#Embedded Operating Systems

[bitstream24]

CAN Bus Development for Embedded Systems: With and Without an Operating System

Explore the differences in CAN Bus development between embedded systems with or without an operating system. Compare Linux-based Raspberry Pi with PiCAN HATs to bare-metal Teensy and ESP32 platforms. Learn which solution fits your application needs.

[creativeera]

Embedded Computing Marled is Anticipated to Witness High Growth Owing to Wide Adoption Across End-use Industries

Embedded computing refers to a computer system that is part of a larger mechanical or electrical system designed to perform a dedicated function. Embedded systems are designed for specific control functions within embedded products and machines and operate under the direct control of an embedded program. Some key features of embedded systems include rugged construction, low power usage, real-time operating capabilities and compact size. Embedded devices are commonly found in industrial equipment, automobiles, consumer electronics, home appliances and medical devices to control electronic systems. Their key advantage is the ability to control electronic processes in a precise, flexible and cost-effective manner.

The global embedded computing market is estimated to be valued at US$ 112.45 Bn in 2024 and is expected to reach US$ 174.38 Bn by 2031, exhibiting a compound annual growth rate (CAGR) of 6.5% from 2024 to 2031.

Wide adoption across industries such as industrial automation, transportation, healthcare, telecommunication and consumer electronics is fueling market growth. Embedded systems allow streamlining of electronic processes, reducing downtimes and operation costs for end-use industries. Key Takeaways Key players operating in the embedded computing market are Advanced Micro Devices (AMD), Inc., Advantech Co., Ltd., Avalue Technology Inc., Curtiss-Wright Corporation, Dell Technologies Inc., Emerson Electric Co., Fujitsu Limited, General Electric Company, Hewlett Packard Enterprise Company, Honeywell International Inc., Intel Corporation, Kontron ST AG, Mitsubishi Electric Corporation, Rockwell Automation, Inc., and Texas Instruments Incorporated. The Embedded Computing Market Demand offers significant opportunities for system integrators and solution providers through new product development and capability expansion. Growing digitization trends across industry verticals will continue to generate strong demand for embedded systems with advanced computing and connectivity features. Leading embedded computing companies are focusing on global expansion strategies through partnerships, joint ventures and acquisitions to solidify their presence in emerging economies of Asia Pacific, Latin America, Middle East and Africa. These regions offer high growth potential driven by ongoing modernization of infrastructure and growing electronics manufacturing activities. Market Drivers Wide adoption across industrial automation applications is a key driver for the embedded computing market. Use of embedded systems allows streamlining of electronic processes, reducing downtimes and operation costs for industrial equipment manufacturers. Growing connectivity trends through Industrial Internet of Things (IIoT) will further propel demand. Rising electronics content in automobiles is positively impacting the market. Advanced driver assistance systems, infotainment systems and vehicle networking require powerful embedded computing solutions. Strict fuel efficiency and vehicle emissions norms will accelerate integration of embedded computing hardware. Market Restrain Design complexity of developing embedded system on a chip (SoC) poses challenges, especially for integrating advanced Embedded Computing Companies capabilities with low power requirements. This increases new product development timelines and costs. Limited standardization across various embedded system platforms inhibits seamless interoperability, data exchange and application portability. This poses difficulties for globally distributed product development activities.

Segment Analysis Automotive industrial and transportation is dominating the embedded computing market due to increasing implementation of advanced driver-assistance systems, connected vehicles solutions, electric vehicles, and autonomous vehicles. According to recent surveys over 65% of all new light vehicles shipped will have features like adaptive cruise control, automatic emergency braking, and blind spot monitoring by 2030. All these emerging technologies are driving the growth of embedded systems in automotive applications. Security and defense is another major sub segment in the embedded computing market owing to rising implementation of thermal weapon sights, combat management systems, imaging payloads and guidance systems in warships, aircraft carriers and fighter jets. Real-time information, enhanced situational awareness and integrated mission capabilities are some key priorities for embedded systems in defense applications. Various nations are also focusing on developing autonomous weapons which will further augment demand in coming years. Global Analysis North America dominates the global embedded computing market with a share of over 35% due to substantial research funding and presence of major OEMs in the region. US and Canada are hub for embedded technology development owing to advancement in networking infrastructure, IoT penetration and adoption of Industry 4.0 concepts. Asia Pacific shows fastest growth momentum led by China, India, Japan and South Korea. Low manufacturing cost and government initiatives to digitize industries are driving Asia Pacific market. Intensifying Sino-US trade war may impact supply chain dynamics in long run. Europe captures around 25% market share led by Germany, United Kingdom and France.

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About Author:

Money Singh is a seasoned content writer with over four years of experience in the market research sector. Her expertise spans various industries, including food and beverages, biotechnology, chemical and materials, defense and aerospace, consumer goods, etc. (https://www.linkedin.com/in/money-singh-590844163)

[blockverse-infotech]

Navigating Through the Depths of Embedded Software: Testing and Verification Strategies

In the complex realm of technology, Embedded Systems serve as the quiet foundation, driving a variety of devices from intelligent gadgets to automotive systems. At the core of these systems lies the embedded software, the unseen power coordinating smooth operation. However, ensuring the dependability and strength of this software is not a simple task. Step into the domain of Embedded Systems Testing and Verification, where BlockVerse Infotech Solutions emerges as a beacon of expertise and ingenuity.

In a time where flawless performance is a must, the importance of thorough testing and verification strategies cannot be overstressed. BlockVerse Infotech Solutions acknowledges this necessity and offers a comprehensive method tailored to tackle the distinctive challenges presented by embedded software.

Initially, understanding the complexities of the embedded environment holds great importance. BlockVerse utilizes a combination of white-box and black-box testing methods to explore deep within the software’s internal operations while replicating real-world situations. This detailed approach ensures not only functional accuracy but also deals with performance, reliability, and security concerns.

Moreover, Blockverse utilizes cutting-edge tools and techniques to simplify the testing process. From automated test frameworks to model-based testing, each tool is utilized with precision to optimize efficiency without compromising quality. By utilizing virtual platforms and emulation, BlockVerse enables thorough testing across various hardware configurations, preventing compatibility issues proactively.

However, testing alone does not guarantee the integrity of embedded software. Verification, the process of confirming that the software meets predefined requirements, is equally crucial. BlockVerse adopts a varied verification approach covering code reviews, static analysis, and formal methods. By scrutinizing every line of code and adhering to industry standards, BlockVerse guarantees compliance with strict quality benchmarks.

To wrap up, embedded software plays a crucial role in modern technology, and its reliability is crucial. With BlockVerse Infotech Solutions leading the way, navigating the intricacies of Embedded Systems Testing and Verification becomes more than just a challenge; it transforms into an opportunity to enhance performance, improve reliability, and propel innovation forward.

[violent138]

Uh hard disagree with this. Medical Student Damian Wayne would be so fucking fascinating to explore (based on his character archetype, growth and also his unusual skillset), followed by Doctor Damian Wayne (ER doc/trauma surgeon is where my money's at):

Firstly, Damian balancing the corruption of Gotham and navigating the system of medical care and the evilness/cruelties embedded and going after those is fascinating. He could solve medical cases in a House MD style fashion (without the pills) AND find organ thieves or provide evidence for serial killers to the Batfam.

Secondly, the comics themselves would be a great exploration of whether this means the Gotham Project ultimately fails to make meaningful change and whether Thomas and Leslie's less violent and community-focused treatment was a better strategy.

Thirdly, a discussion about personal freedom in the face of "destiny" and obligations to vigilantism, and also the conflict of whether Damian would want to return or not, especially because this life is all he's known.

Fourthly, I want to see Dami struggle with obeying laws that violate moral principles and balance his own way of doing things with a team he's forced to operate alongside.

[reality-detective]

BOOM!!! TRUMP’S CHEMTRAIL STRIKE BEGINS — FIRST GEOENGINEERING ARREST IN U.S. HISTORY

The sky war has officially gone HOT.

President Trump’s Chemtrails Task Force has launched its first coordinated strike — resulting in the first-ever arrest tied to illegal atmospheric geoengineering. The Deep State’s aerial warfare program is crumbling.

They called us crazy. They mocked the chemtrail warnings. They silenced truth. But now? THEY’RE BEING ARRESTED.

For decades, patriots were told it was all “condensation.” That the skies weren’t being tampered with. But those streaks weren’t water vapor — they were the exhaust trails of Deep State environmental warfare.

Now, under Trump’s direct command, a classified multi-agency task force involving Space Force, loyal Air Force units, and DOJ insiders has begun rounding up the traitors.

TARGETS IDENTIFIED. FINANCIAL NETWORKS FROZEN. OPERATIVES IN CUSTODY.

A senior EPA official tied to unauthorized spraying ops has been detained. Private contractors linked to aerial dispersal tech are next. These weren’t just rogue experiments — this was organized ecological sabotage.

