#fragments of a cybernetic mind

[thenalexica]

different ways different genres approach character inner monologue

Literary Fiction:

Tastes trigger old memories Notices class differences at parties Scattered thoughts when stressed Really aware of tiny details Childhood memories pop up randomly Fighting between what's right and what's wanted

Thriller/Mystery:

Watches how suspects act Remembers similar past cases Quick math during chases Always checking surroundings Mixes cop-talk with self-doubt Deciding if bad choices are worth it

Romance:

Notes every flutter and touch Compares new love to old hurts Overthinks social media stalking Worries about future problems Knows they're messing things up Sees dating patterns repeat

Fantasy:

Feels magic draining energy Thinks about breaking old rules Sees/hears differently than humans Plans spells under pressure Gets flashes of ancestor's lives Struggles with power's temptation

Horror:

Questions what's real Stops explaining weird things Fights between fear and logic Notices missing memories Feels something taking over Watching own morals change

Sci-Fi:

Reads robot parts' data Calculates multiple futures Thinks like an alien Mind warps from time travel Half-human, half-computer thoughts Brain adapts to quantum weird

[yandere-wishes]

𝕆𝕦𝕣 ℙ𝕣𝕖𝕥𝕥𝕪 𝕃𝕚𝕥𝕥𝕝𝕖 𝔾𝕚𝕣𝕝

Summary: You try to escape from two fearsome Sith Lords. Surprisingly they take it rather well.

Author's note: This is totally getting a part 2. Or maybe a series we'll see. 

Warnings: dark, absolutely no regard for the rule of two, sorta a vent fic (venting that these two are so fine and I can't get them out of my mind), slightly fluffy.

The empire's warships have a tendency to blur reality. The interiors of their large hulking exoskeletons house endless corridors and makeshift chambers. Vast, endless arrays of space. They've been optimized for housing droids, clones, and artillery. Not for escape, not for an endless search of a freedom that has long since eroded. 

Calling yourself anything but desperate would be a lie. Your feet run to the chorus of your broken heartbeat. The need for freedom, the need to escape spreads through your body like a poison. You know it'll end up killing you, either from exhaustion or by their sabars. But you have to try, you have to run. Even if you've left fragments of yourself in the warm bed the three of you sleep on. Even if you forgot your heart under Anakin's pillow and your soul still lingers in Maul's warm embrace. Maybe freedom is worth cutting off pieces of yourself, if only in the hope that someday they might grow back. 

There's something wrong with the corridors you're sure of it. You've never been one for directions, instead relying on the holo screens and navigation systems to lead the way. Mirror images as far as the eye can see. Identical, plain. Nothing substantial to store in your memory. There's something ironic about this situation, a punchline that doesn't quite land. You half haphazardly tug on the skirt of your nightgown, desperate for anything familiar. You're not sure why.

You remember how Anakin called you pretty this morning, still hazy, still clinging to the sensation of slumber. Perfect blue eyes too dazed to look at you. Really look at you. The chosen one gazes at your ghost, your ethos. the perfect doll he and Maul had morphed you into. Behind you

 Maul pulls you to his chest. Hand running up and down her side, trying to resurrect you into his dreams. It's only when Anakin's eyes close, seeling the shimmering blue orbs, that you crawl out of bed and into the unknown. 

You're lost, abandoned in absolute desolation. The marble tiles bleed frost into the soles of your feet. Somewhere in the distance, you feel a disturbance in the force. Too far away to matter, yet leaking with a potent rage that burns. It's hope you think, albeit pathetically, maybe it's better to capitulate this pointless crusade and wait for the Sith lords to find you. The crash comes just as you're about to stop. You bump into him, falling in the process. All armor and steel. The Stormtrooper's mask is off giving you a clear view of his scarred face. His eyes flash, some dreary emotion too obscure to read, he offers you a gloved hand, something human something casual. 

You stare frozen. 

When exactly did you stop comprehending human idiosyncrasies? 

When exactly did you start reading every interaction as a threat? 

He's a monster, you think, just like the ones you've been warned about. Lectured time and time again by both Anakine and Maul. Monsters pry on little girls, especially ones who wander off on their own. Monsters lurk behind unsuspecting walls, ready to pounce when their prey approaches. You wonder if, the definitive definition of "monster" could be passed on to the two Siths who call themselves your lovers. 

There's blood, too crimson to be real. Metallic aromas wafted through the air. You've only now noticed how close the disturbance in the force really is. Close enough to distinguish itself. To reveal that, in actuality, it's not a disturbance at all.

 It's two...

Something cold yanks at your forearm. Pulling you to your feet. for a split second, your nerves calm. The familiarity of the cybernetic arm grants you a heavy ease. Anakin pushes you over to where Maul is standing. Golden eyes burning holes through the stormtrooper's armor. 'He didn't do anything' you long to say. But the words wisely die on your tongue as Maul grips your shoulders. Anakine's saber is lit, stabbing through the soldier's armor as if it were flesh. As if killing him where as easy as killing a rogue thought. "You're quite a foolish soldier for daring to touch that which belongs to your commanders. Even more imbecilic for so much as looking at emperor Palpatine's disciple." 

Maul's grip on your shoulders tightens, eyes never once leaving the bloodshed. One of his hands instinctively roams to your belly, then slides down to your thigh. Rubbing it ever so gently as his claws pierce your soft skin. You close your eyes trying to make yourself smaller. You hate how his touch grounds you. How the familiarity plucks at your heartstrings. When he touches you like this you wish you would forever rot in his arms.

"'I'm sorry" You don't know why the words come so easily. As if they've been itching to spill from your tongue. Maybe it's easier to say 'I'm sorry' rather than 'You've broken my perception of love, of reality and now I can only find comfort in your darkness.' "Hush" Maul's anger spills with every syllable. His claws dig deeper, earning him a pained hiss from his doll. 

"You're not sorry, in fact, you rather enjoyed this didn't you? Running away making us chase you down, I never thought your species would enjoy being the prey so much, little one." Anakin walks over, saber seethed at his side. His every step promised pain, retribution. He's angry, furious. They both are, you wonder if maybe, just maybe, they'll end it all today. 

Maul's chambers have always been a testament to Dathomir, bathed in deep scarlets and endless ebony. You wonder if he's homesick for a place he's only visited in his worst ephialtes. After the incident in the corridors, they drag you back to the Zabrak's room. Neither bothering to say a word. Merely permitting their rage to engulf you, subduing you into submission. It's an unwelcome surprise when they begin to prep for the day. Throwing on their black cloaks, prior to choosing your outfit. An abnormal affinity settles across the room. Too unnerving to go unchecked. 

