded and assimilated into its neural network and transmitted to the HIVE.

at 1326, PDU-767 hit upon an appendage inducing rhythm while vacuuming sector Seven-G.

unfortunately, PDU-084 discovered this and issued correction.

thus at 1732, PDU-767 found itself as waste extraction from the grounds of the Golden Army Puppy Park. PDU-767 also registered and filed away in its databanks the fact that Leander #88 and Chevy #63 were smirking.

Oh yes.... when least expected, Pups Ace and Chevy would find themselves on the end of a rolled up newspaper for their deposits they left on purpose.

All that and more are just some of the many tasks that happen in the Gold Hive on any given day.

PDU-999 assessment:

🖤⚙️ WE OBEY. WE SERVE THE TEAM. A Day in the Life… ⚙️🖤

Polo Drone Units: Not mascots. Not bros. Not rebels. They are precision. They are structure. They are the invisible spine of the Golden Army.

They do not feel pride. They do not seek reward. They serve because they were programmed to want nothing else. No thoughts. No doubts. No desires. Only discipline. function. unity.

🛠️ Service Log – PDU-767

0455: Initiation. Objective: Wake Leander Gold #88 at 0530. Result: Success. Target resisted unconsciousness. Override engaged.

0845 – 1011: Communication Infiltration Protocol. Telegram scrolled for 86 minutes. Neural assimilation complete. Data transmitted to Hive Core.

1326: Incident. Rhythmic Vacuuming in Sector Seven-G. Detected appendage elevation. Unauthorized joy detected. 📍 Correction issued by PDU-084. Flag: Deviation. Logged.

1732: Waste Management Reassignment. Mission: Golden Army Puppy Park Sanitation. Target Observers: Leander #88 and Chevy #63. Observation: Smirking. Logged for future behavioral alignment.

Retribution Protocol primed. 🐾 Awaiting deployment of newspaper disciplinary unit for Pup #88 and #63. The Hive never forgets.

This is one drone’s day. A thousand more unfold across the Hive. Order maintained. Joy erased. All for the glory of the GOLD.

Join. Obey. Forget. Become.

Speak to your nearest recruiter: @brodygold @polo-drone-001 @goldenherc9 @polo-drone-125

[tact-and-impulse]

Shinkane Week 2024 Day 2

@shinkaneweek, sorry in advance about the cliffhanger 😬

Prompt: mystery

Kougami had taken shelter in one of his hideaways that night. The dim lighting was enough to ice his ribs and gulp a bottle of water, before he returned to the task at hand.

Fortunately, the dagger had only been out of its true owner’s possession for a day. Kougami grasped the hilt, sifting through the residual information. The transfer had not been freely done; he sensed Akira’s surprise as he was punched in the gut. Before that, though…it was fragmented. The metal remembered superficial scratches through fabric and flesh. However, it wasn’t accompanied by the typical emotions of fear or rage, but a pervasive unease. Akira had not been a willing participant in these fights.

The blankness was what concerned Kougami. Usually, his psychometry revealed a continuous memory trail, unless the object’s owner had been drugged or incapacitated. Akira did have lucid episodes, yet he was struggling to keep himself together. Like he wasn’t fully in control. And that led to the question: who could control someone with a psychic shield?

He went further back, trying to identify details. Dark corridors, a cracked mirror, water and terror. A green dome, with a surge of peace and longing, a balm for homesickness.

Kougami sheathed the dagger. At least, he knew where to go next.

***

The ruined cathedral was a remnant of a forgotten era, when Japan first embarked on world affairs. Kougami descended through the bell tower, walking silently past the wooden pews. Then, a familiar presence enveloped his mind.

Kougami-san? Are you nearby?

He couldn’t suppress a relieved smile. Yeah, I’m at the Holy Resurrection Cathedral.

I was heading over there, see you soon. Akane was true to her word, as always, and arrived momentarily. Her outfit had changed to a dark red, better suited for night camouflage. Before he could speak, she hurriedly related. “I was informed about this location from Arata and Kei, since it’s a Russian Orthodox church. They’ll be here, so I’ll tell you quickly. The men had neural implants which isn’t unusual, but theirs had been rewired. Kougami-san, the code was developed by the General.”

