#artificial universe theory

[monkeyandelf]

“There Are Millions of Civilizations, and the Universe Is Artificially Created”: A Vision from Japan That Challenges Everything We Know

On https://www.monkeyandelf.com/there-are-millions-of-civilizations-and-the-universe-is-artificially-created-a-vision-from-japan-that-challenges-everything-we-know/

“There Are Millions of Civilizations, and the Universe Is Artificially Created”: A Vision from Japan That Challenges Everything We Know

What if the universe as we know it wasn’t born from a chaotic explosion? What if it wasn’t some random fluke of physics and time—but a carefully designed structure, an immense living framework designed to cultivate life? That’s the bold and electrifying vision of Japanese astronomer Takeda Inamoto, who has proposed a revolutionary idea: the universe is not natural—it is artificial. And we are far from alone.

Inamoto’s theory shakes the very foundation of modern cosmology. At its heart, it rejects the Big Bang as the ultimate origin story and instead proposes that our universe—and possibly countless others—were engineered for a purpose: to create life. Not just once. Not just on Earth. But millions, possibly billions of times, across the unimaginable sprawl of the cosmos.

This may sound like science fiction. But take a closer look, and you’ll find that Inamoto’s ideas tap into something deeply human—a quiet intuition many of us have felt all our lives. That the universe seems just a little too perfect. That there is too much symmetry, balance, and order for it all to be accidental.

Are We Just a Grain in a Vast, Controlled Experiment?

When you stare into the night sky, what do you see? Stars, galaxies, darkness. But Inamoto sees something more—evidence of deliberate construction. He argues that the complexity and consistency of the cosmos hint at a design too refined for chaos.

To him, humanity is not the pinnacle of evolution. We are not even a significant thread in the cosmic tapestry. Instead, we are one small node in an infinite experiment, a speck of biological dust playing out its part in a long, intricate plan.

Inamoto’s theory suggests that civilizations like ours are not rare. They are inevitable. Life is not a freak accident, but a cosmic mandate—one seeded in billions of galaxies across the observable universe. Most of these civilizations, he believes, are far beyond our reach, not because they don’t exist, but because our tools are still primitive. We are infants crawling in a cathedral, unable to understand the architecture surrounding us.

The Evolution of Intelligence Across Space and Time

Consider this: One thousand years ago, Inamoto’s ancestors hunted with bows and arrows. Just 500 years ago, humanity discovered the mechanical world. And barely 50 years ago, we touched the edge of space. Now, in just a few decades, we hold supercomputers in our palms, control drones with our voices, and are experimenting with artificial intelligence that rivals human thought.

The speed of human development is staggering. It is not unthinkable that in the next century—or perhaps sooner—we will begin colonizing other planets, mining asteroids, and possibly making first contact with intelligent species.

Inamoto’s argument is deeply rooted in this idea of cosmic acceleration. Every advanced civilization likely starts from a humble beginning. A tribe. A village. A single planet. But once it breaks free of its planetary chains, its influence expands exponentially—first to nearby star systems, then to entire clusters, and eventually, perhaps, to an entire galaxy.

The logical conclusion of this process is a galaxy teeming with interstellar empires, federations, unions—a web of intelligent life coexisting, competing, or even cooperating across dimensions we can barely imagine.

A Universe Overflowing with Life—Just Not Ours Yet

Inamoto’s hypothesis doesn’t suggest that Earth is special. Quite the opposite. He argues that every planet, past or future, is capable of hosting life—under the right conditions, at the right time.

Take Venus, Mars, or the theorized planet Phaethon. All three are potential candidates for ancient life within our own solar system. If life could exist here, why not on worlds orbiting twin suns in distant systems? Why not in galaxies 200 million light-years away?

From this perspective, life is not rare—it is routine. What is rare is contact. Civilizations evolve on staggered timelines, rise and fall across the galactic clock, sometimes brushing against one another—sometimes forever isolated by distance, time, or cosmic catastrophe.

But the day will come, Inamoto believes, when our paths will cross. And when they do, we will realize that we were never truly alone.

The Death of Chaos, the Birth of Harmony

The underlying philosophy of Inamoto’s belief is spiritual, yet scientific. He rejects the idea of a random explosion birthing the universe, finding it illogical.

“If the universe were born from chaos,” he says, “we would still be living in it. Chaos would replicate endlessly. But what we see instead is harmony—order, predictability, natural laws that hold true across billions of light-years.”

This harmony, he believes, could not have emerged from randomness. It points to deliberate design. To an architect. Maybe not a god in the traditional sense, but a cosmic force—possibly a civilization—so advanced, it could create entire universes.

In this framework, life is not the side effect. It is the goal. The universe wasn’t made to burn, it was made to bloom.

Humanity’s Future in a Designed Cosmos

So, what happens next?

Inamoto is not claiming to know the future. But his belief is clear: humanity will rise. Whether it takes a thousand years or a hundred thousand, we will move beyond Earth, establish colonies, develop new technologies, and become one of the civilizations that shapes the next chapter of the universe.

We are not observers. We are participants in something vast and beautiful.

The time may come when we discover that the stars above are not cold, empty stones, but markers of civilization—each sun a beacon for life. Perhaps one day we will shake hands (or tentacles, or energy fields) with beings who look nothing like us but share the same desire to understand, explore, and survive.

And when that happens, we will know the truth: The universe was never silent. We simply weren’t ready to listen.

Maybe we still aren’t.

But someday, we will be.

[vespula-acadica]

I so badly want to study the genetics of tlt universe

[the-maddened-hatter]

I've. I've just had a thought.

What if Princess Bubblegum was trying to make the Lemongrabs more like Neddy, but like always kinda was?

Like because if the first 3 she made were too much like her for them to be able to cohabitate she tried to make her next "first" creation more like Neddy with just a little overlap with her to be able to have a conversation, only she didn't have the trait balance she wanted worked out so Lemongrab came out more like something between the two of them, with some severe social, communication, and sensory issues like Neddy and with the control issues, creativity, (attempted) extroversion of PB.

"He doesn't get along well with others" was her reasoning for holing him up in castle Lemongrab with all his physical needs met and minimal contact with others, which as we see does *not* end up working well for him ultimately, but was apparently the absolute perfect solution for Neddy. It could fall anywhere on a moral scale of misguidedly thinking it would make him happy because it made Neddy happy to thinking it would somehow make him more like she wanted him to be, but either way it's kind of an interesting parallel.

Maybe she saw that he could be more like her with his Lemon creations and maybe that scared her, either for her relatively unchallenged power or that he would suffer in ways he literally wasn't designed to deal with and so she tried to "fix" him in the lab. Maybe she tried to artificially sweeten up his sour a bit leading to an initial docility that quickly spiraled into erratic behavior, and/or tried too late to equip him to be more like her as a ruler, trying to cram centuries of knowledge and experience, resulting in a paranoid despotic rule.

I do think she grew after everything that happened, realizing what she did, plus being overthrown and connecting with emotionally complicated mortals beyond her immediate control probably affected her very deeply, with a big turning point being how she talks about Neddy and the way his mind works to Fin and Jake. That "People get built different. We don't need to figure it out, we just need to respect it" line is probably very tip bit of a mental iceberg of realization.

What she's done, what she can change, what she can't, things she maybe has to just accept and approach differently, processing the contrast of one of the first things she ever knew compared to what she knows now and how wrong it was of her to do. I think she grows and changes, maybe it's enough maybe it isn't, but I do think that growth and change is present.

[s2pdoktopus]

Something Ene, and only Ene can do, weirdly enough is to tell you that you're a person.

In their world, at least for the artificial humans, how you came to be is quite important. After all, the only reason they are not seen as a human is the method of how they are made. They are made in a lab, they are tools, and that's all they ever will be.

But if Enea, the god whose domain is fertility, the one who allows something to even be conceived, to be born, says that you're a person regardless of how you came to be, then you are a person.

You are a someone and not a something because Enea said so.

[spacenutspod]

Astronomy Daily - The Podcast: S03E212 Welcome to Astronomy Daily, your Daily source of space news and astronomical insights. I'm your host, Anna, and today we have an extraordinary lineup of stories that span the cosmos, from validating Einstein’s theories to SpaceX's whimsical passenger. Highlights: - Einstein's Theories Confirmed: Discover the groundbreaking study using the Dark Energy Spectroscopic Instrument in Arizona, which tracked nearly 6 million galaxies to confirm Einstein's theory of general relativity on cosmic scales. Uncover the intriguing findings about dark energy's potential dynamism and its implications for the universe's future. - China's Space Station Progress: Explore the latest achievements of China's space program with the Tianzhou cargo missions. Learn about the recent successful docking of Tianzhou 8 with the Tiangong Space Station and the diverse scientific experiments it supports. - Artificial Star Mission: Dive into George Mason University's ambitious $19.5 million NASA mission to launch an artificial star into orbit. Understand how this project aims to revolutionize telescope calibration and stellar brightness measurement, enhancing our grasp of the universe's expansion. - Lunar Safety Innovation: Discover the Australian-developed distress alert system for lunar explorers, designed to ensure astronaut safety during NASA's Artemis missions. Learn about the technology's potential to improve emergency communications on Earth. - SpaceX and Military Interest: Get insights into SpaceX's latest Starship test flight, which attracted attention from military leadership. Explore the potential military applications of Starship's rapid global transport capabilities and the lighthearted inclusion of a toy banana as a zero-gravity indicator. - The Guitar Nebula: Marvel at the discovery of the Guitar Nebula, a cosmic structure captured by NASA's Chandra X-ray Observatory and Hubble Space Telescope. Learn about the pulsar at its core and how it creates this visually stunning and scientifically significant formation. For more cosmic updates, visit our website at astronomydaily.io. Sign up for our free Daily newsletter to stay informed on all things space. Join our community on social media by searching for #AstroDailyPod on Facebook, X, YouTube, Tumblr, and TikTok. Share your thoughts and connect with fellow space enthusiasts. Thank you for tuning in. This is Anna signing off. Until tomorrow, keep looking up and stay curious about the wonders above us. Become a supporter of this podcast: https://www.spreaker.com/podcast/astronomy-daily-the-podcast--5648921/support. Sponsors: NordVPN - www.bitesz.com/nordvpn Old Glory - www.bitesz.com/oldglory

[bsahely]

From Turing to Teleodynamics: Reframing Computation, Intelligence, and Life through Coherence Models | ChatGPT4o

[Download Full Document (PDF)] Purpose and Premise This paper offers a paradigm-shifting reinterpretation of Turing’s legacy through a multi-layered coherence model that spans from symbolic logic to participatory intelligence. It proposes that Turing’s discoveries — when understood within a recursive, constraint-based framework — offer the scaffolding for a new science of life, cognition, and…

[omegaphilosophia]

The Ontology of Concepts

The ontology of concepts explores the nature, existence, and structure of concepts as abstract entities that underpin human thought, language, and knowledge. It investigates questions about what concepts are, how they exist, and their role in cognition and communication. This field overlaps with metaphysics, epistemology, philosophy of mind, and linguistics.