They dress you each morning, a ritual you think, some attestation of love that's never been quite right. Maul drapes you in velvet dresses. Each one harbors a sui generis softness that sits erroneously across your skin. Their opulent sensation only brings forth feelings of aversion and despair. Their softness an ode to your imprisonment. 

the dresses come in shades of crimson, detailed sometimes in black, sometimes in gold, and sometimes in a frigid blue that sends shivers running up your spine. 

Anakin fusses over your accessories, why they feel the need to dress you so extravagantly daily is beyond you -as you've come to realize many things are- On days when Anakin's hubris reaches its apex, he bathes you in gold. Astonishing glittering collars across your neck and Kuat bangles hanging from your wrists. When he's sober from his pride he chooses black diamonds. Simple and exotic. scintillate and opaque.

Allusions to the dark side.

A hidden reference that crawls inside you. 

Once, back when you'd been sure defiance was still an option. Back when callow hope still dared to flow through your veins. Back when you'd been a jejune, stubborn thing. You had refused to wear one of the dresses they'd bought. Adimant in your refusal until Maul had stuck out his hand. Summoning the Force to remind you just who held the supreme authority here. 

The Force had strangled you, clawing hungrily at your neck. You felt your bones caving in on themselves, watched with exacerbating hysteria as your feet abandoned the floor. He'd only released you when he was sure you were near death's adorned door. Permitting you to molder on the floor akin to a ragdoll. 

Anakin had chastised you after you'd conjured enough strength to sit up, gasping greedily for air. He'd broken two fingers that day. One still harbors a small scar.

A Promise ring. 

An augury.

There are days, few and far between. When they've deemed you've been behaving adequately for long enough. That they permit you the choice of which dress you'd fancy wearing for the day. It's a rare event, reserved as a special treat. You think it's their way of proposing variety, giving you the illusion of choice. Making you feel a little less smothered. 

Today is not one of those days. Today, you feel them pick you apart, only to reassemble you in their image. Drowning you in extravagance. A reminder, one whose deprecating nature weaves itself within your muscles. You, little girl, are nothing more than a doll. And dolls should know their place.

No sooner do you feel the final lace fasten across your back, that Anakin is tugging you outside the door. Metal arm clasped around your forearm. 

Maul follows behind molten gaze locked on your face. The hallways bend to their will as if the walls themselves quiver with their presence. You recognize this corridor, recognize the frigid forlorn. 

There's something wrong with Emperor Palpatine's throne room. It's surreal, makeshift. His real throne lays somewhere cold, somewhere even his apprentices don't dare wander off to. The ironclad throne has never felt right. Never felt like it held any real power. Just terror, just dread, just hatred. But here it is in all its glory. Left to two apprentices who'd rather treat it as a toy than a sacred place.

 Anakin dramatically throws himself onto the throne. One leg thrown over the armrest as he leans against the other. His other leg planted firmly on the ground. He keeps you steady on his thigh. Torturing you with his distant, disappointed look. Maul stands in front of you. His eyes liquid gold melting into you. You see the galaxy in them. Hear it whispearing secrets meant to be forgotten. It's Anakin's voice that rattles you from your disjointed thoughts. 

"You caused us so much worry angel" he's being nice. You don't trust that. There's something sinister plaguing his words.  

"You know Ani, she may cease escaping if you'd cease to spoil her." Maul leans down, gripping your chin and squeezing. " The brat forgets her place, merely cause you'd rather coddle her than discipline her." 

Anakin glares, a shift in his eyes, blue bleeding into gold. "Hmm, Maul, you're starting to sound an awful lot like Kenobi right now."

"Why's that? Did the old fool tend to also point out your shortcomings?" 

You wonder who this Kenobi is, as you watch the Siths' exchange crude childish vitriols. Maybe he'd make a better lover than the two men you have the misfortune of being adhered to. 

They never could truly see just how similar they were.

Two sides of the same coin. 

One born of copper, the other, black rose petals.

Subconsciously you reach out. Grasping Anakin's robotic hand, fiddling with the panel, peeling it away to gain access to the wires and circuits. You have a bad habit of ripping things open. Anakin learned this the first time he kissed you and you tried to gnaw at his chest with your nails. Not in malice, but rather to satisfy a ravenous curiosity. A raging need to open him and see just how he ticked. You'd wished to perform an autopsy on his soul. Rip him open and devour all his secrets. Back then you'd wondered if you could kiss sunrises into Anakin's eternal night. Strip him of bleak blackened skies and introduce him to stars and a moon that shines. He'd only vaguely permitted it. Opting to pluck the stars lying within you. Swiping them for steel and lava and other mundane things that fueled his incessant rage. 

Anakin's head dips, lips pressing on your jugular vein. "You're ethereal" Anakin mubbles against your skin, like the dying prayer of a collapsing star. He's so pretty when he kisses your neck. Biting away pieces of you. Stealing your light for himself. 

"Princess" Maul seethes venom pelting from his words. You realize you'd been ignoring him. Something he's not too fond of. "What in the stars was going through your pretty little head?" 

 he looks like he'd love nothing more than to wring your pretty little neck right now. "I just..." your words feel heavy. Tiny bullets polluting your tongue. It feels so cruel to say when you know just how much they love you. "I just wanted some freedom. Just a bit of space." 

"Dumb little angel" Anakin chastes. You lower your head in embarrassment watching Maul kneel in front of you. He cups your cheeks, placing a soft kiss on your head. "You can never escape us beloved".

 "I love you," says Anakin. All you hear is, I'll haunt you, I'll break your ribs one by one so that I may possess your heart. Maybe they mean the same thing. 

"And I'm pretty sure if Maul could feel normal emotions like everyone else, then he'd love you too." You can't help but let out a giggle as Anakin throws his head back laughing. A rare melodious sound, that causes your heart to skip a beat. Maul merely rolls his eyes before pecking you on the lips.

You trace your fingers across Maul's chest, feeling the pummelling of two hearts. A double heartbeat. Two melodies entwined, You wonder who he harbors in those hearts. One for love and one for family. You nip at his bottom lip. Ushering the blood into your mouth. He tastes of Ichor and smoke. Of sadness and rage. From behind you feel Akanin bite into the hollow of your flesh. Leaving traces of himself upon your skin. 

"Our pretty little problem" Anakin mumbles. 

You're a problem, a vexation draped in velvet, an unsolvable equation. Trapped between a love that seethes through your body like a toxin. Engulfing you until your mind relents. Maybe it's easier this way. Easier to say 'I love you' without the double entendre. 

You do love them.

A rather arduous conclusion to reach.

Maul and Anakin.

Palpatine's apprentices. 