Follow the money: Billions routed through fake green initiatives and climate tech shells. These “eco” elites were getting paid to poison crops, shift weather patterns, and destroy food supply chains.

Shadow departments inside federal agencies are being dismantled. These weren’t fringe operations. They were embedded in the system — funded by OUR tax dollars to destroy OUR skies.

And the media? TOTAL BLACKOUT.

No headlines. No press releases. No experts on CNN. Because they’re complicit. Owned by the same cartels behind the chemical sky war.

This silence IS the proof.

The arrests are only the beginning. Thousands of sealed indictments are prepped. CEOs. Scientists. Politicians. Military traitors. Everyone who touched this agenda will fall.

TRUMP IS UNLEASHING FULL DISCLOSURE.

Weather modification. Drought creation. Biochemical cloud seeding. These aren’t theories anymore — they’re EVIDENCE. And the American people are about to witness a STORM like no other.

PATRIOTS WERE RIGHT.

THE BATTLE FOR THE SKIES HAS BEGUN.

AND THIS TIME — WE TAKE THEM BACK. 🤔

[matcha3mochi]

PROTOCOL Pairing: Doctor Zayne x Nurse Reader

author note: love and deepspace is my addiction guys LOL anyways enjoy!!

wc: 3,865

✦•┈๑⋅⋯ ⋯⋅๑┈•✦

Akso Hospital looms in the heart of Linkon like a monument of glass, metal, and unrelenting precision. Multi-tiered, climate-controlled, and fully integrated with city-wide telemetry systems, it's known across the cosmos for housing the most advanced medical AI and the most exacting surgeons in the Union.

Inside its Observation Deck on Level 4, the air hums with quiet purpose. Disinfectant and filtered oxygen mix in sterile harmony. The floors are polished to a mirrored sheen, the walls pulse faintly with embedded biometrics, and translucent holoscreens scroll real-time vitals, arterial scans, and surgical priority tags in muted color-coded displays.

You’ve been on the floor since 0500. First to check vitals. First to inventory meds. First to get snapped at.

Doctor Zayne Li is already here—of course he is. The man practically lives in the operating theatres. Standing behind the panoramic glass that overlooks Surgery Bay Delta, he looks like something carved out of discipline and frost. His pristine long coat hangs perfectly from squared shoulders, gloves tucked with methodical precision, silver-framed glasses reflecting faint readouts from the transparent interface hovering before him.

He’s the hospital’s prized cardiovascular surgeon. The Zayne Li—graduated top of his class from Astral Medica, youngest surgeon ever certified for off-planet cardiac reconstruction, published more than any other specialist in the central systems under 35. There's even a rumor he once performed a dual-heart transplant in an emergency gravity failure. Probably true.

He’s a legend. A genius.

And an ass.

He’s never once smiled at you. Never once said thank you. With other staff, he’s distant but civil. With you, he’s something else entirely: cold, strict, and unrelentingly sharp. If you breathe wrong, he notices. If you hesitate, he corrects. If you do everything by protocol?

He still finds something to critique.

"Vitals on Bed 12 were late," he said this morning without even turning his head. No greeting. Just judgment, clean and surgical.

"They weren’t late. I had to reset the cuff."

"You should anticipate equipment failures. That’s part of the job."

And that was it. No acknowledgment of the three critical patients you’d managed in that hour. No recognition. No room for explanation. He turned away before you could blink, his coat slicing behind him like punctuation.

You don’t like him.

You don’t disrespect him—because you're a professional, and because he's earned his reputation a hundred times over. But you don’t like how he talks to you like you’re a glitch in the system. Like you’re a deviation he hasn’t figured out how to reprogram.

You’ve worked under strict doctors before. But Zayne is different. He doesn’t push to challenge you. He pushes to see if you’ll break.

And the worst part?

You haven’t.

Which only seems to piss him off more.

You watch him now from the break table near the edge of the deck, your synth-coffee going tepid between your hands. He’s reviewing scans on a projection screen—high-res, rotating 3D models of a degenerating bio-synthetic valve. His eyes, a pale hazel-green, flick across the data with sharp focus. His arms are folded behind his back, posture perfect, expression unreadable.

He hasn’t noticed you.

Correction: he has, and he’s pointedly ignoring you.

Typical.

You take another sip of coffee, more bitter than before. You could head back to inventory. You could restock surgical trays. But you don’t.

Because part of you refuses to give him the satisfaction of leaving first.

So you stay.

And so does he.

Two professionals. Two adversaries. One cold war fought in clipped words, clinical tension, and overlapping silence.

And the day hasn’t even started yet.

The surgical light beams down like a second sun, flooding the operating theatre in harsh, clinical brightness. It washes the color out of everything—blood, skin, even breath—until all that remains is precision.

Doctor Zayne Li stands at the head of the table, gloved hands elevated and scrubbed raw, sleeves of his sterile gown clinging tight around his forearms. His eyes flick up to the vitals screen, then down to the patient’s exposed chest.

“Vitals?” he asks.

You answer without hesitation. “Steady. HR 82, BP 96/63, oxygen at 99%, no irregularities.”

His silence is your only cue to proceed.

You hand him the scalpel, handle first, exactly as protocol demands. He doesn’t look at you when he takes it—but his fingers graze yours, cold through double-layered gloves, and the contact still sends a tiny jolt up your arm. Annoying.

He makes the incision without fanfare, clean and deliberate, the kind of cut that only comes from years of obsessive mastery. The kind that still makes your gut tighten to watch.

You monitor the instruments, anticipating without crowding him. You’ve been assisting in his surgeries for weeks now. You’ve learned when he prefers the microclamp versus the stabilizer. You’ve memorized the sequence of his suturing pattern. You know when to speak and when not to. Still, it’s never enough.

“Retractor,” he says flatly.

You’re already reaching.

“Not that one.”

Your hand freezes mid-motion.

His tone is ice. “Cardiac thoracic, not abdominal. Are you even awake?”

A hot flush rises behind your ears. He doesn’t yell—Zayne never yells—but his disappointment cuts deeper than a scalpel. You grit your teeth and correct the tray.

“Cardiac thoracic,” you repeat. “Understood.”

No response. Just the soft click of metal as he inserts the retractor into the sternotomy.

The rest of the operation is silence and beeping. You suction blood before he asks. He cauterizes without hesitation. The damaged aortic valve is removed, replaced with a synthetic graft designed for lunar-pressure tolerance. It’s delicate work��millimeter adjustments, microscopic thread. One wrong move could tear the tissue.

Zayne doesn’t shake. Doesn’t blink. He’s terrifyingly still, even as alarms spike and the patient's BP dips for three agonizing seconds.

“Clamp. Now,” he says.

You pass it instantly. He seals the nicked vessel, stabilizes the pressure, and the monitor quiets.

You exhale—but not too loudly. Not until the final suture is tied, the chest closed, and the drape removed. Then, and only then, does he speak again.

“Clean,” he says, already walking away. “Prepare a report for Post-Op within the hour.”

You stare at his retreating back, fists clenched at your sides. No thank you. No good work. Just a cold command and disappearing footsteps.

The Diagnostic Lab is silent, save for the low hum of scanners and the occasional pulse of a vitascan completing a loop. The walls are steel-paneled with matte black inlays, lit only by the soft glow of holographic interfaces. Ambient light drifts in from a side wall of glass, showing the icy curve of Europa in the distance, half-shadowed in space.

You stand alone at a curved diagnostics console, sleeves rolled just above your elbows, eyes locked on the 3D hologram spinning in front of you. The synthetic heart pulses slowly, arteries reconstructed with precise synthetic grafts. The valve—a platinum-carbon composite—is functioning perfectly. You check the scan tags, patient ID, op codes, and log the post-op outcome.

Everything’s clean. Correct.

Or so you thought.

You barely register the soft hiss of the door opening behind you until the room shifts. Not in volume, but in pressure—like gravity suddenly increased by one degree.

You don’t turn. You don’t have to.

Zayne.

“Line 12 in the file log,” he says, voice low, composed, and close. Too close.

You blink at the screen. “What about it?”

“You mislabeled the scan entry. That’s a formatting violation.”

Your heart rate ticks up. You straighten your spine.

“No,” you reply calmly, “I used trauma tags from pre-op logs. They cross-reference with the emergency surgical queue.”

His footsteps approach—measured, deliberate—and stop directly behind you. You sense the heat of his body before anything else. He’s not touching you, but he’s close enough that you feel him standing there, like a charged wire humming at your back.

“You adapted a tag system that’s not recognized by this wing’s software. If these were pushed to central review, they’d get flagged. Wasting time.” His tone is even. Too even.

Your hands rest on the edge of the console. You force your shoulders not to tense.

“I made a call based on the context. It was logical.”