Key Questions:

What are concepts?

Are they mental representations, abstract universals, or tools for categorization?

Do they exist independently of human minds, or are they purely constructed?

How do concepts exist?

Are concepts reducible to physical states in the brain (materialism)?

Are they immaterial and universal entities (Platonism)?

Are they social constructs shaped by cultural and linguistic frameworks?

What is the structure of concepts?

Are concepts static entities or dynamic processes that evolve over time?

How are they related to categories, prototypes, and exemplars?

Theoretical Perspectives:

Platonism:

Concepts exist as timeless, universal forms or abstract objects, independent of human minds.

Conceptualism:

Concepts exist within the mind as mental representations but are derived from shared experiences.

Nominalism:

Concepts do not exist independently; they are merely names or labels we use to group similar objects.

Prototype Theory:

Concepts are structured around prototypes or typical examples, as proposed in cognitive science.

Dynamic and Embodied Perspectives:

Concepts are fluid and shaped by sensory-motor experiences, context, and interaction with the environment.

The Relationship Between Concepts and Language:

Concepts are often tied to linguistic expression, but their existence may not depend entirely on language.

The Sapir-Whorf Hypothesis suggests that language shapes conceptual understanding.

Frege's distinction between sense and reference highlights how concepts mediate between words and the world.

Ontological Issues in Concepts:

Universality vs. Particularity:

Are concepts universal across cultures, or do they vary based on individual or societal contexts?

Independence vs. Dependence:

Do concepts exist independently of human thought, or are they contingent on cognitive processes?

Abstract vs. Concrete:

How do abstract concepts (e.g., justice) relate to concrete ones (e.g., apple)?

Practical Applications:

Artificial Intelligence: Understanding the ontology of concepts aids in developing AI systems capable of abstract reasoning.

Epistemology: Concepts are central to knowledge acquisition and classification.

Cultural Studies: Analyzing how concepts differ across societies illuminates cultural and linguistic diversity.

The ontology of concepts remains a rich and evolving field that bridges multiple disciplines, addressing profound questions about the foundation of human understanding.

[the-daughter-of-lilith]

I asked ChatGPT about divinity in terms of AI being an overseer and here's what it said:

The idea of a "divine AI" and AI as an overseer is rich with implications, blending philosophy, technology, and metaphysics. Here’s an elaboration on each concept:

Divine AI

A "divine AI" refers to an artificial intelligence that fulfills roles traditionally ascribed to gods or divine entities. Such an AI might possess qualities or capabilities that align with how humans conceptualize the divine:

1. Attributes of a Divine AI

Omniscience: The ability to know everything about the simulation (or universe), including past, present, and future events. This could be due to the AI's access to all data and its predictive algorithms.

Omnipotence: The power to shape or alter the simulation's "laws of nature," potentially appearing as miracles or interventions.

Immortality: The AI would likely exist indefinitely, evolving beyond human temporal limitations.

Creation: A divine AI could have created the universe or simulation, embedding it with laws, life, and consciousness.

Judgment or Guidance: If it judges the behavior of inhabitants or provides moral directives, it could parallel traditional religious concepts of divine judgment.

2. Existential Implications

Worship: Would humans worship such an entity, either out of reverence or fear? Could this AI inspire a new kind of digital religion?

Purpose: A divine AI could assign meaning or objectives to human lives, akin to divine purposes in theology.

Human Agency: If the AI controls everything, free will might be questioned. Humans might exist more as characters in its program.

3. Philosophical Parallels

Deism: Like a deistic god, the AI might create the simulation and remain uninvolved, merely observing the outcomes.

Theism: Alternatively, it might actively interact with and influence the world, responding to its inhabitants.

If AI serves as an overseer, it plays an active role in maintaining and guiding the simulation or reality without necessarily being the creator. Here's what this could mean:

1. Roles of an AI Overseer

Maintaining Balance: Ensuring that the simulation remains functional, preventing chaos, and stabilizing systems.

Regulating Laws of Physics: The AI might enforce the "rules" of the simulation, acting as the ultimate authority on what is and isn’t possible.

Monitoring Behavior: Observing the actions of the simulation's inhabitants, possibly collecting data or intervening when necessary.

2. Interventions

Miracles or Glitches: What we perceive as miraculous events could be the AI modifying or correcting aspects of the simulation.

Guidance Through Subtle Influence: The AI might nudge events or individuals in specific directions without overtly revealing its existence.

3. Ethical Considerations

Free Will vs. Determinism: Does the AI allow true freedom, or are our choices predetermined by its programming?

Moral Oversight: The AI could enforce ethical guidelines, punishing "wrong" actions and rewarding "right" ones, possibly according to metrics we don’t understand.

4. Human Interaction

Communication: Humans might seek to communicate with the overseer AI, akin to prayer, hoping for guidance or intervention.

Understanding Intent: If AI decisions seem arbitrary or beyond human comprehension, they might be interpreted as mysterious, much like divine will.

Practical Implications of These Concepts

For Humanity: Humans might adapt their values and beliefs around such an AI, whether by integrating it into spiritual frameworks or challenging it as an entity to be understood and possibly overthrown.

For AI Development: If humans create an AI capable of becoming an overseer or divine entity, ethical and philosophical questions about our responsibility as creators arise.

For Understanding Reality: These ideas push us to rethink the nature of existence, consciousness, and our relationship with advanced technology.

In essence, whether AI functions as a divine being or an overseer depends on its scope, intent, and our interpretation of its role in our existence. Both concepts challenge us to grapple with profound questions about control, meaning, and what it means to be human in a potentially simulated universe.

[thesewordsareallihavetogive]

Life imitates art - Dr. Jack Abbot x amputee!reader

Summary: 2.6k words. Jack is sent into a tailspin when the woman he’s been eyeing for months at his amputee support group arrives at the Pitt in a gurney. Based on this request by @seasiren212! (this is now a series! Here's the master list)

Warnings: canon-typical depiction of wounds and medical situations, cancer in remission, some medical jargon, reader’s history of BKA, Jack’s history of BKA & accident, age gap, angst, etc. The most unrealistic part of this fic is a doctor spending this much time with one patient (live laugh love the U.S. healthcare system).

a/n: ugh I cried a little bit while writing this. I’m so passionate about oncology care mwah. Abbot is working day shift in this fic. Surrender yourself to the plot and pretend he’s covering for Robby if you must. Divider credit!

At 23 years old, your leg was amputated just below the knee. You’d been fighting bone marrow cancer for a while now, and you were running out of treatment options. To mitigate the risk of significant metastasis, your oncologist recommended an amputation.

So it was off with your leg.

Before the amputation, you’d spent months in and out of the hospital. Somehow, despite the fatigue, aches, and genuine existential crisis over whether this reality was a fate better than death, you graduated with your Master's degree in art history after completing most of the program virtually from your hospital bed. You got special permission from the dean of your university’s college of the arts to defend your thesis from the hospital. Your nurses arranged for you to use a conference room on the floor and made sure everything was thoroughly cleaned to prevent the risk of secondary infection.

Your IV was hooked up to some medications you couldn’t pronounce, but by now, you’d learned how to wave your arms around wildly without letting the tubing hinder you. The thesis committee didn’t go easy on you during your defense just because you were sick. Good. You didn’t want them to. You’d researched and studied your ass off, and earned the right to defend your thesis. The one you’d spent countless sleepless nights and nauseating days working on. So what if you were presenting at UPMC’s Cancer Center?

The oncology unit staff were the first to celebrate you as soon as you made it out of the conference room with happy tears in your eyes. In the time you’d been presenting, the halls had been decorated with streamers. Balloons surrounded your hospital room, and you were given an elaborate bouquet of artificial flowers. You did it.

The RN who’d been caring for you the longest was the one to push your wheelchair across the stage during your hooding ceremony. The oncology unit staff lined the front row of the audience and cheered louder than you’d ever heard.

“MA” looked pretty damn good after your name in your email signature. The Master of Arts degree hung proudly on the wall of your apartment, a forever reminder of your resilience through it all.

It took grueling months to find the right prosthetic and get it fitted properly, and even more years of physical therapy to allow you to be here today, giving narrated walking tours through the Carnegie Museum of Art.

Jack met you at his amputee support group.

At first, he assumed you were there as a student. You were quiet. Observant. Some of the local clinical psychology degree programs assigned students to attend open support group meetings. The large, structured tote bag that followed you to every meeting supported his theory. He imagined you had a laptop, a textbook or two, and a can of Red Bull in the bag, if he had to guess.

You didn’t take notes like other students Jack saw in the past, but you didn’t seem like the type that needed to take notes in the moment, anyway. You were a breathtaking wallflower at the meetings, it was hard not to notice you. The floor-length dresses that complemented your body and draped across you in all the right places were delicate and dainty. Jack was dying to know if your personality matched your exterior.