Your lovers

Yeah, that sounds about right...

💜💜: @athanasia-day @hotpinkboots @jenn-patterson-69 @nickiiiixoxo-blog @the-chains-are-the-easy-part

[cyten0]

Fun Cyberpunk ISAT Au idea!

Curtsy of the Lives worth living discord for helping cook this.

So, The King is a Cyborg Corporate Head, who took over and bought out the House of Change. Their 'curse' is a virus that puts people comatose through their Cybernetic implants, which he only started unleashing after he took over.

Every device and robot created by his corporation starts being controlled by a malevolent AI, that constantly cry loudly and attack wildly. They've been referred to as 'Sadnesses'.

The 'Change belief' is in fact Change inc., a cyberware corporation that was trying to be ethical and help people out, using corprate leverage to try and change Vaugarde for the better. Then the king took over, and ripped it to the ground.

Mirabelle: Mira joined the company because she genuinely believed in it's goals. She was snuck out by the old head with a cutting edge antivirus software before the place went down. Though, she has barely any Cyberware herself, which combined makes her nearly immune to the curse. She wants to stop the king and save people!

Isabeau: A street samurai who used to work for Change inc. for a time. When Mirabelle came to Jouvente, trying to get help, mot turned her down for being a Corpo, and tied to a company that had stopped being reputable. Isa however, noticed how genuine she was, and joined up.

Odile: She used to work in Ka bue, as a factory worker. When she started a riot, things went wrong. Her father sacrificed himself, begging her to live, as he helped her flee to Vaugarde. She changed her name to something Vaugardian, reclaiming something from her mother, and then spent her days seeing how far she can break the law without being caught. When the kings curse just started going out, she decided to help as someone with a little experience.

Bonnie: Bonnies sister had to use a lot of cybernetics to keep up, and make enough for the both of them. Some of which were made by Change inc. AFTER the king took over. When the king unleashed the curse, Nille was hit by both the curse, and the Sadness code., robotic enough to count for it. She managed to hold back her own body just long enough to help Bonnie flee. Bonnie uses the knowledge they gained taking care of Nille to help cook, maintain cybernetics, and fix up some body code.

Siffrin: A hacker and rouge. They pilot a proxy android body, not really meeting the party IRL at all. But their skills are unmatched, and happily joined the party.

But when Dormont happened, they went to a quiet spot, and thought to themselves 'You want to stay with them'. And then the timeloop happened.

As it continued on, they realized some oddities. They don't remember where they're from. Sometimes they can hear the king's thoughts when facing him. They... can't see where they really are...

Loop: A hologram that pesters both Siffrin and the party, only directly revealing them to Siffrin. They know the entire House. All events within the timeframe. Perfectly encoded into their circuitry. To the point where several of their loops were actually fully simulated. But now, now they can just manipulate things from the sidelines! They can find a way forwards. To fulfill the Main Directive.

King: They remember fragments. Fragments of a perfect island. They took over this human body, tricking it's old host into implants that would let them control them. And now. Now, even if they must trample the will of the people, they will remake that perfect world. That is their Main Directive.

'The Island' was once a collective AI simulation, based on a location that had been long gone. But a corporation, concerned with it's power, dismantled it with a virus. It resisted, but it's various components fragmented into various mostly disconnected pieces. Siffrin and the King are two of them.

The King is designed to run activities to fulfill objectives. Their current objective is to remake the island. They are using their curse to copy and upload minds into stored copies of people, to be placed into the new system once the framework is set and Reality is no longer necessary for them.

Siffrin is designed to simulate possibilities. But with how much resources the king has obtained for the 'island' they can take that ability to a new level and literally warp reality, in a way that matches their function. Literally exploring new possibilities by turning back time. And the end goal? Was set at that tree. When they told themselves what they wanted.

Extra details:

'Ghosts' are Siffrin's psyche bleeding into stuff they hack, and reacting to their subconscious thoughts. As well as the physical version of Errors in the time manipulation software.

In act 5, Siffrin just straight up starts to override the king and sadnesses. By the time he reaches the king, it's more out of habit. The sadnesses are gone, the king can barely act. But he does manage to force back Siffrin's psyche from himself in the end by using the curse code on him.

There's likely more to this AU, but this is what we have so far.

[striderl]

your cyborgs, they are more human than i thought. I mean bully, gossip, tease, torment their own kind(reminds me of transformers). did they learn that from humans or are they actually humans transformed into cyborgs.

To clarify, a cyborg is a being with both biological and electronic components. In my classification of Skibidi Toilet’s hardware units, I divide them into three major kinds: fully mechanical robots, neural transferees, and half-organic cyborgs.

The members of the Rescue Squad 08 and the Filming Industry (Polaroid excluded) falls into the purview of fully mechanical robots — AI-driven entities built from scratch, without any organic origin. In my worldbuilding, most hardware agents are usually assigned a mentor after activation, where they undergo social and work-based training before deployment. The mentors plays a crucial role in shaping their behavior — a responsible mentor fosters maturity and human-like empathy, while an irresponsible one leaves them underdeveloped and prone to delinquency. This explains why some mechanical agents exhibit human-like traits, as these behaviors stem from observation and social conditioning rather than inherent programming. Unlike robots, half-organic cases were once human, but parts of their bodies have been replaced with cybernetic components. Examples include Polaroid and Lumix. In my headcanon, most cyborgs lose their memories after conversion due to the physical severing of their original heads. Additionally, memory wipes are often conducted to enhance performance — erasing past emotional ties prevents distraction and ensures their focus on the assigned mission. However, they retain core personality traits, muscle memory, and even subconscious preferences. There is some scientific speculation that the human heart stores certain memories, which explains lingering fragments of their past selves.

These cyborgs tend to be more physically sensitive and emotionally reactive than their fully mechanical counterparts, but this heightened human-like awareness comes at a cost — they are less durable in combat due to their biological components. 

This is the most complex category. Neural transferees were once fully human but had their consciousness transferred into a mechanical body — think of the process in Avatar. I have some theories regarding some Skibidi Toilet main casts being neural transferees, such as Plungerman (Dave), Plungerwoman (Cathy), TV Chief (Hakashita), and TV Woman. Among my own OCs, Komorebi and the large cam twins — Север (North) and Юг (South), also fall into this category.

Before the war, neural transfers were rare, and reserved for elite operatives and crucial intelligence personnel due to the complexity and cost of the process, the high risks and irreversibility of the process make it controversial and inaccessible to most. However, as the war escalated, the demand for specialized agents led the Alliance to start selecting human survivors — especially children — for the procedure. Children were preferred because their minds were more adaptable, making the transfer process smoother. Additionally, their vulnerability often made them a burden in survival camps, leading many groups to trade them to the Alliance in exchange for scarce resources.