“You’re not here to improvise logic,” he replies, stepping even closer.

You feel the air change as he raises his arm, reaching past you—his coat sleeve brushing the side of your bicep lightly, the barest whisper of contact. His hand moves with surgical confidence as he taps the air beside your own, opening the tag metadata on the scan you just logged. His fingers are long, gloved, deliberate in motion.

“This,” he says, highlighting a code block, “should have been labeled with an ICU procedural tag, not pre-op trauma shorthand.”

You turn your head slightly, and there he is. Close. Towering. His jaw is tight, clean-shaven except for the faintest trace of stubble catching the edge of the light. There’s a tiredness around his eyes—subtle, buried deep—but he doesn’t blink. Doesn’t waver. He’s so still it’s unnerving.

He doesn’t seem to notice—or care—how near he is.

You, however, are all too aware.

Your voice tightens. “Is there a reason you couldn’t point this out without standing over me like I’m in your way?”

Zayne doesn’t flinch. “If I stood ten feet back, you’d still argue with me.”

You bristle. “Because I know what I’m doing.”

“And yet,” he replies coolly, “I’m the one correcting your data.”

That sting digs deep. You pull in a breath, clenching your fists subtly against the side of the console. You want to yell. But you won’t. Because he wants control, and you won’t give him that too.

He lowers his hand slowly, retracting from the display, and finally—finally—steps back. Just enough to let you breathe again.

But the tension? It lingers like static.

“I’ll correct the tag,” you say flatly.

Zayne nods once, then turns to go.

But at the doorway, he stops.

Without looking back, he adds, “You're capable. That’s why I expect better.”

Then he walks out.

Leaving you in the cold hum of the diagnostic lab, your pulse racing, your thoughts a snarl of frustration and something else—unsettling and electric—curling low in your gut.

You don’t know what that something is.

But you’re starting to suspect it won’t go away quietly.

You sit three seats from the end of the long chrome conference table, back straight, shoulders tight, fingers wrapped just a little too hard around your datapad.

The Surgical Briefing Room is too bright. It always is. Cold light from the ceiling plates bounces off polished surfaces, glass walls, and the brushed steel of the central console. A hologram hovers in the center of the room, slowly spinning: the reconstructed heart from this morning’s procedure, arteries lit in pulsing red and cyan.

You can feel sweat prickling at the nape of your neck under your uniform collar. Your scrubs are crisp, your hair pinned back precisely, your notes immaculate—but none of that matters when Dr. Myles Hanron speaks.

You’ve only spoken to him a few times. He’s been at Bell for twenty years. Stern. Respected. Impossible to argue with. Today, he's reviewing the recent cardiovascular procedure—the one you assisted under Zayne’s lead.

And something is off. He’s frowning at the scan display.

Then he looks at you.

“Explain this inconsistency in the anticoagulation log.”

You glance up, already feeling the slow roll of nausea in your stomach.

Your voice comes out measured, but your throat is dry. “I followed the automated-calibrated dosage curve based on intra-op vitals and confirmed with the automated log.”

Hanron raises a brow, his tablet casting a soft reflection on the lenses of his glasses. “Then you followed it wrong.”

The words hit like a slap across your face.

You feel the blood drain from your cheeks. Something sharp twists in your stomach.

“I—” you begin, mouth parting. You shift slightly in your seat, fingers tightening on the datapad in your lap, legs crossed too stiffly. Your body wants to shrink, but you force yourself not to move.

“Don’t interrupt,” Hanron snaps, before you can finish.

A few heads turn in your direction. One of the interns frowns, glancing at you with wide eyes. You stare straight ahead, trying to keep your breathing even, your spine straight, your jaw from visibly clenching.

Hanron paces two steps in front of the display. “You logged a 0.3 ml deviation on a patient with a known history of arrhythmic episodes. Are you unfamiliar with the case history? Or did you just not check?”

“I did check,” you say, quieter, trying to keep your tone professional. Your hands are starting to sweat. “The scan flagged it within range. I wasn’t improvising—”

“Then how did this discrepancy occur?” he presses. “Or are you suggesting the system is at fault?”

You flinch, slightly. You open your mouth to say something—to explain the terminal sync issue you noticed during the last vitals run—but your voice catches.

You’re a nurse.

You’re new.

So you sit there, every instinct in your body screaming to speak, to defend yourself—but you swallow it down.

You stare down at your datapad, the screen now blurred from the way your vision’s tunneling. You clench your teeth until your jaw aches.

You can’t speak up. Not without making it worse.

“Let this be a reminder,” Hanron says, turning his back to you as he scrolls through another projection, “that there is no room for guesswork in surgical prep. Especially not from auxiliary staff who feel the need to act above their training.”

Auxiliary.

The word burns.

You feel heat crawl up your chest. Your hands are shaking slightly. You grip your knees under the table to hide it.

And then—

“I signed off on that dosage.”

Zayne’s voice cuts clean through the air like a cold wire.

You turn your head sharply toward the door. He’s standing in the entrance, posture military-straight, coat half-unbuttoned, gloves tucked into his belt. His presence shifts the atmosphere instantly.

His black hair is perfectly combed back, not a strand out of place, glinting faintly under the sterile overhead lights. His silver-framed glasses sit low on the bridge of his nose, catching a brief reflection from the room’s data panels, but not enough to hide the expression in his eyes.

Hazel-green. Pale and piercing

He’s not looking at you. His gaze is fixed past you, locked on Hanron with unflinching intensity—like the man has just committed a fundamental breach of logic.

There’s not a wrinkle in his coat. Not a single misaligned button or loose thread. Even the gloves at his belt look placed, not shoved there. Zayne is, as always, polished. Meticulous. Icy.

But today—his expression is different.

His jaw is set tighter than usual. The faint crease between his brows is deeper. He looks like a man on the verge of unsheathing a scalpel, not for surgery—but for precision retaliation.

And when he speaks, his voice is calm. Controlled.

His face is unreadable. Voice flat.

“If there’s a problem with it, you can take it up with me.”

The silence in the room is instant. Tense. Airless.

Hanron turns slowly. “Doctor Zayne, this isn’t about—”

“It is,” Zayne replies, tone even sharper. “You’re implying a clinical error in my procedure. If you’re accusing her, then you’re accusing me. So let’s be clear.”

You can barely process it. Your heart is thudding, ears buzzing from the sudden shift in tone, from the weight of Zayne’s voice cutting through the tension like a scalpel. You look at him — really look — and for once, he isn’t focused on numbers or reports.

He’s solely focused on Hanron. And he is furious — not loudly, but in the way his voice doesn’t rise, his jaw locks, and his words slice like ice.

Just furious—in that cold, calculated way of his.

“She followed my instruction under direct supervision,” he says, voice steady. “The variance was intentional. Based on patient history and real-time rhythm response.”

He pauses just long enough to let the words land.

“It was correct.”

Hanron doesn’t respond right away.

His lips press into a thin line, face unreadable, and he shifts back a step—visibly checking himself in the silence Zayne has carved into the room like a scalpel.

“We’ll review the surgical logs,” Hanron mutters at last, voice clipped, his authority retreating behind procedure.

Zayne nods once. “Please do.”

Then, without fanfare, without another word, he steps forward—not toward the exit, but toward the table.

You track him with your eyes, unable to help it.

The low hum of the room resumes, like the air had been holding its breath. No one speaks. A few nurses drop their eyes back to their datapads. Pages turn. Screens flicker.

But you’re frozen in place, shoulders still tight, hands clenched in your lap to keep them from visibly shaking.

Zayne rounds the end of the table, his boots clicking softly against the metal flooring. His long coat sways with his movements, falling neatly behind him as he pulls out the seat directly across from you.

And sits.

Not at the head of the table. Not in some corner seat to observe.

Directly across from you.

He adjusts his glasses with two fingers, expression cool again, almost as if nothing happened. As if he didn’t just dress down a senior doctor in front of the entire room on your behalf.

He doesn’t look at you.

He opens the file on his datapad, stylus poised, reviewing the surgical results like this is any other debrief.

But you’re still staring.

You study the slight tension in his shoulders, the stillness in his hands, the way his eyes don’t drift—not toward Hanron, not toward you—locked entirely on the data as if that can contain whatever just happened.

You should say something.

Thank you.

But the words get stuck in your throat.

Your pulse is still unsteady, confusion mixing with the low thrum of heat behind your ribs. He didn’t need to defend you. He never steps into conflict like that, especially not for others—especially not for you.

You glance away first, eyes back on your screen, unable to ignore the twist in your gut.

The room empties, but you stay.

The echo of voices fades out with the hiss of the sliding doors. Just a few minutes ago, the surgical debrief room was bright with tension—every overhead light too sharp, the air too thin, the hum of holopanels and datapads a constant static in your head.

Now, it’s quiet. Still.