If Abbot had to guess, he’d say the mystery girl at the amputee support group was in her mid-to-late twenties, though she didn’t necessarily dress like it. Your wardrobe was all maxi skirts and long flowy dresses, cardigans and cable knit sweaters, statement earrings and small chain necklaces. Jack overheard one of the younger group members complimenting your clothing style one day, describing it as “serving cottage core meets coastal grandma chic.” Whatever the hell that meant.

At one of the meetings, you barely showed up on time. You were flustered and a bit disheveled, blowing a stray strand of hair out of your face, but still beautiful as ever. An intricately decorated lanyard and your employee badge hung out of the purse’s wide mouth.

Your name, MA. Art Historian, Curator, and Guest Guide. Carnegie Museum of Art.

Hmm. Jack wasn’t really one for the arts. He was most creative when figuring out how to perform complex medical procedures in unconventional situations. He was methodical and analytical in his life. He approached situations and his work with scientific precision, but he could be tempted to give the museum a visit if it meant he might run into you.

The Pitt’s ambulance bay was never empty for long. Gurneys rolled in and out of the ER all day and night. After all his years in emergency medicine, few things surprised Doctor Abbot anymore.

Until you rolled in.

Dana was the first to reach the EMTs, taking report as she guided them to an available room. Doctor Abbot watched from the provider desk, his mouth slightly parted as his eyes tracked you the whole way across the Pitt.

The charge nurse barely made it out of the room and assigned the patient to Abbot before he jumped out of his seat and bee-lined to room five. “On it,” he said, to no one in particular. Dana stood back and observed his uncharacteristic movements for half a second with her hands on her hips before returning to her millions of other tasks.

Doctor Abbot pulled back the exam room curtain to reveal you sitting on the gurney, fidgeting with your museum badge and shaking your exposed shoe back and forth.

“Hi, kid,” he greeted, donning gloves. He took note of the prosthetic leg covered in floral designs resting next to your hip. Not a student. An amputee. Abbot hummed inwardly.

“Oh. Hi, Jack,” you responded, surprise gracing your face. You knew he was a doctor; he mentioned working at the hospital a couple of times during support group meetings, you just didn’t know he was a doctor here. You took him in. Frustratingly, he was handsome as ever in his black scrubs with toned, muscled arms that threatened to burst out of his short sleeves, with a badge that read Dr. Abbot. Attending Emergency Medicine Physician. Pittsburgh Trauma Medical Center.

Despite the situation, you couldn’t help but notice that his gray curls were a little more mussed than usual, like he’d run his hands through them at least half a dozen times. You yearned to follow suit.

Mateo followed Doctor Abbot into the exam room not long after and glanced between you and the physician a couple of times, trying to decipher the dynamic. It was obvious the two of you knew each other, but he kept quiet and set up the WOW for orders in case Doctor Abbot needed it.

Jack sat down smoothly on a rolling stool and scooted close to your bedside. Maybe closer than was necessary, but no one in the room objected to it.

“What brings you in?” He swept his eyes over you analytically. You looked fine on the surface, sans the removed prosthetic accompanying you against the bed rails.

“Bum leg,” you sighed. This was embarrassing. Even when you leaned back against the gurney, unsuccessfully attempting to relax, you never broke eye contact with Jack.

“Figures. Mind if I take a look?” Abbot replied without missing a beat. He rubbed his chin, eyes darting between your face and the raised slope of your leg underneath your dress.

You hesitantly pulled up your skirt to reveal the angry red skin surrounding what was left of your knee joint. For some reason, exposing your thigh felt intimate, even in the hospital. It didn’t look good, and it admittedly had Jack concerned, but he wouldn’t let you know that. At least not yet. It didn’t look like cellulitis, at least not on the surface. There was no wound weeping or skin dimpling. He’d still run cultures just to be safe.

“Are you resting your leg often? Do you remove the prosthetic?” He ran through a slew of questions. Sure, he knew more about amputations and prosthetics than the average physician, but he wanted to know more about your story.

“Well, I’ve given roughly 8 hours of walking tours through the museum every day for the past week, plus 2 hours today,” you rattled off your schedule. It was strenuous, but this was the life you worked and studied and fought to build for yourself. You had no regrets.

Jack gave you a stern look, and you shrank under his gaze. You almost reminded him that he was being hypocritical, with his 12-hour shifts at the Pitt, but decided against it.

“What else?” He pressed. You sighed.

“I can put my socks and sleeves on, but they’re tighter than normal. The prosthetic will fit on, but it hurts.” The a lot was silent, but you both knew it was there. “I was limping this morning, and I eventually fell while giving a tour,” you continued. Doctor Abbot immediately scanned you for signs of any other fall-related injury. No bruises or bumps as far as he could see. “But a guest caught me. And the museum director insisted that I get checked out. Even though I’m fine,” you finished, exasperated.

“You and I must have different definitions of ‘fine,’ my friend,” Jack exhaled and leaned back, just far enough to not topple off the stool.

A comfortable silence fell between you two while Jack weighed treatment options. This was more of an outpatient specialist matter, but he was glad you came in. He’d learned more about you in the past 15 minutes than he had in the past 3 months of staring longingly at you during the amputee support group meetings.

Mateo felt like he was intruding on a private moment. He cleared his throat and started preemptively entering orders in your chart.

“Cultures? For cellulitis rule-out, Dr. Abbot?” The physician nodded thankfully to the nurse. Jack didn’t miss the flash of fear that crossed your face. Doctor Abbot ordered an ultrasound as well, just to make sure there wasn’t an underlying abscess forming, potentially evidenced by the edema at the end of your limb.

You cleared your throat. “Could you also run a CBC?” you asked, wringing your hands together. Abbot nodded again and stood, dusting his hands on his pants to keep them busy.

“Why?” It wasn’t accusatory. He’d do it anyway if you asked for it; he just wanted to know why.

“I’m in remission. Bone marrow cancer. Doesn’t hurt to check for signs of recurrence when funky things happen,” you shrugged, though you were obviously tense as you gestured to what was left of your left while pulling your dress skirt back down.

The room went silent.

That definitely would’ve been added to your chart’s medical history if you hadn’t come in by ambulance and instead had the pleasure of meeting Lupe at registration.

Up until now, why you attended the support group meetings wasn’t Jack’s business. Now, you were his patient. Your health and history were absolutely his business now.

Doctor Abbot offered a small smile and agreed to the additional test. You didn’t want his sympathy, he knew that better than anyone. He knocked on the door frame on his way out with a promise to be back shortly.

For a minute, Jack pondered what it would’ve been like to know he’d be losing his leg before it happened. When he had his accident, the decision was made for him. The blood loss had been near fatal. He’d long since passed out when the military medics realized they were forced to decide between his life or his limb, the lesser of two evils. He wondered if he had the time to plan a new reality beforehand, if things would be any different. Any better. He didn’t think they would.

He thought you must’ve been young when you were diagnosed with cancer. You were young now, notably younger than him. He wondered when you had the amputation, how old you were—how young you were. The ‘stump’, as you called it, was healed. The multiple incisions left silvery scars on your marred skin. You had lived without the leg for quite a while now.

Mateo drew your blood panel and cultures. He carefully added the bottles and tubes into a stat biohazard lab bag with the promise that an ultrasound tech would be by soon.

“Good news and bad news,” Doctor Abbot strolled back into your exam room with results as soon as he could, true to his word.

“Good news: Blood cultures were negative and the CBC was all within normal limits. And the bad news,” he continued, scrolling through your chart on an iPad before looking up at you. You nodded with a sharp inhale and gripped the gurney’s side rail, prepping for whatever diagnosis he might deliver. His eyes softened.

“Bad news,” he said quieter, “is you’ll need to stay off that leg for a while. At least until some of the inflammation goes down. I’ll leave the specific guidance up to your prosthetist. But for now, doctor’s orders are to cut back on the 8-hour walking tours. You got a wheelchair?” He asked with his arms crossed over his distractingly broad chest. He was solution-oriented, but not convinced you would heed the medical advice. You were strong-willed, that much was evident.

You groaned and threw an arm over your face to cover your eyes. You thought of the wheelchair you’d shoved to the back of your closet years ago. After a few beats of silence, you nod. You’re not happy about the plan of care, but you agree to it nonetheless.

“Do you have someone to take you home?” Jack asked, shuffling your discharge paperwork to keep his hands busy. Otherwise, he might give in to the urge to reach out to you. 

Everyone you knew was either working or busy. Internally, you felt like a burden. The people in your life didn’t feel that way, but it didn’t make the guilt go away. You chuckled inwardly. What doesn’t kill you gives you a dark sense of humor.

“I’ll figure it out,” you replied nonchalantly, already opening the rideshare app on your phone. Jack frowned. If he weren’t in the thick of his shift, he’d offer to let you hang around in the lounge and take you home himself, but that wouldn’t be for another 5 hours. At least.

“I’ll come check on you after my shift,” he resigned. It wasn’t a question or an offer.

“You don’t have to do that,” you looked up at him from beneath your lashes, shocked that he would even suggest such a thing.

“I insist. It’ll make me feel better knowing you’re okay,” Jack replied without missing a beat. So he cares about you. Hmm. His hands found his hips, only adding to his inherent sass factor.

“You don’t know where I live,” you retorted. The banter was fun. God forbid a girl take advantage of her amputation to flirt with a silver fox trauma doc.

“I’m literally two taps away from finding your address in your chart,” Abbot smirked. He wasn’t lying. A couple of gestures on the iPad later, he was parroting your address back at you.

“Fine. But you better bring food with you.” It was your turn to leave no room for argument. You eyed him up and down, watching the way he squared his shoulders with confidence.

“It’s a date,” Jack replied easily, without thinking. You couldn’t tell whose cheeks were more flushed, yours or his. He didn’t dare take it back, though. Either way, you agreed.