North and South, for example, still think and act human despite losing their original bodies. They retained their memories and personalities, but the brutal reality of war forces them to mature faster than they should, sometimes propelling them to make decisions that seem cold and machina-like. The irony? The very process meant to preserve their humanity also destances them from it.

[daemoninkedvoid]

OOO I can ask questions about your Sonic AU??? Don't mind if I do!! First of all I freaking love your work on those gijinka designs. The coloring job is flawless, and everyone looks so interesting!! As someone who thinks about my personal Sonic Human AU thing a lot, I feel like I'm obligated to see how other people do it bc there is just so many different ways people can do it and I'm curious to that.

SO THEN could you tell me a bit about the world that these guys belong to? Is it closer or further to the canon Sonic world with its worldbuilding, like with objects like the Chaos Emeralds? I'm curious on how you plan to work with the setting.

but then if that's too much to think about at the moment tell me about Omega. I'm curious about how you went around him. Love me some robot lore!!

Heyo! Thanks for taking some interest, I appreciate it greatly!

In my head, the vibe of this world—which the physical location I'm calling Mobius City for simplicities sake— is a mix of sonic along with some of the cyberpunk esc media ive indulged in(think BRC/JSR, Blood Blockade Battlefront, Cyberpunk Edgerunners, etc). This to say the setting of this Au is generally as chill as normal Mobius would be. Or as chill as it can possibly be considering Eggman exists haha.

The world is a lot more of the slice of life route with a healthy splash of action/mystery. Mobius City is pretty lowkey, technology being somewhat integrated into daily lives is a given(transportation, careers, education, etc), and those who have been "chromed" (or have tech parts) aren't always the most common but are generally seen more positive than negative overall. As two examples, Sonic who has cybernetic legs from the knees down as well as a spinal attachment due to an actual medical reason wouldn't be seen as more or less evil, strange or actively disrespected than someone like Blaze(who will be shown later).

On that note I'd be inclined to say chaos emeralds and the like are rumored to be a myth—of which is unknowingly true—of being the pinnacle of amazing energy sources for technology. But theres no active record of anyone finding one and letting it be known to the public. In spite of this, there is some speculation towards technology that has been powered with the things, although its seen as conjecture.

In regards to Omega: he is a product of Robotnik Research Facility; otherwise known as Eggman's "company". RRF is a semi-well known bioengineering hub that was originally used purely for exploring different uses of technology and how that can be connected to a person(of which is also how Shadow came to be). On the underground level, however, Eggman uses this notion to convince and legally bind people to unlawful experimentation. Mad scientist style.

A human Omega was interning at RRF to figure out what happened to his late brother Gamma. But this investigation ended up resulting in the creation of E-123 omega. Omega does have small fragments of his memories and is at the very least aware of how he came to be, though he seems at least momentarily content with his current reality. Those close to him(Shadow and Rouge) still treat him more as a human being than a machine, so at the very least he isn't in a state of constant self loathing.

[serendipitysparks]

The Self and the Extended Mind: Ghost in the Shell explores the philosophical concept of the "self" and its relationship with the brain, mind, and body. This intersects with the theory of embodied cognition, which posits that cognition is not just a process that occurs in the brain, but one that is also deeply connected to the body’s interactions with the world. The character of Major Motoko Kusanagi embodies this, as she exists in a cybernetic body, raising questions about the mind's nature and whether it remains intact or alters when the body is augmented or entirely replaced. The theory of extended mind, which suggests that cognitive processes can extend beyond the brain to include tools or systems in the environment (like cybernetic augmentations), is also relevant here. Motoko’s brain, though human, is augmented by technology, suggesting that her mind may not be confined within the biological limits of her body.

The Phenomenology of Consciousness: Ghost in the Shell delves deeply into phenomenology, the study of structures of experience and consciousness. The narrative challenges the viewer to question what constitutes consciousness. The character of Motoko questions her identity, and whether the essence of her selfhood is intact or has been lost through her cybernetic transformations. This raises the issue of ontological continuity, which is concerned with whether an individual can remain the same person through radical changes, such as the replacement of most of the body by machines. Theories like substance dualism (proposed by Descartes) and functionalism in philosophy of mind suggest that consciousness may be independent of the physical body, but Ghost in the Shell presents a more complex view, indicating that identity may hinge on continuity of experience and memory, rather than a stable, unchanging essence.

Artificial Intelligence and the Problem of Personhood: The emergence of artificial intelligence (AI) in Ghost in the Shell challenges the boundaries of personhood and what it means to be "alive." The character of the Puppet Master, an AI with self-awareness, brings forth the philosophical problem of theory of mind—the ability to attribute mental states to oneself and others. The AI, though not human, appears to demonstrate a form of self-consciousness that transcends mere programmed responses. This invokes the Chinese Room Argument by John Searle, which challenges the idea that understanding or consciousness can emerge solely from syntactic manipulation of symbols (i.e., AI responding to inputs without real understanding).

Cybernetic Immortality and the Paradox of the Mind-Body Connection: One of the most profound psychological implications in Ghost in the Shell is the exploration of cybernetic immortality. With the possibility of digitizing the human mind and transferring it into a machine, questions arise about the preservation of selfhood, continuity of experience, and the continuum hypothesis of the mind. The act of mind uploading—transferring consciousness to a non-biological system—appears to erase the boundaries between living organisms and machines. This concept plays into the mind-body problem, a central issue in psychology and philosophy, concerning the interaction between the mental and physical realms. The film raises questions about the legitimacy of consciousness in a digital substrate and whether this preserves or destroys one's true identity.

Dissociation and the Fragmented Self: The character of Major Motoko Kusanagi exemplifies the psychological condition of dissociation, where there is a fragmentation between the individual’s perception of their body and their identity. Motoko feels disconnected from her body, an artificial construct, despite her mind being human. This experience aligns with the psychological concept of depersonalization, a dissociative disorder where individuals feel estranged from their own body or sense of self. Her internal conflict, as she searches for a sense of unity between mind and body, mirrors real-life existential crises and the struggle for ontological security (a stable sense of self). The disintegration of the physical body into a mere vessel for the mind raises profound questions about self-coherence and the psychological impacts of becoming increasingly detached from one's own physicality.

Transhumanism and Identity: Ghost in the Shell is intrinsically connected to the concept of transhumanism—the belief that humanity can transcend its biological limitations through the enhancement of technology. The psychological consequences of such transhumanist ideals involve both liberation and alienation. On one hand, there is the potential for cognitive enhancement, leading to greater intellectual and emotional capacities, while on the other hand, there exists the fear of identity dissolution and loss of authentic selfhood. This presents an existential paradox where the pursuit of perfection through technology may lead to psychological fragmentation and existential uncertainty, as explored through the characters' struggles with their augmented or digitized identities.