You sit for a moment longer, fingers resting on your lap, knuckles tight, back straight even though your entire body wants to collapse inward. You’re still warm from the flush of embarrassment, your pulse still flickering behind your ears.

Dr. Hanron’s words sting less now, dulled by the cool aftershock of what Zayne did.

He defended you.

You hadn’t expected it. Not from him.

You replay it in your head—his voice cutting in, his posture like stone, his eyes locked on Hanron like a scalpel ready to slice. He didn’t raise his voice. He didn’t even look at you.

But you felt it.

You felt the impact of what it meant.

And now, as you sit in the empty conference room—white walls, chrome-edged table, sterile quiet—you’re left with one burning thought:

You have to say something.

You rise slowly, brushing your palms down your thighs to wipe off the sweat that lingers there. You hesitate at the doorway. Your reflection stares back at you in the glass panel—eyes still a little wide, jaw tight, posture just a bit too stiff.

He didn’t have to defend you, but he did.

And that matters.

You step into the hallway.

It’s long and narrow, glowing with soft white overhead lights and lined with clear glass panels that reflect fragments of your movement as you walk. The hum of the ventilation system buzzes low and steady—comforting in its monotony. The air smells of antiseptic and the faint trace of ozone from high-oxygen surgical wards.

You spot him ahead, already halfway down the corridor, walking with purpose—long coat swaying slightly with each step, back straight, shoulders squared. Always composed. Always fast.

You hesitate. Your boots slow down and your throat tightens.

You want to turn back, to let it go, to pretend it was just professional courtesy. Nothing more. Nothing personal.

But you can’t.

Not this time.

You quicken your pace.

“Doctor Zayne!”

The name catches in the air, too loud in the quiet hallway. You flinch, just a little—but he stops.

You break into a small jog to catch up, boots tapping sharply against the tile. Your breath catches as you reach him.

Zayne turns toward you, expression unreadable, brows slightly furrowed in that ever-present, analytical way of his. The glow of the ceiling lights reflects off his silver-framed glasses, casting sharp highlights along the edges of his jaw.

He doesn’t say anything. Just waits.

You stop a foot away, heart thudding. You don’t know what you expected—maybe something colder. Maybe for him to ignore you entirely.

You swallow hard, eyes flicking up to meet his.

“I just…” Your voice is quieter now. Careful. “I wanted to say thank you.”

He doesn’t respond immediately. His gaze is steady. Measured.

“I don’t tolerate incompetence,” he says calmly. “That includes false accusations.”

You blink, taken off guard by the directness. It’s not warm. Not even particularly kind. But coming from him, it’s almost intimate.

Still, you can’t help yourself. “That wasn’t really about incompetence.”

“No,” he admits. “It wasn’t.”

The hallway feels smaller now, quieter. He’s watching you in full. Not scanning you like a chart, not calculating — watching. Still. Focused.

You nod slowly, grounding yourself in the moment. “Still. I needed to say it. Thank you.”

You’re suddenly aware of everything—of the warmth in your cheeks, of the way your hands twist at your sides, of how tall he stands compared to you, even when he’s not trying to intimidate.

And he isn’t. Not now.

If anything, he looks… still.

Not soft. Never that. But something quieter. Less armored.

“You handled yourself better than most would have,” he says after a moment. “Even if I hadn’t said anything, you didn’t lose control.”

“I didn’t feel in control,” you admit, a breath of nervous laughter escaping. “I was two seconds from either crying or throwing my datapad.”

That earns you something surprising—just the faintest twitch at the corner of his mouth. Almost a smile. But not quite.

“Neither would’ve been productive,” he says.

You roll your eyes slightly. “Thanks, Doctor Efficiency.”

His glasses catch the light again, but his expression doesn’t change.

You glance past him, down the corridor. “I should get back to my rotation.”

He nods once. “I’ll see you in the lab.”

You pause.

Then—because you don’t know what else to do—you offer a small, genuine smile.

“I’ll be there.”

As you turn to leave, you feel his eyes on your back.

[hellothisisangle]

This idea came from someone asking me about V’s internal organs and gastro/intestinal workings. I delved into a bit of bio/mechanical research that might make sense in the Cyberpunk world. Follow the jump below!

↓

SomaTek specializes in manufacturing synthetic organs designed to transcend our organic limitations.

SomaTek GastroPro™
In a world ravaged by toxic food chains, tainted water supplies, and unreliable agriculture, the GastroPro™ synthetic stomach- amply nicknamed “the iron gut”- is a feat of mechanical organ replacement. Capable of digesting virtually any hazardous or non-nutritive substance without harm, while mimicking and surpassing the core functions of a natural biological system.

The GastroPro™ environment utilizes a stabilized industrial-grade acidic solution (SomaTek’s trademarked confidential blend of fluorinated superacids exceeds the hydrochloric acid and pepsin present in an organic stomach) that is non-corrosive to internal components due to reactive smart hydrogel linings. This acid bath breaks down everything: from your home cooked dinner, to food past its expiration, to actual garbage- designed to adapt to a full range of ingested toxicity. After processing, the liquified matter proceeds to a secondary chamber which is programmed with enzymatic nano filters to separate and neutralize indigestible items versus actual processable materials. *Note that the GastroPro™ is incapable of operating in isolation. The following organic systems are required to be enhanced or replaced:

Esophagus (GastroLine™) is equipped with reinforced smart hydrogel lining to withstand both caustic substances and abrasive matter. Peristaltic actuators move matter regardless of shape or size, while micro-blade emulsifiers begin compacting particularly dense or fibrous materials. Anti-reflux valves prevent acid from backing up.

Liver, Pancreas, Gall Bladder (GastroTox™ Subsystem) further supports the GastroPro™ by processing even rarer or complex toxins, capable of converting them into an array of energy for the body dependent on specific inputs. For example: chemical, electrical, first and second generation biofuel, etc. (Optional but highly recommended)

Intestines & Appendix (GastroTract™) serves as the primary absorption and release unit. Lined with nutrient-binding nanites to extract usable calories, vitamins, minerals, or chemicals. Absorption channels direct these throughout the body via embedded villi structures to the bloodstream and lymphatic system. In users with further modifications, waste may be redirected to a bypass port location of their choosing. The most popular choice being via a urinary tract.

Oral Cavity (OraPro™ Subsystem) is a customizable sum of parts that further supports the GastroPro™ with an artificial tongue embedded with gustatory receptors, reinforced cheek/gum lining, and teeth strong as chrome. (Optional but highly recommended)

Brain Chemistry (CraveShard™) the neural implant designed to be installed into the cyberdeck to simulate, regulate, or even suppress cravings. (Optional but highly recommended) The user may override urges based on their schedule and preferences, as well as control serotonin and dopamine feedback. The implant works harmoniously with receptors built into the GastroPro™ to recognize the identity of consumed materials. It can even reproduce the effects caused by ingested alcohol, hallucinogenics, opioids, narcotics, etc.

Advantages over natural digestion include immunity to internal poisoning, pathogens, parasites, and contaminants. Zero indigestion, zero allergic reaction. Accelerated enzyme breakdown. And multi-source nutrition: users can derive sustenance from otherwise indigestible materials.

Please be aware the GastroPro™ is not without its complications. Over-reliance can result in malabsorption issues if the user abuses the capabilities of the GastroPro™. Care should be taken to continuously ingest products with beneficial properties. In the event of nutrient deficits, the user’s deck will receive periodic warnings regarding nutritional supplementation to prevent systemic decline. Psychosomatic disorders may also emerge as a result of losing sensory pleasure of consumption (“digestion dissonance'”- disconnect with satiety) if the recommended OraPro™ Subsystem and CraveShard™ are not installed.

Regular care encompasses monthly detox flushes, filter replacements, nanite reseeding, and pH rebalancing treatments. All of which can be accomplished via a doctor licensed to administer Somatek devices.

[crapeaucrapeau]

Mass Effect 2

I'm trying to keep track of what every major or semi-major political player is trying to do about the Reapers in 2185 before, during or after Shepard waltzes in, pirouettes into them then fucks off, and it's kinda mind-boggling.

Major players with their own agendas include but are not limited to :

the Reapers, who may or may not have been already traveling to the galaxy at this point, and are using their pawns - the Collectors - to siphon many humans to their base to get going on the baby-making. Beside assassinating Shepard in 2183 to one-shot an anti-Reaper coalition in its infancy, the Collectors are presumably prepping Omega for collecting (see also : Mordin's recruitment mission) and have contacts with at least one non-Reaper operative (the Shadow Broker) to facilitate their plans.