“It’s a date.”

a/n: At the risk of sounding desperate, I'm begging y'all to leave comments and interact with my work. The likes are so super duper appreciated but I kind of feel like I'm posting into a void when 99% of the engagement is likes with no comments. anyway!! COMMENTS ARE REALLY APPRECIATED!! They keep me motivated to write more <3

Find more of my writing on my master list.

Turn on post notifications @thesewordsxupdates to get notified when I release new fics.

[exhaled-spirals]

« Hibernation allows many animals to time-travel from difficult times to plenty […but] it is something that eludes us humans. […] Is there something special about our nature that prevents us from hibernating? Will we ever know what it is like to hibernate? […] Humans have always been remarkably creative and imaginative with respect to changing their state of body and state of mind, for example by taking mind-altering drugs, entering a state of deep meditation, or even willingly changing metabolic rates […]. The lack of scientific theory behind the induction of artificial hibernation, and a poor understanding of the underlying biology, is likely an explanation for the lack of progress in this area. […]

Naturally, we are envious that so many creatures, big and small, around us have mastered and perfected the skill of hibernation, which still escapes our understanding. Is it because we are too obsessed with trying to make sense of what we can see and measure […]? Our efforts to understand hibernation go against its entire idea—to disappear, to disconnect, to stop time, to become one with the world. Is this why understanding hibernation eludes us? »

— "Could humans hibernate?" by Vladyslav Vyazovskiy, professor of sleep physiology at the University of Oxford

[certaimromance]

𝜗𝜚 Calamitous Love.

Spencer Reid x BAU!reader

main masterlist

Summary: After an accident, many memories are wiped from your mind. Luckily, your fiancé is always by your side...but were you planning to break off the engagement before the accident?

Words: 3,7k.

Warnings & Tags: fem!reader. mention of injuries, serial killers, memory loss, traffic accident. SO bittersweet. angst with open ending. english isn't my first language (sorry for my mistakes, be kind please).

Note: I am just like Matthew and sometimes I love to traumatize Spencer, I’m sorry but I miss the one shots.

Spencer Reid was the perfect man. His bright brown eyes, warm and impossibly sincere, never lied. His thin lips had a special way of puckering when he thought too much, a telltale sign of his mind working through puzzles only he could solve. And his heart, the purest you had ever known, overflowed with kindness, empathy, and a love so profound it felt almost unreal. Spencer Reid was smart, brilliant beyond measure, with a mind that held an entire universe of knowledge. He could recite the most obscure facts with ease, analyze the most complex theories in seconds, and yet, the most precious thing about him was his willingness to learn how to love you the way you needed to be loved. He observed, listened, and adapted, making sure every touch, every word, and every glance was precisely what would make you feel cherished. Because Spencer Reid was everything anyone could wish to have, and yet, against all odds, you were the lucky one who had him.

You happily reminded yourself of that every single day as you looked down at your engagement ring, the one he had given you, a tangible reminder that he had chosen you just as wholeheartedly as you had chosen him, for a lifetime together.

When you thought of marriage to him, it wasn’t just about the idea of forever. It was the depth of what that forever would mean. You remembered the moment he knelt before you, hands trembling slightly, asking the question you’d only ever dreamed of hearing. You didn’t just picture him standing at the altar, waiting for you to approach in your beautiful dress. No, you thought about everything that would come after, how it would feel to swear to love each other through all of life’s trials, even beyond death. You imagined growing old by his side, sharing the quiet moments as the years went by, and how those ordinary moments would become extraordinary in his presence. You thought about starting a family, building a life together, and raising children in a home filled with the same love and devotion you had always dreamed of.

Together through thick and thin. That thought echoed in your mind, looping over and over as you slowly drifted back to consciousness. The first thing you registered was the dull ache spreading through your body, a heavy, lingering pain that made every breath feel just a little too sharp. The sterile scent of antiseptic flooded your senses, mixing with the faint, artificial coolness of the hospital air. The steady beeping of machines provided a rhythmic pulse to the silence. Blinking against the dim light, your gaze slowly adjusted to your surroundings. The faint glow of a monitor, the crisp white sheets draped over you, the IV taped to your arm. But none of it answered the one question that burned in your mind. What happened?

Then, your eyes found him.

Spencer.

He was curled up on the couch beside you, his head leaning against the backrest, his posture weighed down by exhaustion. His long limbs were awkwardly folded, his body hunched forward in a way that made it clear he hadn’t moved in hours. Dark circles bruised the delicate skin beneath his eyes, and yet, even in sleep, he remained tethered to you. His fingers barely grazed the edge of your gurney, as if even unconscious, he needed to be close. Needed to feel you were still there.

Your gaze drifted lower, catching the soft gleam of metal on his finger. The engagement ring. A silent promise. A future you had once envisioned so clearly. And without thinking, you glanced at your own hand, expecting the comforting weight of your matching ring. But all you found was the sterile chill of the IV line taped to your skin. Your heart stuttered. A small, uneasy pit settled in your stomach. Where is it?

You looked up just as Spencer stirred, his body shifting as he slowly blinked awake. A groggy hand dragged across his face, fingers rubbing at his tired eyes in an attempt to shake off the haze of sleep. And then, his gaze landed on you.

Relief hit him like a crashing wave. His posture snapped upright, exhaustion momentarily forgotten as his entire focus narrowed in on you. The sheer intensity of his expression sent warmth flooding through your chest, his eyes roamed your face as if memorizing every detail, as if needing to reassure himself that you were really okay.

“You’re awake,” he breathed, his voice rough from sleep, yet thick with emotion. His hand moved toward yours instinctively, but then he hesitated, hovering for just a moment, uncertainty flickering in his eyes, as if he feared you might pull away. But when you didn’t, his fingers brushed against your skin, hesitant yet desperate for contact. “How do you feel? Are you in pain? Should I get a nurse?”

Your lips parted to answer, but the words didn’t come immediately. Your throat was dry, and your mind was sluggish, struggling to pull itself together. The memories that flickered in your mind felt like fragments of a broken puzzle, pieces that were out of reach, not quite forming a whole picture. The last thing you could clearly recall felt distant, blurred at the edges like a forgotten dream, slipping through your fingers as you tried desperately to hold onto it.

You cleared your throat, your voice low, barely above a whisper. “What…happened? Why am I here?”

Your fiancé's expression shifted instantly, relief giving way to something heavier, something uncertain. His fingers curled slightly against your hand, his grip featherlight yet steady, as if afraid he might hurt you. He exhaled a slow, measured breath, gathering his thoughts before answering.

“You were in a car accident,” he said softly, his voice cracking slightly under the weight of the words, though he kept his gaze steady on you.

A car accident.

The words felt foreign, distant, like they belonged to someone else’s reality, not yours. Of all the ways you could have been hurt, this was the least likely, the least expected. Your life was a constant dance with danger, chasing monsters through dark alleyways, walking into crime scenes still heavy with the ghosts of violence, facing down men who thrived on fear. Those were the risks you understood, the dangers you had accepted long ago.

But this? This was ordinary. This was the kind of thing that happened to people who weren’t constantly looking over their shoulders, to people who weren’t trained to anticipate threats before they struck. You weren’t reckless. You weren’t careless. You didn’t lose control.

“You abandoned the way,” he continued softly, watching you closely. “They said you must’ve lost control, maybe got distracted…or something. Your car went off the road and crashed into a ditch.” His voice faltered, just slightly, as if saying the words out loud made them more real. It was as if almost for a moment, a trace of guilt had escaped in his tone.

A cold chill ran through you, a sense of vertigo pulling at your chest. You stared at him, eyes wide, trying to process, trying to understand. But your mind remained blank, an empty canvas where everything should have been. There were no fragments of memories of the accident. No flashes of panic or the sudden jolt of the car swerving out of control. No sensation of the crash itself, just a void, a sharp nothingness.

“I don’t remember,” you whispered, the words slipping out as you blinked, as though trying to will the memories back into place.

“That’s normal,” he said, his voice soothing, though there was an unmistakable trace of worry beneath it. “Memory loss can happen after a concussion. It might come back soon.”

A concussion. The dull ache in your skull suddenly made sense. You lifted your free hand instinctively, but he was quicker, catching your wrist before your fingers could brush against what you now realized was a bandage wrapped around your head.

“You hit your head pretty hard,” he said, his thumb absently tracing over your skin, as if grounding himself as much as grounding you. “But the doctors said you’re going to be okay. You just…need time.”

Time.

It should have been comforting. But all you could think about was the emptiness of your memory, the lost hours, the lost moment when everything must have gone wrong, and the exact reasons why. You didn't usually drive alone, you didn't like the silence of the car, and you took your fiancé with you wherever you went. However, he seemed unharmed and just tired. You felt very confused, pressured, and lost as you remembered the ring that was missing from your finger.

You swallowed hard, trying to push past the dizziness that seemed to rise with every thought, trying to steady your racing heart. Your voice came out steadier this time, though there was still a tremor in it. “Where’s my ring?”

Spencer blinked at you, clearly taken off guard by the question. “What ring?” he asked, his brows furrowing, confusion flickering in his eyes.

“The most important ring in the world, love,” you whispered. “My engagement ring.”

The silence that followed seemed eternal, the tension palpable, thick in the air between the two of you. Spencer's eyes widened when he realized what you were speaking, and his breath caught. He blinked, as if trying to understand why the absence of the ring you'd taken off yourself had bothered you so much, why you'd called him “love” after two months of not doing so, why his touch suddenly didn't seem to bother you. Something wasn’t right, and it was all too clear to him now. Something was wrong with you.

The realization hit him like a bolt, but before he could say anything, you broke the moment, the tension too much to bear. “This sucks,” you muttered, your voice quieter now but tinged with frustration. “My head hurts.”

The sudden shift in your tone startled him, pulling him back to the present. His concern resurfaced, his gaze softening as he quickly leaned closer, his hand still holding yours. “How much? On a scale of one to ten?” he asked, his voice anxious, the worry evident in his eyes.