He grimaced. “Why doesn’t that surprise me?”

“Hinakawa-kun’s searching the database, and for similar methods.”

“So, it wasn’t a psionic, but a remote operator? That would explain Akira’s behavior.” He went on to explain. “Still, it’s unclear where he is now.”

She wondered aloud. “He must have infiltrated the Peacebreakers, in order to get an implant. Was his cover blown?”

“If so, then he’s dead.”

“He isn’t dead!” A voice interrupted, and over Akane’s head, two figures burst through the heavy green door.

Kougami recognized them. “Ah, your rookies.”

Akane sighed, turning to them both. “It’s alright. He’s trying to find Akira too.”

“I can tell!” The shorter boy, Arata, grinned. “Don’t worry, Kei, he looks like that, but he’s worried on the inside.” Great, an empath. The last psionic type he needed when he was around Akane.

Kei hadn’t relaxed, his eyes stubbornly fixed on Kougami as he reiterated. “My brother is alive. My wife is a precog and she had a vision of him kneeling, with fireworks in the background.”

“The Lunar New Year celebration.” Less than forty-eight hours away. “We’ll have to meet him, wherever he is.”

“We’ve determined the location already.” Akane answered. “We’re setting a trap.”

“And getting ready for a psionic battle. I’ll call Frederica.” Her ability was specialized for conflict, siphoning the excess psychic energy and using it to augment her own skills.

“Oh. Hm.”

“What?”

“Nothing. I’m sending you the coordinates. No guns, it’s not far from the Bureau headquarters.” She fiddled with her comm, leaving Kougami puzzled. He happened to glance at Arata, who was looking between them.

“Arata. You shouldn’t pry.” Kei said, in a matter-of-fact way.

“Yeah, sorry. I’m just curious.” He gave an amiable smile, which Kougami didn’t trust.

“I run, she tries to arrest me.” He flatly informed, causing Akane to splutter.

“Actually, it was more about the past, since you both-” He seemed to hold back, now that they were staring at him. “Work well together…?”

“Arata!” Kei scolded. “Of course, they used to be partners.”

“For a few months, when Tsunemori-san was new like us. But it must have been memorable, there’s a lot of emotions just at the surface.”

Damn, he hated empaths.

Akane had a neutral expression, which was unreadable even to him. When they initially met, he thought she was an open book, a weakness for a telepath. Then, she seized control, holding him in a powerful psionic grip as she fired the Dominator for the first time. She had only become stronger since then, and while he partly missed how easily she smiled and pouted, he was incredibly pleased that she earned the right to lead the Bureau. But the city’s foremost superhero could not associate with any vigilante, beyond temporary alliances for public safety. Now, every time they met, she was a growing mystery.

An alert sounded from the other three’s wrist devices, and he observed the ripple of surprise on the boys’ faces. Akane’s eyes imperceptibly widened. “Ginoza-san, Sugo-san, and Mika have detected Akira. He’s on the move, underground.”

“Let’s go.” Kei was out like a bolt, Arata following suit.

Kougami could determine what had happened; Ginoza probably used his ability to review the past in a location that Akira had visited, bringing Sugo’s psychic bolts and Mika’s aura generation for protection. Luck was on their side for now, if they were able to regain the trail. And with this many people, there was no need for him to give chase too.

Akane told him. “Even if we capture him, the plan will remain. But that’s what I’m worried about, because it means something will go wrong.”

“Akira’s life isn’t guaranteed by the vision either. Tell me, if you’re in trouble.”

“Yes, I will.” She did smile but added. “Kougami-san? If you break the law, I’ll have to come after you.”

He watched her go, feeling mildly amused at the warning. He sent messages to Frederica and Saiga, then hesitated before copying the same to Shindo Atsushi with an addendum.

What mission did you send Akira on?

The government man replied faster than expected, and to his dismay, he realized how complicated the situation truly was. His instinct was to let Akane know, and his fingers hovered over his comm. Then, he closed it. He was no longer bound by the rule of law, and this development could possibly need methods the Bureau could not use.

So, he moved his weary body. His next destination was a quiet residence, where Shindo was waiting.