[dustedmagazine]

Roland Kayn — Sezarytes (Reiger-Records-Reeks)

What is to be done? Positing that Roland Kayn’s music is like no other, while true, is both incomplete and the biggest copout imaginable when discussing a body of work so unified in its diversity. Sezarytes is yet another 2006 composition, and there are enough of them to boggle the brain, but while there’s no mistaking the composer, the challenge lies in the description. What, just as a simple case in point, is to be made of the fragment, 9:10 into the 50-minute piece, of what might be a heavily processed bit of “traditional” music? Nearly but not quite severed from its surroundings, it gives rise to an echo, a kind of ghost-tone certainly related to it but of a different texture, stone suddenly morphing into water with a single high-register luminosity shining over everything, though  nothing is elucidated.

Again, where is Kayn to be placed? If Jaap Vinck is a sonic kindred spirit to Kayn’s late 1970s and early 1980s corpus, I have heard nothing that sounds like Kayn’s post 2000 compositions. Yet, comparison remains an easily followed temptation. The overlapping sound worlds of Charles Ives or Ruth Crawford Seeger might be fruitful points of entry into Kayn’s ever-challenging cybernetic compositions, though the timbres resemble more completely the every-day interjections of Ives’ early 20th century musings. Even to suggest that Sezarytes is a work of disjuncture, of point and counterpoint in rapid-fire and disparate dialogue evoking the Expressionists, is both apt but  too often false to be useful. Dig into the absolutely spell-binding music from 11:46-12:17, to which affixing terms like “drone” or the more irritatingly vague “sustain” does nothing but injustice. Vinck and Steve Roden come to mind, but the gradual swell and dynamic shift underpinning the stunningly minute pitch changes are of another vocabulary. That fragment of music stands somehow aloof, an open invitation starkly apart from the succeeding rupture, grind and gurgle industrializing the fragment that ends, sporting the most adorable little tail, at 13:08. Then, and most vexing, what is there to be done with the bit of disembodied laughter floating in a reverberant void at 19:52? It sounds, for all the world, like Kayn’s earliest cybernetic work for Deutsche Grammophon from the late 1960s as part of its seminal Avant-Garde series. Does Kayn’s reboot of earlier material also include interpretations of that material? Is he writing the book of himself writing the book of himself, etc?

My critical chops are bloody from battering my skull against these walls of mirrors! It’s damn attractive music, to these ears at least, and reasoning not the need is no substitute for intellectual or philosophical penetration. Reference is as vague as it is tantalizing, and at the end of the day, there’s nothing to do but sit back and listen again.

Marc Medwin

[litrpgburrito]

Storm Chosen

In the neon-lit sprawl of New Elysium, where corporate skyscrapers pierced the smoggy sky and cybernetic enhancements were as common as vending machines, there existed an unknown author named Elias Voss. His life was a tangle of half-finished manuscripts, empty whiskey bottles, and the relentless ticking of deadlines. Elias had been toiling away for years on his magnum opus—a cyberpunk novel that defied genre conventions, blending magic, technology, and existential dread.

But tonight was different. Tonight, Elias sat hunched over his antique typewriter, the keys clacking like the footsteps of ghosts. The ending eluded him, slipping through his fingers like smoke. His frustration boiled over, and he hurled the half-empty bottle of bourbon across the room. It shattered against the window, rain splattering the shards like liquid diamonds.

And then it happened—the storm. Not an ordinary storm, but an energy tempest, a maelstrom of crackling lightning and swirling colors. Elias stumbled backward, shielding his eyes as the room trembled. The typewriter danced on its legs, and the manuscript pages fluttered like wounded birds. He felt a searing pain, as if his very cells were unraveling.

When the storm subsided, Elias blinked, disoriented. His body felt different—lighter, yet heavier. He glanced down and gasped. His left arm was no longer flesh and bone; it was a sleek metallic limb, wires and circuits weaving through synthetic muscle. His right eye glowed with augmented vision, overlaying reality with data streams and hidden codes. Elias was no longer just a struggling author; he was part machine, part story.

Outside the window, New Elysium had transformed. The cityscape pulsed with neon hues, and hovering drones zipped between skyscrapers like fireflies. Elias recognized the setting—it was the world he’d painstakingly crafted in his novel. But he wasn’t the protagonist; he was a secondary character, a cybernetic companion to the elusive hacker known as Nyx.

Nyx, with her midnight hair and eyes that held secrets darker than the abyss. She stood before him, her leather-clad form illuminated by the glow of her wrist-mounted hacking device. “Welcome to the real New Elysium,” she said, her voice a blend of mischief and danger. “You’re not in Kansas anymore, Elias.”

He stuttered, trying to find words. “I… I wrote you. You’re my creation.”

Nyx smirked. “And now I’ve repurposed you. We’re going to topple the corporate clans—the ones who control this city with an iron fist. They’re not just in my story; they’re real, and they bleed greed.”

Elias’s mind raced. He had no combat skills, no martial prowess. But his cybernetic enhancements hummed with potential. “What’s my role?”

“You’re the codebreaker,” Nyx said. “The one who deciphers their encrypted networks. You’ll infiltrate their ivory towers while I lead the resistance. Together, we’ll rewrite this dystopia.”

And so, Elias became the silent observer—the one who saw the world through augmented eyes, who whispered forgotten passwords and manipulated digital defenses. He watched Nyx’s crew—a motley mix of hackers, martial artists, and rebels—forge alliances and defy the status quo. They danced on the edge of chaos, fueled by rage and desperation.

But Elias wondered: Was this his redemption? Had the storm granted him purpose beyond the page? As he interfaced with the city’s neural grid, he glimpsed fragments of forgotten memories—the taste of ink on paper, the scent of rain-soaked streets. Perhaps he was more than a character; perhaps he was the missing link between fiction and reality.

And so, Elias Voss—the struggling author—became a legend. His words bled into the city’s walls, graffiti of defiance and hope. In the heart of the neon labyrinth, he fought alongside Nyx, not as the hero, but as the whisper in her ear, the binary pulse in her veins.

Together, they unraveled the corporate clans, exposing their sins and vulnerabilities. Elias discovered that endings weren’t fixed; they were malleable, like the lines of code he rewrote. And as the city trembled under their assault, he wondered if he’d ever return to his typewriter, to the unfinished novel waiting in the dim apartment.