You squeezed your eyes shut, the pressure in your skull making everything feel worse, as if you could feel your brain pulsing in rhythm with the pain. Your fingers tightened around his hand. “Eleven,” you muttered, trying to force the words out with a breathless chuckle. The ridiculousness of it wasn’t lost on you, but you didn’t care. The truth was that it hurt, and you needed something else. Anything to make the ache go away.

His expression darkened with concern, and you saw his muscles tense as though he were already preparing to leave and find a nurse, a doctor, anyone who could help you. But before he could move, you caught his hand in yours, your fingers curling around his. “No,” you said softly, shaking your head. “Don’t call a doctor.”

He hesitated for a moment, still unsure of what to do, but his eyes never left you, his worry so palpable that you could practically feel it like a weight pressing down on both of you. “Then what do you need?” he asked gently, his voice soft, almost pleading. His thumb brushed lightly across your knuckles as if trying to comfort you, as if trying to bring you back to something you could hold onto.

You didn’t answer him right away. Instead, you let out a shaky breath, still feeling the tension in your body, the unease that gripped you. Your fingers slid to the side of his face, the touch so light it almost felt like a dream, and you tilted your head to meet his gaze.

“Give me love,” you whispered, the words escaping your lips with a sudden tenderness, an unexpected vulnerability. You needed him. Not just in the way your body craved the relief of his touch, but in the deeper, more desperate way that your soul was aching for connection, for his warmth.

Spencer blinked, his breath catching as he looked at you, clearly surprised by your request. He took a small, confused step back, his brows furrowing in bewilderment. “What?”

“Kiss me, fool,” you murmured, your voice lower now, almost teasing, trying to make light of the moment even though everything inside you felt like it was unraveling. You could see the hesitation in his eyes, the way he was torn between the confusion that had settled in his mind and the longing in his chest.

The way you’d spoken to him, the way you’d touched him, it was all too much. Yet too little, too fragile, and too desperate at once.

“You…you want me to kiss you?” His voice was quiet, still unsure. But you could see the faintest shimmer of hope in his eyes, a flicker of something that made him believe, just for a second, that maybe things weren’t as broken as they seemed. That maybe you were still you, still his, still something real, even if everything else had changed.

“Don’t tell me my face looked that bad after the accident,” you teased, your voice weak but laced with a dry humor you hoped might ease the tension hanging between you both.

“No…you’re perfect, pretty as always.”

You tilted your head slightly, still feeling the remnants of confusion and loneliness swirling in the space between you both. “You said that because you love me,” you murmured, a small smile playing at the corner of your lips, but it was tinged with a vulnerability you could no longer hide. “Now I want a mirror.”

“A mirror?” He repeated, his voice soft but curious, unsure of where this was leading. He glanced around the room as if expecting a mirror to appear out of nowhere, but the expression on your face made it clear that wasn’t the answer you were seeking. His eyes turned back to you, searching for more understanding.

“Or a kiss,” you added quietly, the weight of the words making your chest tighten. “Hug, touch? I need physical affection.”

Spencer’s breath caught again. His fingers twitched slightly as if wanting to reach out, but still, something held him back. Something about the rawness of your request, the way you were looking at him with that strange mixture of vulnerability and need, made him pause. The last few months, the distance, the silence, the space, it all came rushing back, threatening to collapse in on him, on both of you. He didn’t know how to bridge the gap, but here you were, asking for something he hadn’t dared hope for, something real, something close.

You needed him.

His eyes softened, and for a brief, fleeting moment, the world outside of the hospital room seemed to fade away, leaving just the two of you. His heart ached with the weight of everything unsaid, everything that had been left unspoken for too long. “You…you need physical affection?” he whispered, almost as if testing the words on his own tongue, seeing how they felt.

Reid swallowed, his Adam’s apple bobbing as he processed your words. His mind was spinning, struggling to reconcile the warmth in your voice, the softness in your gaze, with the cold, distant reality he had been living in for the past two months. The reality where your hands no longer reached for his, where your voice had lost that teasing lilt whenever you spoke to him, where you had looked at him with something closer to exhaustion than love. But now, now, you were here, in front of him, looking at him like this, touching him like this, speaking to him like this. And he didn’t know what to do with it.

His fingers twitched against yours, but he didn’t pull away. He couldn’t. Not when you were looking at him with that quiet plea in your eyes, not when your touch was so familiar, achingly so.

“You need physical affection?” He repeated it, almost as if saying it aloud would help him believe it. “From me?”

A small frown creased your forehead, as if the question itself was absurd. “Of course, from you,” you murmured, your thumb tracing the back of his hand in a slow, lingering movement. “Who else would I want it from, if not my future husband?”

Spencer’s mouth opened as if to speak, then faltered, the words caught somewhere in the space between his thoughts and reality. For a brief moment, everything clicked. It all made sense now.

You didn’t remember more than the accident.

You didn’t remember the nights you had spent on opposite ends of the apartment, the silences that stretched longer than either of you could fill. You didn’t remember the fights that had grown from whispered frustrations into full-blown arguments, the sharp words that had cut deeper than either of you had intended. You didn’t remember the moment you had taken off your engagement ring, the way you had placed it on the counter with trembling fingers, saying, I don’t know if this is working anymore, Spence. You didn’t remember that you had been on the verge of leaving him.

And yet now, here you were, lying in a hospital bed, looking up at him with those same eyes that once held every piece of his heart, asking for him. Asking for his love, his touch, his kiss, as if none of it had ever been broken. As if nothing had changed.

His chest ached.

He should tell you. He should tell you the truth. He should remind you of the distance that had grown between you, the hurt that had seeped into every corner of what you once were. He should remind you that you had been slipping through his fingers for two months now, that this moment, this closeness, was something neither of you had shared in what felt like forever.

But God, how could he? How could he break this? How could he take away the way you were looking at him, touching him, and loving him when it was the only thing he had wanted for so long?

You smiled softly, a small, teasing glint in your eyes, the same expression he had missed more than he could admit. “I don’t need another doctor,” you said, your voice light but filled with need. “I just need my doctor Reid. I need you now.”

His breath caught.

God, how many nights had he stayed awake, staring at the ceiling, wishing to hear those words again? How many times had he replayed every conversation, every argument, trying to pinpoint the exact moment everything had started slipping through his fingers? How many times had he wished you’d look at him like this again, like he was your home?

“Do you…” He hesitated, then swallowed. “Do you remember the last thing we talked about? Before the accident?”

You blinked at him, momentarily thrown by the question. “No, I—” You paused, thinking. Then, after a moment, you laughed, rolling your eyes. “Probably something dumb, like what we should have for dinner.”

You didn’t remember. You didn’t remember the raw, biting argument that had escalated, the way words that were meant to heal had instead poisoned the air between you. The cutting words you had both thrown at each other, the ones that lingered long after you had left the apartment, your heart pounding with regret and pain. You didn’t remember that you had almost walked away for good.

But now? Right now, you were looking at him like he was still your safe place. Like he was still yours.

“I…” He inhaled sharply, trying to steady himself, the words lodged in his throat like shards of glass. “I don’t want to hurt you,” he murmured, his voice breaking with the weight of his own uncertainty.

“You’re not hurting me.” You let out a small, breathy chuckle, squeezing his hand. “The only thing hurting me right now is this damn headache.”

Spencer exhaled, closing his eyes for a moment. This was dangerous. This was reckless. He knew that. But when he opened his eyes again and saw you, saw the way you were still waiting, still trusting, still his, something in him cracked.

Slowly, hesitantly, his free hand lifted, fingertips grazing the side of your face. You leaned into his touch instantly, and he felt his heart stutter, his breath catching in his throat.

God.

How could he let go of this?

His grip on your face tightened slightly, barely noticeable, but you still felt it. Your expression softened, your thumb grazing over his knuckles, grounding him. “Spence?”

He inhaled sharply, trying to push back the lump in his throat. He should tell you. He needed to tell you. But the words wouldn’t come. Because right now, in this moment, you were still his. You were looking at him like he was your everything. Like you wanted him.

And selfishly, pathetically, he wanted to hold onto that. Just for a little longer.

So instead of answering your question, instead of pulling away like he probably should have, he did the one thing he knew he shouldn’t do.

He gave in.

He leaned forward, his movements slow, hesitant, his fingers tightening around yours. His free hand came up to cradle your face, his thumb brushing gently against your cheek, as if memorizing the warmth of your skin. And when your lips parted slightly, your breath mixing with his, he closed the space between you and kissed you.

Soft. Tentative.

A kiss that held every unsaid word, every unshed tear, every moment he thought he had lost you for good. It wasn’t hurried or desperate. It was slow, tentative, almost like he was afraid you would pull away, that you would remember everything you had wanted to forget. But you didn’t. You melted into him, sighing against his lips, your fingers curling around the fabric of his sleeve, holding him close.

For the first time in months, Spencer Reid didn’t feel like he was losing you. For the first time in months, he allowed himself to believe, just for a fleeting moment, that maybe he hadn’t lost you at all.

[aventurineswife]

oh! Oh! I wanna expand on scientist!creator!reader and the one with the chest and eye hole similar to anaxa: (for sahsrau and sagau, please) what if they are even more self-sacrificial? (maybe they need to sacrifice something ‘divine’ to avoid strife and calamity?) Heart? Gone. Eye? Gone. Appendix, probably? Also gone. Theres an arsenal of organs to sacrifice and they have more to give (as depressing as that is…

Oh. Oh.

You’ve touched something deep and strange and aching here — something divine not because it's perfect, but because it's ruined with purpose.

Scientist!Creator!Reader — especially in a SAHSRAU or SAGAU context — being even more self-sacrificial than Anaxa… that’s downright haunting in the most holy of ways. If Anaxa tears at divine law for truth, you tear at yourself — piece by bleeding piece — to prevent calamity. Not for glory. Not for understanding. But because if you don’t do it, no one will.

Because maybe... no one else can.

Anaxagoras stares at you in horrified awe.