Cerberus, which has set up one operator cell to deal with the Collectors, and is completely reshuffling its structure to gear up for the incoming Reaperocalypse.

the Shadow Broker is aware of the incoming Reaperocalypse and is actively collaborating with the Collectors, though to what extent is unknown ; one thing we do know is that he uses an agent embedded in Cerberus (Wilson) to try to kill Shepard before they can be up and about. We also do not know how his manipulating of events behind the scenes is meant to benefit the Collectors/Reapers. Then the Shadow Broker gets replaced by Liara who leverages the exact same network and resources to do the exact opposite, preppin' the galaxy against the Reapers. EDIT : I should note that the yahg Shadow Broker planned to attack Cerberus in retaliation one year after Shepard's resurrection, and those plans included the assassination of the Illusive Man, the destruction of Cerberus as a whole, and, if possible, the recruitment of Miranda.

the Alliance itself is doing shit all to prepare against the Reapers because they don't believe it's a problem, but within the Alliance, Hackett is running an undisclosed number of operations to prepare them against the Reaperocalypse.

officially, the Citadel Council dismisses this "Reaperocalypse", but in reality they're very aware of that, presumably doing something about it off-screen, and not keeping some very important people in the loop, such as : Shepard, and seemingly Anderson and the Alliance as a whole.

Also not kept in the loop : the Turian Hierarchy, since they learn about the Reapers from Garrus' dad. Oops.

Actually in the loop : the STG, and presumably the Salarian Union as a whole, since Mordin has been authoring studies on indoctrination and the military has been developing stealth dreadnoughts.

The geth have quit their self-isolation and sent a unique platform past the Perseus Veil to ascertain what the hell is going on.

The geth heretics, meanwhile, have been losing the war against the Systems Alliance and reduced to sporadic offensives in three clusters, but they're preparing an indoctrination-like virus to take over the orthodox geth and add their numbers to their own to service the Reapers.

And these are just the players we know about. We have no idea what, if anything, the asari or the batarians are doing (or know) about the Reaperocalypse.

But that's just what everyone is doing about the Reapers. You've got massive political and strategic things gearing up on the side : we all know about the intense situation in the Migrant Fleet, but did you know the Blood Pack was setting up an invasion of Illium ?

[dostoyevsky-official]

“Treasury has been denying that they gave Marko write access, but I am looking at his access request right now”

So they have “read and write” access, or even “read only” access, why do we care? What are the possible consequences? 

1. Musk, Trump and their respective cronies have unrestricted access to your social security numbers, your confidential bank information, your confidential medical information and so much more. 

This is true with just “read only” access. This is why the burgeoning media war (that currently “read only” is winning unfortunately) is something of a red-herring. It matters, don’t get me wrong. As a source yesterday said, Apocalyptic. But that source also said that “read only” was “catastrophic”. If the smash and grab operation commences just as stupidly, quickly and dangerously as it has so far, this could easily become identity theft by an untold number of people using their personally identifiable information within weeks.

This kind of information can also be used to target enemies and, if they get operational control elsewhere, the capability of using the Anti-Money Laundering (AML), Know Your Customer (KYC), & the Combating the Finance of Terror (CFT) laws to target political enemies. Of course, these laws have already been used to target political dissidents; but we are talking about something of an incomprehensibly larger scale. As one long time payments lawyer wrote to me: “Is DOGE using its own, non-OFAC definition of ‘terrorist group’ that has no basis in law?” In this sense, the Democratic party has fully and unequivocally participated in building the apparatus that is showing to be extraordinarily easily weaponized against them. In short, they can not just steal money but eliminate the financial existence of anyone they felt like, if operational control gets sufficient. The week Trump won his second term, I told a room full of Democratic party operatives that “if the Democratic Party really believed Trump was a fascist, they would destroy the servers containing all the surveillance data.”

2. Creating “backdoors” into the Treasury’s multi-trillion dollar payment system

I’m running short on time (it's late at the time of writing) and I have to get up in the morning and be prepared for another round of intensive interviews so this will have to be more carefully detailed in the future. But these are extremely sensitive systems, and complicated systems. All the factors that slow them down in taking over the system are also the factors that would make it hard to find intentionally hidden code to their benefit that could give them ongoing access to the system even if they are removed. I need to do more reporting on this one but it is something many, many sources have mentioned

3. Subordinate the judicial system to the Trump Administration/DOGE

This one has been hard to get across to readers. As you can imagine, the overwhelming social media response to this reporting has focused on the absurd illegality of the actions. Asking for judicial intervention. But as I covered in my piece Friday, the constitution is not self enforcing and the supreme court is unlikely to step in, or to step in a positive way. In my Friday’s piece I unfortunately presciently asked:

As a famous twentieth century statesman might have said in this situation "...and how many divisions does the Constitution have?” 

What happens if they are just embedded so deeply in the heart of government payments that there is no mechanism to dislodge them? Court Injunctions are not self enforcing either My longtime payments lawyer source agrees with this point, which I also tried to articulate Monday:

Chokehold to stop or delay any and all payments initiated by federal agencies, and potential mechanical method to thwart judicial rulings when a judge/court says “You as the Executive Branch cannot stop federal grants/payments lawfully approved and directed by Congress.”

As we’ve seen, there are no armed law enforcement figures coming in to save the day and if Musk's DOGE get deep enough into the Bureau of the Fiscal Service, the only way to enforce the law is through street actions.

4. Elon Musk can use this system against his enemies.

It almost feels quant to say because the timeline of so many of the other possibilities are so immediately and dramatically dire that this one almost feels hopeful in comparison in that it implies “competitive position” being something that is very meaningful. Nevertheless, it should be obvious that this information, which includes information on all businesses the Federal Government does business with, is ripe to be used to kneecap competitors. Specifically my longtime payments lawyer source brought up just outright putting competitors on the “do not pay” list. The “good case scenario” may just be an economy increasingly dominated in all corners by Musk and/or Trump through a sprawling network of business ventures with the greatest possible advantages.

5. The New American Payments System, X the Everything App

For this one I am just going to quote my longtime payments lawyer source at length. They’ve got it and note this is a “read only” issue. Imagine the worst case of paying your taxes on X payments, or “receiving” your social security payments there.:

Obtaining access to and potentially exfiltrating data sets from BFS that may be characterized as “anonymized” (in order to evade criticism about potential violation of privacy laws), but could give insight into payment patterns and payment system strengths, weaknesses and behaviors:

1. Such information obtained on an inside track by DOGE would be very helpful, for example, if you are an entity like X Payments LLC and are currently licensed as a money transmitter in 42 states with plans to launch as-yet-to-be specified payments and financial services.

2. It is unclear whether there are any limitations on DOGE personnel transferring payment information to X Payments LLC in order for that company to gain proprietary information regarding federal payments in an anti-competitive manner compared to its fintech competitors currently in the marketplace.

3. Such single-sourced information not available to other market competitors would provide an anti-competitive jump for X Payments LLC on ApplePay, Google Pay, Samsung Pay (mobile wallets) and a host of other fintech companies in the marketplace backed by venture capital and private equity funding.

6. Ability to pick and choose who gets public money, regardless of congressional directives

I covered the constitutional aspects of this crisis Friday. The payment aspects I covered Monday. Without Judicial ability or willingness to sanction Trump & Musk, There is very little left of congress. The “power of the purse” is central to the rule and authority of congress. The decentralized (in relative terms) nature of administrative agencies means that there are enormous opportunities for agencies to follow the law. This is a place to skip past all those headaches.

7. Subordinate the judicial system to the Trump Administration/DOGE

This one has been hard to get across to readers. As you can imagine, the overwhelming social media response to this reporting has focused on the absurd illegality of the actions. Asking for judicial intervention. But as I covered in my piece Friday, the constitution is not self enforcing and the supreme court is unlikely to step in, or to step in a positive way. In my Friday’s piece I unfortunately presciently asked:

As a famous twentieth century statesman might have said in this situation "...and how many divisions does the Constitution have?” 

What happens if they are just embedded so deeply in the heart of government payments that there is no mechanism to dislodge them? Court Injunctions are not self enforcing either My longtime payments lawyer source agrees with this point, which I also tried to articulate Monday:

Chokehold to stop or delay any and all payments initiated by federal agencies, and potential mechanical method to thwart judicial rulings when a judge/court says “You as the Executive Branch cannot stop federal grants/payments lawfully approved and directed by Congress.”

As we’ve seen, there are no armed law enforcement figures coming in to save the day and if Musk's DOGE get deep enough into the Bureau of the Fiscal Service, the only way to enforce the law is through street actions.

8. Elon Musk can use this system against his enemies.

It almost feels quant to say because the timeline of so many of the other possibilities are so immediately and dramatically dire that this one almost feels hopeful in comparison in that it implies “competitive position” being something that is very meaningful. Nevertheless, it should be obvious that this information, which includes information on all businesses the Federal Government does business with, is ripe to be used to kneecap competitors. Specifically my longtime payments lawyer source brought up just outright putting competitors on the “do not pay” list. The “good case scenario” may just be an economy increasingly dominated in all corners by Musk and/or Trump through a sprawling network of business ventures with the greatest possible advantages.