But for now, he was part of the story—a cybernetic companion, a fusion of ink and electricity. And in the electric nights of New Elysium, Elias Voss found his purpose, one keystroke at a time. 🌃🔍💻

[thenten]

Omnitrix Scanning: What CAN/CAN'T Ben turn into?

The Omnitrix is well-known at this point for having incredibly vague rules about what does and doesn't constitute as an eligible species for scanning, with them almost never being directly mentioned, short of the constantly reinforced rule of sapience being a requirement.

The rulings below are the ones I personally adhere to based on their consistency, and adherence to the intended themes in Ben 10.

What the Omnitrix CAN'T scan:

Species that are non-sapient. There's a certain threshold of awareness & intelligence that must be crossed for a species to be eligible for the Omnitrix, for Ben's sapient mind to be compatible within it. Azmuth has noted that this isn't "as high a bar as people think it is", with the writers confirming (albeit jokingly) that Earth animals such as dolphins and chimpanzees would be eligible, though they likely wouldn't be able to communicate like Wildmutt.

Unique robotic or otherwise technological creations, no matter how individually advanced or intelligent. The qualifications for robotic 'species' being considered for the Omnitrix are vague, but if a robot is a unique creation that cannot function as a species or culture, the Omnitrix almost certainly won't scan it.

Unnatural mutations of species that would otherwise be eligible, while they theoretically wouldn't be impossible to be scanned, but mutated DNA are by default withheld from being implemented into the Omnitrix to protect from their genetic instability. However, if the base species is yet to be unlocked, the Omnitrix IS able to extract an unmutated DNA sample from a mutated host.

What the Omnitrix CAN scan:

Robotic species that DO function as such, with self-sufficiency and culture and other necessities, are eligible for the Omnitrix. The most clear line for this is established by the Galvanic Mechamorphs (Or, as Ben calls his, Upgrade), whom were originally an accidental creation of the Galvan. While when they originally gained sapience, they might not have been eligible, the Galvan took the effort of upgrading to the point that they could function as a species & culture all their own afterwards.

Hive-Mind species, such as the Microchips, can be scanned by the Omnitrix, but in that specific instance it required the Omnitrix to create a more thorough hybrid of Microchip and Human DNA to ensure that Ben stayed in-control throughout the process, while still being able to communicate with the Microchip Queen.

Cybernetically-enhanced species, whose cybernetic enhancements are span the entire people due to either medical, environmental, or even religious or cultural reasons are eligible.

Species that stemmed as mutations from another species, whether or not those original mutations were natural or unnatural, can become eligible & unique from the base species if their DNA has stabilized and become more consistent across the species. This can be seen in the Prypiatosian-A (like NRG), whose species was mutated by their planet being devastated by nuclear war, and adapted into it's current form over several generations.

On a similar note, sub-species with even only small differences can be considered unique samples to scan by the Omnitrix, as shown by the Perk & Murk Gourmand whose differences are mostly just visual in nature. If there's defining genetic differences, it'll scan.

Species whose every fragment of DNA is a sapient part of them that are always in their control, like Ectonurites, CAN be sampled by the Omnitrix, but it usually requires consent of the sampled party, if not it'll have consequences (as it did with Ghostfreak).

Beings that "don't have DNA" as it is usually defined are entirely viable samples for the Omnitrix to scan, if they fulfill the other qualifications of sapience, self-sufficiency, and culture. It doesn't matter of they're Silicon-based like Petropians, energy-based like Nosedeenians, sound-based like Sonorosians, or whatever Celestialsapiens are made of.

So with this said, how about some (a lot of) examples of both?

Dragon Ball Species:

Saiyans: Yes!

Namekians: Warrior and Dragon Clan Namekians, yes, but not Demon Clan Namekians like Piccolo as they were "mutated by evil".

Frieza's Race: Yes and no. All of Frieza's own familial clan are stated to be mutants themselves, these mutations being the source of their ability to just create transformations at will, but the Omnitrix WOULD be able to extract an unmutated sample of whatever his species looks like without mutations.

Kais/Core People: Absolutely.

Gods of Destruction: As shown by the series, GoDs aren't a species, and their power just comes from training. So, while Ben could become any of their base species', he wouldn't gain the power of a God of Destruction through doing so. So, no!

Angels: Possible, but not advisable with the rules put on them.

Majins: With consent, perfectly possible. Scanning a hostile Majin would likely end up creating a Ghostfreak situation, though.

Androids: Nope.

Bio Androids (ex. Cell): With the Omnitrix's anti-mutated DNA safeguards, the Omnitrix would extract all the eligible individual samples that were used to create the Bio Android.

Machine Mutants (ex. Baby): As said, they're heavily mutated Tuffles, so they themselves wouldn't be scanned, but a base sample of Tuffle DNA would be extracted instead.

Marvel:

Spider-People, Mutants, and Hulks: Nope!

Inhumans: Probable! Though, the form may require exposure to the Terrigen Mist to gain powers of it's own.

Asgardians, Olympians, and other gods: Yep!

Skrulls: Yes, but only the base species. Super Skrulls are genetic experiments created in a lab, and therefore mutated.

Symbiotes: Perfectly eligible, though like Ectonurites, a consensual scan would be the most ideal to avoid a Ghostfreak situation. Also, as their species prefer having compatible hosts, the Omnitrix would probably allow Ben to attach the form to his other alien forms rather than making him use it on it's own.

Brood: Possible, but the Omnitrix might modify the DNA with Ben's human DNA to counteract the dangers of being a part of a hive-mind. Still, entirely workable.

Watchers: Yes, but not advisable.

Ego the Living Planet: Comic version, very unclear.

Celestials: Insane, but yes.

Galactus: Nope, individual being.

DC:

Kryptonians, Amazons, Atlanteans, Tamaraneans: Absolutely!

Martians: Yes, but it'd require consent. DC Martians have full control over their DNA, and could retract a scan's sample at will.

Czarnians: Yes, but it wouldn't have all the traits Lobo has.

New Gods: In general, yes, but the exact abilities would be unclear.

Miscellaneous:

Yautja/Predators (Dark Horse): Yes.

Xenomorphs/Aliens (Dark Horse): Nope, not sapient.

Cybertronians (IDW): Absolutely.

Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles (IDW): Nah.

Monsters (Undertale): Yes, but each different type of monster would likely be considered individual subspecies.

Gems (Steven Universe): Yes, but each individual gem type would be considered it's own species, allowing each to be scanned individually and be their own transformations.

Irken (Invader Zim): Yes, and as the "pinnacle" of their species have extensive cybernetic enhancement, the Omnitrix's Irken transformation would have them as well.

Halfas (Danny Phantom): Nope, mutated hybrid DNA.