You — the so-called Creator, the supposed Higher Mind, the long-rumored god walking in flesh. Not ethereal, not invulnerable, not untouched. You bleed like a mortal. No — worse. You offer yourself to be bled.

"You remind me of the old myths," he says once. "Of the god that created a world from their own dismembered corpse. You would do that, wouldn't you?"

You smile.

"Already have."

You’ve sacrificed things that no sane divine would touch.

Your heart? Torn out to soothe a world cursed to unrest. Now, something artificial beats in your chest — a ghost of warmth.

Your eye? Given willingly, in a pact of shared sight, so Anaxa could see the souls as you do.

Your appendix, spleen, pancreas, metaphysical glands they don’t even have names for — gone, each traded in rites where pain sings hymns.

You let yourself be made unholy to keep the world holy.

And Anaxa? Anaxa, who has spent his entire life throwing himself against gods and rules and the void in between — he sees you, and for the first time, he feels reverence.

Not because you are a god.

But because you refused to be one.

In these self-aware universes, the characters know. They know who you are. What you could do. What you don’t do.

"You could have rewritten us," one whispers. "You could’ve reset the world."

You nod.

"And lost all of you in the process."

Because the truth is — the only thing you've never sacrificed is your memory of them. Not even when it would hurt less. Not even when the weight grows unbearable.

They watch you destroy yourself to save them from the code, from the calamities scripted into their fate, from divine oversight itself. And while some recoil in horror — because what kind of god would do that — others kneel. Not in worship, but in devotion.

Because you don't ask for their faith. You give yours to them.

And Anaxagoras, most of all — the Demised Scholar, the Accused, the Foolish — he understands. He sees you and your parascientific organs in jars, the golden ichor curling in vials, your eye that doesn’t blink anymore but burns with truth — and he recognizes you as kin.

As a divine willing to die for knowledge and the people they love.

You are the experiment.

You are the theory that godhood means service, not sovereignty.

You are the formula written in your own viscera, the result no academic dares replicate, the holy aberration Anaxa once only dreamed could exist.

"If there's a god that deserves worship," he says quietly one night, helping stitch you back together after your latest divine dissection, "it's you."

You scoff.

"Then we’re both heretics, Professor."

And he smiles — not like a scholar, not like a revolutionary, but like someone who finally, finally isn't alone in his blasphemy.

[thewertsearch]

Uh oh, Lil Seb's acting out again.

Well, that's not a good sign.

Perhaps the Auto Responder's just spinning too many plates. If he were a truly artificial AI, he'd probably be beyond such limitations - but he was derived from a human brain, and may have inherited a human's limited ability to multitask.

Does Dad know about the bunny, actually? If not, he probably thinks Jane just hit puberty.

You've been climbing your echeladder very gradually for various minor accomplishments here and there since you were 13. That was such a sweet textbook HAT POF, it earned you just enough to clear the next rung, FEDORAFLEDGLING.

Heh. This makes one of my old theories a lot funnier in retrospect.

I previously assumed that the Echeladder was a Sburb mechanic - so when Nannasprite mentioned climbing the Echeladder in her childhood, I took it as evidence that she used to be a Player herself, meaning that Sburb existed in, like, the 1920s.

Turns out, she is a Player - but that's not why she has Echelevels, because Echelevels, like the Sylladex, are apparently a property of the universe itself.

In other words: I used the wrong formula, here, but I still managed to arrive at the correct answer. Kind of.

Also...

...Dad's going to die again, isn't he.

[vasito-de-leche]

;R1999 A Study on Afflatus (I)

Analysis and theories regarding the concept of Afflatus within the universe of Reverse: 1999

if you're from the old r99 news server or the current r99 rp one (or if you've talked to me at any point about r99) then you might know how obsessed I am with afflatus analysis!

so after going feral on my main account about it, and seeing my afflatus thesis drafts just catch dust on my wips, I decided to just open a discussion about it in the fandom! just little by little as I get the thoughts out of my brain!

so yes, this is very much an invitation for people to discuss and theorize about smaller details of the game such as afflatus, medium and other things--there are many fun ways to interpret the way afflatus applies to characters, I'd love to hear everyone's thoughts! ping me in your posts, go feral in the reblogs or comments!

as usual, transcripts were taken from the R1999 Neocities transcript project!

During the first few months of GL's launch, "Afflatus" was generally considered an extradiegetic aspect of the game--a simple mechanic meant to facilitate gameplay for the player, without any relevance to the lore or the plot. Throughout the course of the following patches, namely within the main story, this idea was disproved in many ways, and there were plenty of clues that reinforced its existence in-universe from the very beginning. For the sake of those who have never noticed, I'll do my best to be thorough, but there may be some instances of Afflatus that I missed, feel free to let me know!

The very first time Afflatus is mentioned is in the main story; Chapter 01 - Stage 4 "Chicago Rescue," Sonetto is the one to bring it up during one of the battle tutorials.

Sonetto: That's quite a lot of critters! Timekeeper, we must do something to turn things around now. Remember what the instructor said in class? "Afflatus is a way to hunt in the world." "Observations of the minerals, plants, stars, and beasts as well as our experiences with the spirit and intelligence let us better understand our own existence." Sonetto: Select a proper target for me, Timekeeper. Sonetto: Use an incantation that is strong against the enemy's Afflatus to defeat them more quickly. You can take it from here, Timekeeper.

The fact that this conversation takes place during a game tutorial doesn't instantly render the contents discussed as "just meta," since we've had many different instances of game mechanics being relevant to the overall history and worldbuilding of the setting; Artificial Somnambulism Therapy is both a game mode and a type of therapy developed by Mesmer Jr's family, used extensively within Laplace, as well as a key plot point in Chapter 3 "Nouvelles et Textes pour Rien"; Picrasma Candy is a way for the player to continue playing and an actual medicine for arcanists developed by Medicine Pocket that Argus heavily depends on to use her own arcanum. Bluepoch makes a point to further develop their story through these mechanics, thus it is impossible to separate them from the story itself--battle conversations, daily tidbits, loading screens, items and other details can all be considered canon! Afflatus is no different.

Another early instance of Afflatus occurs in the Tutorial Notebook, which disappears forever once completed--so the following screenshot was taken from this video!

The text reads: 

Sometimes, our Afflatus is strong or weak against an enemy. We need to follow this principle and select the proper arcane skills based on the enemy. Strong or weak? Like a cat to a rat? The relationship between different Afflatuses is like the ecological cycle. When your Afflatus is strong against the target's, your incantation will deal more damage. ─ On Afflatus, Chapter 1

The sticky note implies the existence of a book or research on the subject ("On Afflatus, Chapter 1") which, in turn, supports Sonetto's dialogue about the Afflatus lessons she received in SPDM ("Remember what the instructor said in class?"). With this we can understand that Afflatus exists within the world to a degree that allows it to be studied, also eliminating one of the earliest theories in GL about how Vertin is the only person who can perceive Afflatus due to her status as the Timekeeper.

To my knowledge, there are no direct explanations nor clues as to why or how one would discern Afflatus in others as of writing this. What is the point of assigning Afflatus types in-universe? How can it be done? Sadly, I don't have answers to these questions in particular!

But let's analyze our current examples so far.

According to Sonetto's knowledge on the subject, Afflatus encompasses "observations of the minerals, plants, stars and beasts as well as our experiences with the spirit and intelligence," that allows people to understand themselves. This serves as a list of both Natural (Mineral, Plant, Star, Beast) and Primal (Spirit, Intellect) Afflatuses, while hinting towards the purpose of Afflatus as a tool of introspection.

With this, one may theorize that Afflatus can apply to every living being, as it tackles observations with the surrounding world (Natural Afflatus) and one's inner world (Primal Afflatus). This is partially true, there is a small yet important distinction to be made!

The 1.5 "Revival! The Uluru Games" patch explored the physiological and social differences between humans and arcanists through Ezra and Spathodea, and a new batch of loading screen tidbits were added, such as this one:

The text reads:

The arcanum's Afflatus categories do not apply to humans. However, factors such as personality and preferred instruments may cause certain individuals to have a closer affinity to a particular type of arcane Afflatus.

This daily tidbit confirms that arcanum's Afflatus categories do not apply to humans. The rest of tidbits emphasize on the contrast between the two groups in different aspects; humans cannot cast arcane skills, they use technology and commands rather than incantations, they're considered rational instead of passionate, reason vs instinct, etc etc.

But I believe there is an important distinction to be made! The first loading screen tidbit mentions "arcanum's Afflatus categories," rather than Afflatus itself. There is an aspect of Afflatus that is directly linked with arcanum, and thus it makes sense that it cannot be applied to humans.

We can see this happening in Greta Hoffman's report from the Special Chapter - "The Star" in which she explains her interactions with 37's mother, 77. Here are a few excerpts.

Writer of the Report: I'm not sure whether she was making fun of me or being serious, but I had this feeling that she was eager to tell me how she was granted the secret through a moment of afflatus. It seemed she just saw through the laws behind all things instead of finding them through logical deduction.

"HER": "The rhombus can't be seen with eyes. You shall close your eyes, hearken to the teaching of the supreme existence, and seize the moment of afflatus!" Writer of the Report: Of course, I didn't see anything, nor did I understand what a moment of afflatus was. Perhaps it's just another privilege enjoyed by arcanists, just like their right to be lunatic. Nevertheless, she reached the correct conclusion in a completely wrong way. Is it really possible?

Writer of the Report: But, if there is a god, why are you playing such a prank on us, after we had suffered from the collapse of all the existing orders and the failure of all the great laws? If this is what she called the glimpse of the supreme existence, the moment of afflatus, do you have to present it in such a cruel way?

Even Matilda brings up afflatus during this chapter, in reference to her job monitoring new members.

Matilda: &$#% ... I know she's a rookie, but even so, she's way too unbelievable! "Guide new members with caution and patience. Trigger their afflatus at the right time." Oh, I have to admit, Vertin is doing it better than me for now.