9. The New American Payments System, X the Everything App

For this one I am just going to quote my longtime payments lawyer source at length. They’ve got it and note this is a “read only” issue. Imagine the worst case of paying your taxes on X payments, or “receiving” your social security payments there.:

Obtaining access to and potentially exfiltrating data sets from BFS that may be characterized as “anonymized” (in order to evade criticism about potential violation of privacy laws), but could give insight into payment patterns and payment system strengths, weaknesses and behaviors:

1. Such information obtained on an inside track by DOGE would be very helpful, for example, if you are an entity like X Payments LLC and are currently licensed as a money transmitter in 42 states with plans to launch as-yet-to-be specified payments and financial services.

2. It is unclear whether there are any limitations on DOGE personnel transferring payment information to X Payments LLC in order for that company to gain proprietary information regarding federal payments in an anti-competitive manner compared to its fintech competitors currently in the marketplace.

3. Such single-sourced information not available to other market competitors would provide an anti-competitive jump for X Payments LLC on ApplePay, Google Pay, Samsung Pay (mobile wallets) and a host of other fintech companies in the marketplace backed by venture capital and private equity funding.

10. Ability to pick and choose who gets public money, regardless of congressional directives

I covered the constitutional aspects of this crisis Friday. The payment aspects I covered Monday. Without Judicial ability or willingness to sanction Trump & Musk, There is very little left of congress. The “power of the purse” is central to the rule and authority of congress. The decentralized (in relative terms) nature of administrative agencies means that there are enormous opportunities for agencies to follow the law. This is a place to skip past all those headaches.

11. Catastrophic failure of the payments system.

Even a disruption for a day would be a disaster. A disruption on longer timescales would have unimaginable knock on effects. The Treasury could involuntarily default because of operational issues. The worst case scenarios, which are completely and utterly plausible at the time of writing, would be a catastrophe without precedent. No typical economic calamity like the Great Financial Crisis or even the Great Depression would be comparable.

[weeping-anguish]

Sedimental Value

Megatron vs. Paleontology

I just wanted to yap about fossils lmao and pun.

Part 1/4 Link

---

The battle had been fierce—briefly.

Optimus and Megatron had traded blows across the rocky slopes, scattering wildlife and triggering small landslides somewhere in the Appalachian Mountains.

“For once,” Megatron growled, “stay down, Prime!”

Optimus Prime landed with a heavy thud, shaking pine needles loose from the trees. Megatron followed, crashing through the canopy, fusion cannon flaring.

“This ends now, Prime!” Megatron snarled, charging with wild force.

Optimus sidestepped just in time.

CRUNCH .

Megatron pitched forward with a mechanical yelp as his foot caught something buried in the dirt. He tripped in glorious, undignified fashion and landed face-first into a rocky embankment.

CRACK. “GRAAAUGH!”

One clumsy misstep, one badly-placed foot, and the Warlord of Kaon was suddenly flailing—arms windmilling—before crashing into the side of a shale outcrop.

A boulder split in half.

Megatron lay there for a moment in stunned silence, then shoved himself upright with a snarl. “What in the pit—?!”

He looked down, half-expecting a landmine or a hidden Autobot trap.

Instead, he saw... a rock.

Optimus skidded to a halt, mid-leap. “...Are you alright?”

Megatron roared and shoved himself up. “WHO PUT THIS RIDICULOUS... LUMP OF ROCK IN MY PATH?!”

Optimus stepped over calmly, peering at the object Megatron had tripped on. Embedded in the earth was a large, spiral-shaped fossil.

The Prime paused mid-charge, optics flicking from Megatron to the object. Then his expression changed.

“Oh—oh, no way.” He stepped forward quickly, crouching beside the half-buried stone. “Is that a fossil?”

Megatron blinked. “A what?”

Optimus’s entire demeanor shifted, tension evaporating like mist in sunlight. “It’s a Brachiopod. Look at this—still partially embedded, but you can make out the hinge and the ridges across the shell. Perfect symmetry.” He brushed away some soil with careful fingers. “And the preservation? It’s Devonian. Has to be. This entire region used to be seabed over 400 million Earth years ago.”

Megatron blinked. “Prime. We are in the middle of a battle.”

Optimus continued excitedly monologuing.

Megatron just stared.

Optimus was... smiling.

His voice had gone light and enthusiastic, the way it never did during war. There was something unguarded in him—something Megatron hadn’t seen in millennia.

“You're monologuing about sea bugs,” Megatron said flatly.

But Optimus wasn’t listening anymore.

“This one likely lived anchored to the ocean floor, filtering particles from the water. And here it is—untouched for eons, until you stepped on it.” He chuckled softly. “Poor thing.”

Megatron grumbled and leaned on a nearby tree, rubbing his helm. “This was supposed to be a combat operation.”

Optimus didn’t even glance up. “Do you remember when I used to do this full-time? Study, document, preserve? I spent megacycles in the Hall of Records, cataloging ancient systems, reading about long-dead civilizations. Back then, nothing was more important to me than understanding the past.”

Megatron didn’t answer. Not right away.

But he did remember.

He remembered a younger Optimus—Orion Pax then—hovering over datacores and relics with the same reverence he now gave the little fossil. Megatron had walked those archives once, long before revolution burned away what they’d been. He’d argued with Orion about injustice and philosophy in the low-lit vaults beneath Iacon. They’d fought then too—verbally, eloquently. Earnestly.

“You were different then,” Megatron muttered, his voice low.

Optimus finally looked up.

“You talked about knowledge like it was sacred,” Megatron continued. “You wanted to build something with it. Something with me. Not—" he gestured vaguely at the broken trees and scorched earth, “—this.”

Optimus’s gaze softened. “I never stopped wanting that, Megatron.”

“I know.” He looked away. “That was the tragedy, wasn’t it?”

For a long moment, neither of them moved. The wind whispered through the trees, stirring branches and memories alike.

Optimus turned back to the fossil. “Do you ever miss it?”

“What?”

“The people we were before war turned us into this.”

“…Sometimes,” Megatron admitted. “But then I remember who I was forced to become.”

Silence again. Not tense—just... quiet.

Optimus stood and gently set the fossil back in the dirt, carefully packing soil around it.

“You’re preserving it?” Megatron asked incredulously.

“Of course. Some things are worth protecting.”

Megatron huffed. “You’ll never change.”

“Maybe not,” Optimus said. “But I still remember how to value something ancient and fragile.”

Megatron stared at him. “You’re talking about the rock, aren’t you?”

Optimus smiled faintly. “Mostly.”

Megatron shook his head, a reluctant smirk twitching at the corner of his mouth.

“You’re lucky I tripped on that thing,” he said. “Any longer and I might’ve hit you hard enough to shut you up.”

“You could try,” Optimus replied, tone amused. “But I’d probably start quoting paleontology terms while half delirious anyway.”

Megatron groaned. “I hate that I missed this part of you.”

Optimus tilted his head. “You didn’t miss it. It was always there. You just stopped listening.”

Megatron shook his head, rising. “I’m leaving before you start talking about trilobites.”

“I do love trilobites,” Optimus called after him as Megatron transformed and blasted off.

“You’re unbearable,” he called as he lifted off. “Tell your fossil goodbye for me.”

“I will,” Optimus said softly, watching him disappear into the sky.

He turned back to the ridge, brushing his hand once more over the ancient shell, then sat down beside it.

And for a while, he simply watched the wind move through the trees.

[esotericimagesforredpilledpeople]

In the late 1990s, Enron, the infamous energy giant, and MCI, the telecom titan, were secretly collaborating on a clandestine project codenamed "Chronos Ledger." The official narrative tells us Enron collapsed in 2001 due to accounting fraud, and MCI (then part of WorldCom) imploded in 2002 over similar financial shenanigans. But what if these collapses were a smokescreen? What if Enron and MCI were actually sacrificial pawns in a grand experiment to birth Bitcoin—a decentralized currency designed to destabilize global finance and usher in a new world order?

Here’s the story: Enron wasn’t just manipulating energy markets; it was funding a secret think tank of rogue mathematicians, cryptographers, and futurists embedded within MCI’s sprawling telecom infrastructure. Their goal? To create a digital currency that could operate beyond the reach of governments and banks. Enron’s off-the-books partnerships—like the ones that tanked its stock—were actually shell companies funneling billions into this project. MCI, with its vast network of fiber-optic cables and data centers, provided the technological backbone, secretly testing encrypted "proto-blockchain" transactions disguised as routine telecom data.

But why the dramatic collapses? Because the project was compromised. In 2001, a whistleblower—let’s call them "Satoshi Prime"—threatened to expose Chronos Ledger to the SEC. To protect the bigger plan, Enron and MCI’s leadership staged their own downfall, using cooked books as a convenient distraction. The core team went underground, taking with them the blueprints for what would later become Bitcoin.