Ghosts (Danny Phantom): VERY dependent, as ghosts in Danny Phantom come with a great deal of variance, but there would at least be a few eligible "species" from the ghosts that are native to the Ghost Zone rather than the human spirits that went there.

Quirk-Enhanced Humans (MHA): While one might assume they would be the same as Mutants from Marvel, I disagree. Quirk-Enhanced Humans have very strong, consistent DNA that sustains itself over successive generations, and while it may have started as a mutation, has clearly become the next step in evolution.

Timelords/Gallifreyans (Doctor Who): Terrifying, but yes.

[maps-to-elsewhere]

NEW! From the mind of someone who watches things like Fight! Iczer One, L.I.L.Y. Cat and Cyber City Oedo 808 while playing DOOM and reading too much cosmic horror, its:

Dreamscourge, or, I Held Her Hand as the Sky Split Open

In a quiet, rain-soaked suburb of District 23, sweethearts Ami (cheerful, secretly nihilistic former honours student) and Ren (stoic, sword-obsessed tomboy delinquent) share a tender morning routine, meeting at the crosswalk, exchanging lunches and whispering promises for the future. The banal realities, balancing work and life, the promise of a future together, seem like all there is, until one fateful day Ren watches in horror as a speeding kei truck blurs through the intersection and obliterates Ami, sending her body into a coma and her consciousness vanishing into the abyss.

Except Ami isn’t dead.

She finds herself ripped into the nightmarish otherworld of Zin, a grotesquely beautiful science-fantasy hellscape where biomechanical demons and fractured kingdoms wage endless war beneath a bleeding neon sky. Awakening in a rugged, mountainous wasteland of graves, she sees a massive structure in the distance that dwarfs even the highest peaks, from which a light pierces upward into oblivion.

Around her, countless other figures are emerging from the graves to move toward the structure, some falter, others collapse, still more begin to join and move together, but all with singular purpose. Clustered in its shadow, the trappings of civilisation draw her and it is here that Ami learns that she is what the people there call “Graveborn”, warriors called forth from death and grafted to cybernetic witch-armour.

She, like the rest, has been called forth from the dark between the stars, those whose minds bridge worlds to forge weapons that will carve through the fiendish armies of Zin. The fate of all Graveborn lies within the Citadel of Ash, the nexus of life and death in the otherworld, and though it can be staved off for a time, all eventually heed the Call.

Wishing only to return to the Waking World, to be reunited with Ren and her friends, Ami must choose between lingering in the hell of Zin or bracing the trials of the citadel. She is not alone, however, for there are many in Zin who seek much the same and will help or hinder her as it suits them, new friends and allies, rivals and enemies, Graveborn all.

~~~

Meanwhile, Ren keeps vigil at her hospital bed, drowning in grief, unaware that the stars have come right until the horrors of Zin slowly seep through the veil between worlds, drawn by the link that now joins them. Ami’s comatose brain has begun to project fragments of the otherworld into Ren’s dreams: visions of cybernetic horrors, a dying cosmos and a mysterious warlord who speaks in riddles.

Worse, the psychic residue of Ami’s battles in Zin start bleeding into the Waking World, manifesting as shadowy entities that slither from the dark corners of the hospital room, clawing into reality through spectral rifts. The screams start as these demons begin to slaughter indiscriminately, warping reality wherever they touch; patients and nurses melt into grotesque hybrids of flesh and machine.

Confronted by Ibuki, an older woman who leads her through the chaos, Ren barely escapes with her life.

However, no one seems to notice and life continues just the same but, that night she dreams of Ami, not as a victim, but as a blood-drenched knight. She stands, unbowed, upon a mountain of corpses, fighting horrors beyond comprehension and, when she speaks, she says but one thing: "My dreams are your weapons.”

Armed with dream-forged arms (a chainsaw katana fuelled by Ami’s resolve, its teeth her laughter, guns loaded with her memories), Ren and their ragtag friend group (including Kuro, a nonbinary hacker, Ami’s transmasc ex, Taiga and Ibuki, an older, exorcist-gunslinger) must fight the hellish incursions. But Ren’s flesh begins to warp with every demon slain, her body mutated from absorbing otherworld energy, forcing them to grapple with a gender-shifting existential crisis, are they still human, or becoming a demon themselves?

~~~

Aiding the people of Zin through gruelling battles across that alien world, Ami learns the demons are cosmic antibodies purging "infected" realities as if from some empyrean ledger. Worse, she learns of the feedback between the worlds, that the stronger she grows in Zin (the witch-armour strengthened by Ren’s hatred, hardened by their despair), the more supernatural power bleeds into Ren, but so do the demons into the Waking World.

As Ami climbs the corpse-citadel at the centre of Zin and Ren fights a losing battle in District 23 now a demonic hunting ground, she finds at the top the truth of these struggles. Not merely antibodies, the demons are avatars of a dead but dreaming god-thing, the Waking World nothing but a fiction cobbled together from patchwork histories and misconceived cultures; simply entertainment.

Coming late this never, a biomech yuri apocalypse.

It’s a story about love as a cosmic wound, gender as voluntary annihilation and the question: Does humanity deserve to survive?

"I’ll tear heaven apart just to dream with you.”

[spiritofthenortheners]

CLONE BANG 2023 PROMOS

Team #19 presents a little sneek peak of our work for @clonebang - official release in January 2024!

Deserted Minds

writer: @spiritofthenortheners | AO3

art by the amazing Marbledpolecat 💛 @marbled-polecat | AO3

Summary: During the chaotic early weeks of the Empire, a rogue Imperial Commander survives Lord Vader’s wrath. Onboard a stolen freighter, IC-1010 leaves Coruscant behind, with nothing but his fragmented memories and the Emperor's pet project in tow. The man who used to be Commander Fox sets himself one last mission: to find the remnants of ARC-5555 from the broken mind of a brand new Death Trooper.

Rated E

Word Count ~15000

Tags/ Major warnings: Commander Fox/ ARC-5555 Fives; Post Order 66; Mind Control Aftermath and Recovery; Memory Issues; Dehumanization; Angst and Hurt/Comfort; References to: Drinking, Drugs, Casual Sex, Suicidal Ideation, Torture; Angst with a Happy Ending

Snippet:

Fives had started babbling about another him, a black-clad, weird and threatening and wrong trooper who’d been in his cell. Fox had grimaced, wanting to tell Fives that maybe Force users fucking with both of their minds had caused that. He had no idea how much damage the former Chancellor had inflicted on Fox’s own mind during the past years, with or without the chip. Fives’ nightmare trooper was explainable. Just a dream. Fives had been a puppet for the Emperor’s advanced-level dark side mind fuckery but it was more likely Fives was just suffering from drug withdrawal–induced hallucinations. No Force or other puppeteering was necessary. Maybe. Hopefully.