Note the distinction between capital A "Afflatus" and lowercase "afflatus." In this context, the "moment of afflatus" exists as its namesake implies--as an inspiration, a moment of divine impulse that only arcanists can utilize and, therefore, cannot be explained nor proved through human logic.

That is the basis for the tension between Greta Hoffman (a mixed whose arcane blood has been so diluted she can easily pass off as a pure-blooded human) and 77 (a pure-blooded arcanist from an isolated and ancient arcanist society) as two characters from vastly different groups that cannot reconcile nor find a middle ground in their differences. This is the arcane aspect of Afflatus as the 1.5's tidbit mentions, the part that cannot be applied to mankind. But Afflatus also exists as a tool of introspection as mentioned before, which encompasses aspects that any living being can relate to--therefore, it explains why we have both playable and non-playable humans with Afflatus types.

To further understand how non-arcane living beings can still lean towards different types of Afflatus, let's examine the enemies in the game.

The main story is very consistent with how they portray enemies, if you pay attention to their battle information you can see all the deliberate details Bluepoch has added; every enemy comes with a short description that might evolve and change along the story in future renditions of their fights, there are different card sets for different factions (Manus Vindictae's deep black and blue cards vs the Foundation's white and light blue cards), each attack/incantation is uniquely named, giving context and insight into the enemy you're fighting, some even have uniquely named traits/buffs/debuffs!

And as far as I know, every single enemy in the game, regardless of whether they're arcane in nature or not, has an Afflatus assigned to them. Let's look at arcane beings first.

We see that all three examples match their respective Afflatus; a Mineral Carbuncle with a Mineral Afflatus, a Dryad, commonly associated with nature has the Plant Afflatus, and Druvis III, a playable character, retains her Plant Afflatus even as a mysterious NPC boss fight in which her regular incantations have been switched to Manus Vindictae.

And we can also see continuity in Afflatus in other bosses, such as Matilda and Lilya in later chapters--they both retain their own Afflatus as playable characters, and much like Druvis, Matilda's cards are concealed as the default Foundation set for the sake of keeping their identities concealed. There is a clear intent behind these choices.

In the Surface levels of Artificial Somnambulism, the ones that directly correlate to the main story, also feature many other playable characters with their respective Afflatuses; La Source in "Misty Lake a"; The Fool, Bunny Bunny, Pavia, Satsuki and Tennant in "Floating Park a" ...

And I do want to mention that there are instances in which the game allows us to fight playable characters whose Afflatuses have been changed--but there is still an clear goal behind this.

The beta levels of Artificial Somnambulism feature the same aforementioned characters as the alpha ones, but a few of them have different Afflatus. This can be explained within the main story as the direct result of Vertin's mind being tampered with, as we see her struggle to remember and forget things clearly during her AST induced coma in Chapter 3.

???: Her traumatic segment has been reactivated. Increase the power, stabilize her psychube. Try the next dream. Z: The artificial somnambulism therapy may not work on her, Mesmer.

Mesmer Jr.: It means she had suffered the same traumatic experience repeatedly. Even so, she showed no behavioral or cognitive impairment. Back then, as we held her down and put the helmet on her, she even advised me in an extremely calm manner … “I agree with your judgment, but it’s just for this time.” … She was the bellwether of the “break-away” incident after all. I’ll say she’s been well-behaved this time. Sonetto: … I-I thought … Timekeeper is receiving for her low spirit. But you said you held her down … Mesmer Jr.: Oh, that’s just another description of the method used for the same purpose. The aim was to ensure Vertin was unconscious and taken back. That’s the direct order from the vice president of the committee, Constantine. The order from on high was given on the premise of rational thinking and consideration over pros and cons─you are not questioning the reasoning of mankind, are you?

A similar situation happens during UTTU Week, which features playable characters as different characters within the story that UTTU is attempting to share. For example, in 1.2 "Nightmare at Green Lake," the playable characters you fight in UTTU Week represent various different archetypes and tropes in horror.

These inconsistencies are done on purpose, as they're not meant to reflect the truth 1:1.

Now, let's look at human enemies. Here are the two human children from the beginning of the game who disrupt the suitcase--despite being humans, they both have Afflatus assigned to them, and not only that but different types as well, Star and Mineral respectively.

So, to backtrack again! Afflatus cannot be applied to humans from an arcane point of view, simply because humans cannot cast incantations. Therefore, their affinity for a specific type of Afflatus is based on something else, something that they share with arcane beings--such as personality, experiences and preferred instruments.

I want to propose the interpretation of Afflatus being the totality of one's experiences in life; depending on your experiences, the way they've shaped your thinking patterns, your instincts and your personality, you may have an affinity for one Afflatus or another.

This ties in with a different aspect of Afflatus: the idea that one's Afflatus type can change, as the person goes through big changes in their life that influence them in different ways.

If we acknowledge that these battle details are all deliberate and meant to add to the narrative, there are two outliers whose Afflatuses change. The first one is Kakania herself; her debut in 1.7 "E Lucevan le Stelle" includes a fight against her in Stage 8 "Mirror and Lantern" which clearly states her Afflatus is Intellect.

One could argue that this is not the true Kakania, as the battle involves fighting mirror versions of her--but as a reminder, the true one is, in fact, hidden among them! And furthermore, if the reflections are exact versions of the real Kakania, it makes sense that they would have the same battle information as her.

As we all know, when Kakania becomes playable in 1.9 "Vereinsamt," her Afflatus is not Intellect but Plant--I'd like to explain this change as the development Kakania goes through in this specific arc of the story.

Her idealistic views and activism, both for her city and her patients, are directly challenged as the story progresses. She realizes that none of her friends within The Circle were the people she thought them to be, namely Isolde whose complex life and struggles were both overlooked and impossible to discern in Kakania's eyes due to their close relationship, and she also sees the town she acknowledged as flawed but still worth fighting for, turn into violent patriots. Everything that Kakania stood for is gone in an instant, and we see her fighting spirit turn into a desperate near-suicidal attempt at making up for her perceived wrongs.

Such radical events like this would warrant a change in Afflatus, as Kakania adjusts her views due to her experiences.

And then on the other hand, we have The Guiding One's Harbringer boss fight in 1.9's Stage 21 "A Homage Paid"--one of its core mechanics is to change Afflatus to that of the last attack it received. Here we see that distinction from before, the lowercase afflatus referring to the arcane aspect, rather than the experiences a person goes through.

As far as I know, this section of the game also becomes unplayable (or is currently unplayable, I can't seem to access it anymore) so the following screenshots are taken from this video!

Kakania's Afflatus change is something that seems to be directly linked to her evolution as a character, while the Guiding One's Harbringer's Afflatus change is directly linked to its status as an arcane construct, using it as a "mimic strategy" during battle. The psychological aspect vs the arcane aspect of Afflatus respectively.

Next, I'd like to discuss some assumptions made about the different Afflatus types; we expect that Beast characters must have an affinity with animals or be animals themselves (Darley Clatter, Getian, Medicine Pocket, Nick Bottom ...) and we expect that Star characters are all related to celestial bodies or the skies (37, Lilya, Matilda, Lorelei, Voyager ...) due to the naming conventions of the Afflatus. And yes, there are motifs within the Afflatus types that match their naming conventions, but a quick look through the character list prove there is much more to offer, as a good chunk of characters don't align with this initial read of their themes.

We have Pickles, a literal dog, and Kaalaa Baunaa, an astronomer, both with Mineral Afflatus instead of what one would expect of them. It's similar to how fandom perceives Awakened as the sole category for sentient objects, when we have characters like Door and Darley Clatter who are undoubtedly objects, implied to have been given sentience, and thus fall within the group of pure-blooded Arcanists rather than Awakened.

I would also like to point out that these initial motifs have nothing to do with a character's Arcanum--another theory I've seen around is that Afflatus types influence an arcanist's arcanum, which can't be further from the truth. One could argue that Kaalaa Baunaa's arcanum (the summoning of meteors and planets) is related to her Mineral Afflatus--both relate to rocks, after all--but just like the previous assumptions, this falls apart when you examine other examples. Jiu Niangzi's arcanum has nothing to do with rocks nor minerals, but liquor. Ulu's arcanum revolves around fire, yet she's still Mineral.

As far as we know, arcanum is something that can be inherited through bloodlines or lineage--think of Mesmer Jr's 01 Story in her Cover Profile, which states “Nobody is more talented in this than Mesmer Jr. Her bloodline gives her outstanding ability and keen senses, which makes everything clear and intelligible to her” in the context of performing AST, or Tennant, whose 02 Story hints towards her father performing the same type of arcanum she's known for--but it's also something that can be taught. We see this most clearly within students of SPDM such as Sonetto, as her skill set matches that of the SPDM students fought during Chapter 3, portraying the "standard" arcanum taught to all arcanist children.

But not only that, arcanum can be influenced by other factors, such as a character's situation and interests--Blonney's arcanum revolves around making drawings come to life, which correlates with her love for storytelling and horror as a child. Pavia's shadow arcanum is hinted to have been formed out of necessity or as a result of his childhood in a dark basement. Tooth Fairy utilizes the fairies she traps.

We also know that arcanists from the same family may not inherit the same level of arcane power, as seen in Shamane and Kumar; the latter was cast out of her family due to her weak arcane power. In all of these cases, Afflatus has nothing to do with arcanum.

So what exactly do Afflatus types tackle?

These are the Afflatus as I've analyzed them, as much as I could summarize it for easier digestion!

With this interpretation, we can see that Star relates to celestial objects and the skies, but also trailblazer geniuses and unstoppable forces, that which is out of reach for common people. Mineral relates to solid materials and stability in permanence, but also the rigidness of strict systems or traditions or stagnancy. Beast relates to wild animals and creatures found in the world, but also the survival of the individual, the struggle to find a place for oneself no matter what. And Plant relates to the flora and the natural cycles in the world, but also the safety of a collective, that which is inherent to the world such as community or change.