Fast forward to 2008. The financial crisis hits, and a mysterious figure, Satoshi Nakamoto, releases the Bitcoin whitepaper. Coincidence? Hardly. Satoshi wasn’t one person but a collective—a cabal of former Enron execs, MCI engineers, and shadowy venture capitalists who’d been biding their time. The 2008 crash was their trigger: a chaotic moment to introduce Bitcoin as a "savior" currency, free from the corrupt systems they’d once propped up. The blockchain’s decentralized nature? A direct descendant of MCI’s encrypted data networks. Bitcoin’s energy-intensive mining? A twisted homage to Enron’s energy market manipulations.

But here’s where it gets truly wild: Chronos Ledger wasn’t just about money—it was about time. Enron and MCI had stumbled onto a fringe theory during their collaboration: that a sufficiently complex ledger, powered by quantum computing (secretly prototyped in MCI labs), could "timestamp" events across dimensions, effectively predicting—or even altering—future outcomes. Bitcoin’s blockchain was the public-facing piece of this puzzle, a distraction to keep the masses busy while the real tech evolved in secret. The halving cycles? A countdown to when the full system activates.

Today, the descendants of this conspiracy—hidden in plain sight among crypto whales and Silicon Valley elites—are quietly amassing Bitcoin not for profit, but to control the final activation of Chronos Ledger. When Bitcoin’s last block is mined (projected for 2140), they believe it’ll unlock a temporal feedback loop, resetting the global economy to 1999—pre-Enron collapse—giving them infinite do-overs to perfect their dominion. The Enron and MCI scandals? Just the first dominoes in a game of chance and power.

[blockverse-infotech]

IoT Development; A Complete Guide, on Bringing Devices from Idea to Implementation

In todays paced tech world, the Internet of Things (IoT) has emerged as a game changer transforming the way we engage with our environment. At Blockverse Infotech Solutions we recognize the power of devices providing customized solutions to bring ideas to life and seamlessly integrate them into the digital realm.

The Internet of Things (IoT) has evolved from a buzzword to an aspect of contemporary technology influencing various facets of our everyday routines. From homes and wearable gadgets to automation and healthcare systems IoT enables us to connect and empower ourselves like never before. However transitioning from conceptualization to implementation of solutions can be overwhelming without guidance.

Conceptualization marks the phase, in IoT development. It entails identifying the problem or opportunity that can be addressed through technology and envisioning how interconnected devices can improve efficiency, convenience or safety. At Blockverse Infotech Solutions we work closely with clients to brainstorm ideas grasp their needs and devise IoT solutions tailored specifically for them.

Once the concept is solidified, the development phase begins. This involves designing and prototyping IoT devices, selecting appropriate sensors and connectivity protocols, and developing the software infrastructure to collect, analyze, and act upon data generated by the devices. Our team of skilled developers and engineers at Blockverse Infotech Solutions leverages cutting-edge technologies to build robust and scalable IoT solutions that meet the highest standards of performance and reliability.

Testing and validation are integral parts of the development process, ensuring that IoT devices function as intended and deliver the desired outcomes. Through rigorous testing procedures and simulation environments, we identify and rectify any issues or vulnerabilities, ensuring that the deployed IoT solutions operate seamlessly in real-world scenarios.

Deployment marks the culmination of the IoT development journey, as the solutions are implemented and integrated into existing systems or environments. From device provisioning and network configuration to data management and security protocols, our experts at Blockverse Infotech Solutions handle every aspect of the deployment process with precision and care, ensuring a smooth transition from development to operation.

Post-deployment support and maintenance are essential for ensuring the long-term success and sustainability of IoT solutions. At Blockverse Infotech Solutions, we offer comprehensive support services, including monitoring, troubleshooting, and software updates, to keep IoT devices running smoothly and efficiently.

In conclusion, navigating the complex landscape of IoT development requires expertise, innovation, and a comprehensive understanding of the technology. With Blockverse Infotech Solutions providing tailored solutions for IoT devices, businesses and organizations can embark on their IoT journey with confidence, knowing that they have a trusted partner to guide them from concept to deployment and beyond.

[auspicioustidings]

Kinktober Day 0

This is the set-up for Kinktober which I'm doing as a linear narrative.

To be clear, there may be 3 or 4 chapters that don't actually have any kink and are just lil bits of fluff and we all agree to be chill about that.

Each chapter before the cut will have all info required on characters and kinks involved. If there is any non-con this will be in bright red but the instances of this will be few and brief as we are operating on a safe-word system and will have safety measures for if characters ignore safe-wording.

-

This must be what Will Smith’s character felt like at the start of Men In Black. What the hell were you doing here? There were a mix of genders in the room, but the one thing everyone seemed to have in common was confidence coming off of them in waves and that they didn’t look like you. They didn’t look like each other either, but they all looked more likely to have walked off of a modelling set than out of a military base.

You weren’t trained in psyops, but this seemed like it might be something in that department. Why else did so many of these candidates ooze beauty and authority? You shouldn’t bloody be here. The application had been secretive, a form slid over a desk from your superior officer who got it from his who got it from his in a chain with no obvious end. Someone had picked you out for this, and you were starting to think that wasn’t a good thing.

Were the people here higher up the chain than you or at the same level? You try to summon confidence, you’re not exactly some green private at their first training exercise. You’re special fucking forces. Yeah the monsters in the SAS or the SBS are out there slaughtering the bad guys, but they wouldn’t be doing shit without the Signal Regiment. You had to go through 25 weeks of hell to make it in. Just because you’re comms, doesn’t mean you didn’t have to prove conduct after capture or jump out of a damn aeroplane to pass training. And you had already served a year in infantry beforehand.

So you get over yourself and wait for further instructions. You have just as much right to be here as any of them.

The first tests go ahead. Fitness (you don’t fall last in the pack for performance, but you’re lower than the middle), gun handling (solidly middle of the pack), comms (you come first). It’s all suspiciously standard stuff. And then you are all put into an actual scenario.

You go into a room. It reeks of blood and sex and there are 3 people, one unconscious. The woman on the floor has a thick collar around her neck and is in scant lingerie that has very clearly been torn for access. There are bruises littering her body, rope marks embedded into her skin. The two conscious people are a man and a woman. She is screaming at the group to shoot him.

He’s told to get on his knees as the bulk of the group assess him as the bigger threat. You ignore them and go to gently check on the woman on the floor along with another candidate, trusting that the rest will subdue both current threats.

“These marks are pretty consistent with BSDM, not prolonged abuse. And the collar has an emergency quick release they’d be able to operate themselves if they had to” the other candidate says.

You immediately get your own gun trained to the other woman when you glance up and see her totally free from any restraint and in close range to one of the other candidates, a protest coming from one of the men who has went to comfort her.

“Put your gun down, you’re scaring her” he hisses.

“Until we have further information on what is happening here, all suspects should be treated as hostile and questioned.”

You don’t know if you got it right, but it seems wildly irresponsible to just decide that the big man must be the bad guy but she is definitely innocent. Mostly it’s just a strange scenario you’ve been put in, but in the field there can’t be trust for strangers. It’s not a courthouse, everyone is assumed hostile until there is proof to the contrary.

It isn’t resolved, you are all just told the exercise is over. One by one candidates are called into an office until it’s only you left. You’re absently wondering if you want to make ramen for dinner tonight when you are called in. The sinking feeling that you are in over your head hits you full force. You know one of the two people in this room.

Captain John Price, SAS. You’ve spoken with him before (well you’ve rattled off intel to him through a radio before) and you are well aware he is not to be fucked with.

“What did you think of the exercise then?” he asks, both him and the woman sitting behind the desk openly staring at you like predators with their eyes on a tasty morsel.

“I’m not sure what was being tested sir. I reacted as my training encouraged sir.”

“At ease, soldier. A real answer” the woman says and you squash back a reaction to the American accent.

Your shoulders loosen off. It’s not like you applied for whatever this is, so it isn’t any great loss if they’re about to kick you out. You’ve got ramen to get to, another quiet night at home alone to either enjoy or feel bitterly lonely about. It’s a toss up these days which mood will strike when the lack of warmth starts to bite.

“Most of your candidates need to be sent back to basic. They worked on baseless assumptions rather than taking control of the scene and figuring out what had happened once any danger was subdued. That woman could have killed two of them and taken a third hostage in seconds.”

“I agree” the woman says with a smug little smile, “British forces aren’t what they used to be.”

Price laughs.

“Your yanks would have done far worse. You made the right call. The woman on the floor was in a consensual relationship with the man, the marks were received willingly. But since there’d be no way of knowing, both of the threats needed to be removed. Questioning would have sorted out the truth.”