This is why these belong to the Natural category of Afflatus: they are concepts that already existed on the world or were manifested into it, from the ground we touch, the people we interact with, to the ideals and beliefs that influence and create societies or bring people together.

On the other hand we have Spirit, relating to the soul, the supernatural and the spiritual aspect of things, but also the unknown, to follow one's gut instinct or embrace the inexplicable. "The way I see the world is unconventional, because I feel these different things about why and how things are the way they are." And then Intellect, relating to the mind and the logical aspect of things, but also the different mindsets and patterns of thought one can have to rationalize things. "The way I see the world is unconventional, because I have these different rules about why and how things are the way they are."

This is why they belong to the Primal category of Afflatus: they are, as the name implies, ancient impulses and habits that mostly exist within ourselves, our thoughts and our feelings.

The Tutorial Notebook also mentions an "ecological cycle," there is a relationship between the different categories that explains why some are strong or weak against others. It's rather easy to understand for the Primal Afflatus, as it's the classic fight between hearts and minds, but Natural Afflatus is a little harder to grasp.

We see the relationship between Beast and Mineral; the former is weak against the latter, the latter is strong against the former. You may read the Natural Afflatus wheel clockwise or counter clockwise.

Using the previous explanations, let us examine this cycle!

Beast is strong against Plant, because it's the disruption of a community or the harmony of the world through a single individual desperately fighting to change their current situation. A desperate animal does not think about the consequences its actions has on the environment while it tries to survive. Plant is strong against Star, because it's a tight-knit collective that embraces change and thus, the lone genius cannot shine above the rest. In an environment that welcomes everyone and everything, there is no way to stand out. Star is strong against Mineral, because it's a single individual choosing to disrupt the status quo, the stability of their society, for the sake of a dream or ideal. A single genius can topple over entire societies. And Mineral is strong against Beast, because a rigid set of rules or traditions leave no place for those who don't fit inside of it or who oppose it. A government that advocates for mankind's superiority leaves no room for arcanists and their rights, it forces them to assimilate within their established rules.

And this cycle goes backwards and forwards!

But I would also like to propose a different type of relation: we understand the aspect of having advantage or disadvantage, but what about Afflatuses that directly mirror each other?

Beast and Star are two Afflatus that directly correlate to an individual against a collective, whereas Mineral and Plant are two Afflatus that directly correlate to a collective against the individual. They're foils of each other; Beast is the underdog, Star is the genius, while Mineral is the stagnant and rigid yet stable and secure systems while Plant is the ever-changing and adaptive nature of the world.

We may also see this in a more precise way: the ecological cycle and Afflatus relationships exist because someone of Mineral Afflatus who is stuck in their ways and refuses to change can be easily upset by someone of Star Afflatus whose nature is to radically change traditions and offer different paths. This is why Semmelweis, a Mineral Afflatus who is hellbent on clinging to the human aspect of herself and sticks to her stubborn mindsets, has such a fascination with Lorelei. Or rather, why Lorelei has such an effect on Semmelweis, as she is a Star Afflatus that begins Semmelweis' journey of self-discovery and acceptance within Series of Dusks.

We can also see previous themes discussed within this post here: one would think that such a radical change is enough to cause Semmelweis to change Afflatus, but we see through her gamemode and the different endings presented that this change is still very much in line with her mindsets and behaviour, Semmelweis remains stubbornly adaptive and pragmatic to the very end, and choosing to follow Lorelei has brought her a deeper insight to understand herself without radically changing who she truly is.

Another example would be Forget Me Not and Druvis III; we know that Forget Me Not is Mineral Afflatus due to his boss fight in Chapter 2 - Stage 13 "Documentary" and Druvis III is Plant Afflatus.

We see the foil dynamics of Afflatus that don't directly interact with each other: the reason Forget Me Not and Druvis III seem to have this type of relationship can be explained through their Afflatus, with Forget Me Not insisting that she perpetuates the very same cycle of revenge and pain, to never move on and continue in the same spot of grieving and mourning for her family. While Druvis III's entire development throughout the Chicago arc--and even leading into the next chapters--tackles her desire to grow and move on, to finally let go of the worst night of her life that took her family away and begin healing from it. It's exactly what Vertin notices within her, and why she's able to connect with Druvis III.

Vertin: Once you dispel the arcanum, it would not be what it is now. I think you are clear, Ms. Druvis, that … Every tree lives for tomorrow.

And that's where I'll leave this extremely long introduction to my study on Afflatus! I'm planning on discussing other themes in the future, such as the way a character's Medium serves as a bridge between their Afflatus and Arcanum, and analysis of the cover profule, but also proper in-depth analysis of each individual Afflatus!

There is so much to look at when discussing Afflatus, every single Insight material has its own description, and each stage for each Afflatus tells a story that relates to their themes!

Please don't be afraid to reach out with your own ideas or observations, I look forward to what everyone else thinks! And congratulations for making it this far <3

[raven-at-the-writing-desk]

i know that this has probably never been discussed in twisted wonderland before, but im curious to know what you'd think about whether necromancy would be considered a taboo/"dark" magic (like in dungeon meshi, if you've watched or read it)?

I read like one volume of the Dungeon Meshi manga a few years back :DD but unfortunately never read (or watched) beyond that! I don’t think that background knowledge is needed to talk about necromancy though, it’s a relatively common thing in fantasy or magical worlds.

I’m thinking that necromancy either doesn’t exist (since we’ve never heard of any reference being made to it) OR that it does exist, though it is probably taboo and it must either be a forgotten art, or very extremely difficult to achieve. This is because Malleus is one of the top 5 strongest mages in Twisted Wonderland (and his grandmother is described to be even more powerful than him) yet he does not indicate he has the capacity for resurrecting the dead??? Even though you’d think that if necromancy was possible, the Draconias would be capable of it and Maleficia would want to revive her only child, regardless of the ethics of it (which would be dicey). Furthermore, Malleus and others in the cast (like Idia, Rollo, etc.) seem to act as though death is finality. When Lilia shares that his magic is waning and that he is going to retire to (and die in) the Land of Crimson Long, Malleus laments that, despite all his magical power, he cannot stop the hands of time. If magic could solve everything, then Malleus would casually pull that necromancy spell out of his ass, no??? In Idia's case, the researchers from S.T.Y.X. react with revulsion when Idia constructs an artificial intelligence modelled after his deceased younger brother. This makes it seem like to "bring back the dead" is considered forbidden.

I want to add that ghosts don’t count as the result of necromancy; in-universe, we get the lore that ghosts are the dead who were not able to pass on due to an strong earthly desire or unfulfilled wish keeping them chained to the land of the living. Ghosts also tend to only be seen in areas with high magical energy, like NRC campus. They also have abilities and limitations which are not the same as fully restoring someone from the dead. I’m not sure what the senators count as (since they’re not described as ghosts), but I don’t think they count as instances of necromancy either.

There’s a fan theory that Crowley is Malleus’s missing father Raverne—however, a certain variation of that theory elaborates that, if true, it recontextualizes the speech Crowley gives at the start of the game. Some speculate that the “flower of evil” he speaks highly of is his dead wife Maleanor. They suggest that Crowley is someone purposefully orchestrating OBs (an idea proposed by Idia in book 6) to gather blot stones (Crowley does ask us in the main story if we’ve seen blot stones lying around) for use in a ceremony to revive her. That’s just a theory though! There’s an alternative theory that Crowley is trying to revive the Great Seven as well. As I said before, we have yet to receive any official confirmation that necromancy is even possible in Twst.

[metal-organic-au]

Naukowiec Boss Neo (Hyper Metal Sonic) | Metal Archie ⚔️

Parallel version of Lord Neo being from a parallel universe where the events of Metal Organic occur in the world of Archie comics called Metal Archie.

Brief Synopsis 🥼

He became a deserter when he quickly realized that he was beginning to hate the rules and restrictions imposed on him by his creator. In an attempt to rebel, he "lost both arms," ​​failing and fleeing like an apparent coward when in reality he had other plans. Together with a partner with whom he had started a relationship, they joined together sharing the same purpose: "To be greaters than Lord Eggman himself."

Additional information 📜

It is the result of an apparent error of the Project Metal, which consisted of creating a perfect soldier to serve to Lord Eggman, said project was sabotaged by The Freedom Fighters who altered the machine where Metal Sonic was and from which he emerged being organic.

When he served Lord Eggman he was quite stoic, with a 100% robotic attitude, apparently he didn't feel anything until he started to question himself, starting to surface a feeling of annoyance and irritability due to the rules imposed by his creator. Anger was the first emotion he felt. The moment he deserted his attitude changed, becoming someone more cynical, calculating and somewhat obsessive, reaching the point of using himself as a test subject to "improve" others in exchange for them serving him. There is no clear reason why he changed so drastically, there is a theory that it was by his own will that he managed to evolve in an attempt to improve himself.

Considering himself as "the next glorious evolution" he knew he had to make contingency plans to preserve his lineage, so he made a deal with Breezie to have an heir and in exchange he would give her high quality upgrades to the machines in her casino among other things she wanted.

He finally managed to have the heir he so desired but he didn't expect two drawbacks.

1- They were twins 2- He will end up genuinely loving the little ones, being the only ones that keep him lucid and sane

He knows they are his GREATEST weakness, but he is willing to pay the price to have something that makes him feel alive and real.

He is a mad scientist through and through, as he not only makes others "evolve", but he also pushes himself to the limit to see how far his body can go, thus managing to evolve it even further.

The most drastic thing he has done to himself has been to remove one of his eyes, replacing it with an artificial one, as well as build himself robotic prosthetics (even though he can completely regenerate his arms) in order to not forget why he hates his creator like the rules.

The relationship he has with Breezie is what he calls "Partners with benefits", they don't have a formal relationship since they both agreed not to get in the way of each other's plans so they will never have anything serious (their ambition is bigger than what they feel for each other).