It was a weird fucking exercise to use. What were they testing with that kind of scenario? Implicit gender bias? But then why the kinky angle when they could have removed the casualty entirely and it served the same purpose? The whole thing was starting to make your skin itch as a folder was put on the table in front of you. You caught a nod from the woman and opened it, feeling like you were about to throw up.

“What is this?”

“Insurance. You break NDA and it’s not a court that’s going to crucify you” Price said, almost cheerily as you looked at photos of yourself.

One of them was taken of you sleeping in bed. The next the camera turned to have you in the background in bed while Price took a selfie barely inches from you, smiling for the camera as if he had any right to be there. More photos. Most of you, but some of loved ones. There is a flash of an image in your head, your last moment being the panic of waking up with a wire around your neck. You wouldn’t have broken NDA, but the overkill makes you unbearably curious. How bad is what they are recruiting for if they have to kill anyone who leaks it?

“I understand sir.”

The woman tilted her head as if you had said something interesting. Did the others react badly you wonder? The thing about being special forces signal regiment was that the lengths that the military would go to didn’t surprise you anymore. They created monsters to fight monsters and hid them away in the dark while they paraded out their nice, proper soldiers for the public. Good family men in uniform, advocates for mental health, veterans who were revered as heroes. The special forces were not those men. Captain John Price was certainly not one of those men.

Did you sometimes find it hard to sleep at night? Of course, you helped those monsters even when the line between good and evil was so thoroughly crossed that you wanted to scream at the world and never stop. But without them? Without them everybody would know exactly how cruel people could be because there would be nothing stopping them.

“This is the Kennel” the woman said as a screen behind her came to life.

The schematics were insane the more you drank them in. Underground bunker, recreational facilities and what seemed to be apartments. You would think it would be some rich person’s doomsday bunker if not for the layers of security. The apartments were locked down tight, there were guard posts and an ungodly amount of surveillance. Nobody was getting out of there if these people didn’t want them to.

You had seen plenty of prisons from high end to metal cages in caves. It was your job to get intel, to guide people through rescue missions or escapes. But this was something else.

“You want to build a luxury secure facility?” you asked, feeling the furrow in your brow and the incessant itching of your skin.

The woman clicked a button and the screen changed. Holy shit, they didn’t want to build it because it had already been built. Where the fuck was this? This was big and it must have costs billions, how on earth had you never heard of it? It wasn’t exactly some dingy black site.

“We need them, but this job twists people. Some of them can still keep it under control at home, some just need to stay immediately after a deployment to calm down. There are 6 full time residents right now. Got 5 part timers and 5 who visit when they need. Not all on our side of things.”

“There are tangos in there?”

“Officially nobody is in there, the Kennel doesn’t exist. Unofficially? It’s Switzerland. A rabid dog will bite whoever you point it to.”

You wanted to be outraged, but was this really so different from all the other foul things you knew happened in the background? A luxury blacksite holding the “good” guys and the “bad” guys alike who couldn’t be trusted out in public but who were needed to unleash upon the enemy. This was so fucked up but you imagined that the military did 5 equally as fucked up things before breakfast.

“What is this job exactly?”

Price crossed his arms and rocked back on his heels, staring you down and making you feel tiny in that chair.

“Sometimes the best place you can be to keep the world safe is on your back.”

“Excuse me?”

He was not implying what you thought he was surely. It was just unfortunate phrasing.

“Just an expression, I imagine only a few of them would want you on your back. Think at least half would enjoy you on your knees.”

You held his stare, determined to wait him out. He was fucking with you. This was some bizarre test and you had no idea how you were supposed to respond.

“He’s asking you to play bitch for his dogs soldier. They get out of hand when they can’t rut” the woman said as if that cleared things up.

“I didn’t figure out anything about the whole BDSM thing or whatever it was during that exercise. It was the other guy. I don’t do any of that stuff.”

They ignored you.

“It’s a month-long contract to see if it improves their behaviour. After that you are free to do whatever you want with a shiny promotion and enough money that you can retire to Hawaii with a glowing record and military honours if you’d prefer” the woman started.

“All you have to do is take whatever they want to give you. No safewords, you can’t stop it once you start” Price finished.

“No.”

“Not even going to consider the offer?” Price asked, almost eager.

“I’m not considering an offer that actively puts me in an unsafe situation with no way to get out.”

“Told you Kate.”

You wanted to be out of this fucking office already. You thought about what previous attempts might have looked like. Sex workers who were thrown in with monsters and torn to shreds. Maybe ones who begged to leave but got assassinated the moment they got home and started talking. Because this wasn’t sex work, it was a military operation. A civilian was never going to survive that situation, not with the kind of monsters you imagined the Kennel held.

“You know why the soldier who knew all about BDSM failed?” Price asked, closer than you remembered him being. “He said yes. Agreed to the terms. I’ve got no time for someone who can’t take care of themselves and is going to get eaten alive within the first 24 hours because they were too eager to please to say no. They try break you? You safeword and I come in and break them.”

There was something in the back of your mind somewhere that found the offer grotesquely appealing. You thought it unlikely they would take you once you told them you were a virgin. It just sort of happened, you didn’t know how to meet people and you were now at an age where the pressure felt insurmountable. Did you tell that to someone on a first date? Did you not tell them and they go too hard and hurt you? What if you couldn’t even do it properly?

This would be work. This would be a military operation that allowed assets to be used rather than put down if it was successful. You’d be getting used, but maybe you wouldn’t be lonely.

It was the negotiations that did you in. The warm hand of Price on your shoulder while he explained aftercare procedure. Some of them would do it themselves, but some they’d probably need to drag off of you and then Price himself would take over. If he wasn’t available for any reason, Kate would.

They framed it like it was a heroic pursuit. These people were broken, they needed someone to start patching up the cracks. Your virginity it transpired was an asset given that they knew just the person who would look after you for your first session. Someone in the Kennel had a sizable virginity kink and you were assured it was one of the part-timers who wasn’t prone to extreme violence the way the residents were. You’d get an info pack with details the day before.

The final nail in the coffin that had you signing the dotted line was Price (deliberately you realised quickly once you got a moment to breathe) mentioning Soap. You knew him. Not in person, but you had talked him through diffusing a bomb before. He had flirted up a storm and his warmth over that radio even when he was seconds from dying at any given point had stuck with you for weeks. It was only a month. You just had to do this for a month.

October 1st you would lose your virginity in a bunker that didn’t exist to a soldier you didn’t know, one who needed you to stop them from fully becoming a monster. Fuck.

[reality-detective]

BOMBSHELL: APRIL 8, 2025 — SUPREME COURT SIDES WITH TRUMP, BLOCKS 16,000 DEEP STATE REHIRES

The Supreme Court just dealt a fatal blow to the Deep State. In a 6–3 ruling, the Court sided with President Trump, reversing a California judge’s order to reinstate 16,000 “probationary” federal employees — the very operatives embedded to sabotage Trump’s return.

THE SHADOW ARMY JUST GOT VAPORIZED.

These weren’t harmless clerks. These were sleeper agents, injected into federal agencies during Biden’s collapse — a last-ditch firewall meant to resist Trump from within.

But the Supreme Court just pulled the plug.

They’re gone. And they’re never coming back.

This isn’t just paperwork. It’s war.

And the battlefield just tilted hard in Trump’s favor.

DEEP STATE LOSES ITS LAST HUMAN SHIELD

That California judge tried to freeze Trump’s purge under the illusion of “workforce protection.” But the Supreme Court didn’t blink. They upheld Trump’s constitutional authority to fire federal employees — especially the unvetted infiltrators posing as probationary hires.

The ruling wasn’t legal housekeeping — it was a wrecking ball through the permanent state.

THIS ISN’T A COURT CASE — IT’S A COUNTEROFFENSIVE

This is part of something bigger. The digital war on bureaucracy is here.

Elon Musk knows it. Trump’s allies know it. The Doge Army knows it.

They’ve had enough of bloated government, censorship, fake regulations, and hostile sabotage of America First innovation.

The swamp is being drained by force.

THE JUDICIAL COUP HAS BEEN EXPOSED

For years, activist judges have hijacked courts to block Trump and shield their regime.

Now the mask is off. The Supreme Court just declared: We’re not your puppets.

This isn’t just a win — it’s a strike against a corrupted judiciary that thought it could operate above the Constitution.

IMPEACHMENT JUST GOT REAL

Now the House GOP has new firepower.

Multiple Republicans are signaling impeachment proceedings against judges who violated the Constitution to stall Trump.

This is no longer political theory. It’s a tactical operation.

The judicial coup didn’t just fail — it got marked for takedown.

THE RESET HAS BEGUN

April 8, 2025: The day the Deep State got burned.

Trump is dismantling their firewall. One institution at a time.

The 16,000 embeds? Blocked.

The rogue judge? Discredited.

The system of sabotage? Malfunctioning.

This isn’t the end. It’s another strike. 🤔