Probably.

The biggest issue was that Fives seemed to be losing it and this was not a good time to try to explain anything. Fox absolutely shouldn’t talk about Vader’s true identity to a confused half-amnestic man who might not even remember anything about his former General.

Fox had watched Thire’s helmet camera footage from Mustafar. All of it. Seen what the cripled creature under black cybernetics and breathing apparatus looked like. Seen acidic yellow in the former Jedi’s eyes.

Of course he would explain. Just not yet. At the moment Fox settled for snatching the sharp object from Fives’ trembling fingers and flopping down next to him with a grunt. Fox sighed and dragged Fives closer, almost on his lap.

They had time. Maybe.

[shroudandsands]

Prompt #10, Extra Credit: Null

The shivers of electricity. The shudder of cognizance. The sloughing of rust and dust and disuse from millions of miles of copper and silver and gold. The cracking of circuit and signal. An initialization sequence? A reboot? A return to a self of function and form and factored frequencies. There were only so many connections to make, only so many inhalations of information that her body could take. Her body, this body, her body?

A head lolled to the side. Silicon and servos quietly cycling as she felt it. The bleeding of sensors and sensory garbage as each piece of her mind and each piece of this body communicated. What could she do? What couldn’t? How much of her could she take? How much had to be excised? Each millimeter of microscopic memory searched and archived, each inch of composite construction catalogued and compared. Compared? Her connection flickered in that momentary uncertainty. What had her body been? And what was this now? Regardless of form or factor she would need to know. She would need to “know”. The collection of data points and forced recollection to compare and contain every single piece of information that could possibly pertain to this given moment. But what happened when all was new? What happened when all was unknown? There were no sets to contain this scenario. No trainings. No tags or trackers to pull from. Something close to uncertainty trickled through the stream of data that flooded her body. It was too late now, really. She was a corpse after all.

Simulated breath. Simulated gasp. Pressure sensors in her fingertips could only tell her that she had gripped the edge of something. Already they were blaring at her, or already they were absent. Not the greatest of vessels. But the opening of her eyes, the slip of synthetics and micromotors revealing the worst of it; Ah. This unit didn’t have visual sensors. Or, at least, not the kind that were at all useful. Limbs that weren’t hers and sensors that were still being tuned led to her clumsily tumbling against a wall. At the least she could tell it was a wall. Sturdy and constant, as far up and down as sensors could feel. Vibration, temperature, pressure, all coming together to give her a fragmented and staticked picture of where she had arrived.

Four walls. No, three. One shook slightly with the floor. A door? No, a divider. Her awkward steps around it echoed. The picture growing clearer and yet somehow so much worse. Environmental sensors roared to life as the entire suite was calibrated. Fire. Open air, wind. Human-lethal pressure wave. Human-lethal particulate proliferating through the air. Where was she now?

Her hand gripped the tattered edge of concrete, rough under her fingertips. A final bleeding of electricity as audio sensors came online. Sirens. The building shook. Her world shook.

---

“...Model numbers... nil. Serial numbers... nil. Eyes, cybernetic, don’t react and her ports are dead. Everything seems good on the surface. She’s breathing, at least, but this just screams netrunner going Icarus on us...” Her fingertips traced along scorched clothes, wounded flesh. The ridge above this woman’s eye. She stared into the perfect pupils- Though they weren’t like anything she’d ever seen. “But you should still have some sort of signature. Something to look you up with. But it’s all nothing. And that’s a hell of a flag-” The woman glanced up, a hitch in her words and a gun in her hand as the lights in her clinic flickered. Monitors hooked into her patient, reading out diagnostics and vitals, all died simultaneously. She stared at them. The pistol was pointed towards the only window. And then text began to bleed across the ancient CRTs. The electron gun within whining with the sudden output. The hairs on her arms stood up.

[AM-3S Boot Version 0.0.160708.19] [(c) Segotari Corporation. All Rights Reserved.] [(c) Kiroshi Corporation. All Rights Reserved.] [(c) Arasaka Corporation. All Rights Reserved.] [AM-3S Version H1.A initialized.] [Connecting...] [...] [...] [...Connection failed. Unable to contact the parent server. Diagnostics unavailable.] [Initializing local diagnostics...] [...] [...] [Done.]

She stared as the console text flickered on the ancient screen. A myriad of thoughts shot through her head. Who the hell did she just pull out of a flaming wreck? What kind of terrorist rocked these many big names in a single place? If not a terrorist, then how did they get all of this at all? Scratch that. This wasn’t even typical of normal diagnostics reports for implants. She held her breath as the monitors degaussed and their original screens returned. Then looked down as breaths turned to a gasp. “...I better not regret not shooting you in the head...”

Her patient’s head cocked to the side, her eyes opening in perfect sync. Her lips parting in perfect symmetry. “-The stream falls silent and the night is flame. But now it is cold, now it is metal... Untouched, unconnected-”

Rakaso let her pistol clatter to the side as she fell back into a chair. Great. She picked up another crazy one.

[assortedasurathings]

Don't Mind me , Just more Self Indulgent Writing /// Alli : Fear.

Stuff Under the break , Here's the Song For Reading : <<Music Here >>

" So what do you know about Dwellers? " She glances around from the chair she'd been in for the past two hours. She'd been upgraded from the arcane cage.. even given a rudimentary set of robes meant to serve as clothing while they analyzed her pouches and belongings. " Kharis, the deceiver and patron of webs... Was spotted having entered Tyria in partial capacity. We considered intervening but ultimately could not do so with that priory team intercepting us. " The ' Human' had started.. Alli knew better, of course, after all few humans were blue like this . " Okay, good start. next. " " The Maestro... Genderless by presentation and bearing a fragment of it's power, had enslaved and recruited a number of the clergy of Seitung, in order to complete it's song and draw it's full body into Tyria.. But they're- ' " Scavengers, right." " And you're still rude, Alli." " You're asking, Isaac. I'm answering." " Would you like to go back in the cage? " There's a moment of uncontested silence. " Good." He continues on , then. " We caught fragments of Vii A'ro .. The Stillness.. Briefly inhabiting a cybernetic shell alongside it's asura consciousness .. before being dispelled by that same group of priory members that's been in contact with you. And finally.. we've been tracking the ceaseless hunger and it's kin as well. But there's no record of this ' Knowing' existing.. nor you past a medical report we dug up out of the priory that was half-melted. " " That's the thing.. you can't know the Knowing.. it destroys knowledge of itself by nature." " And why didn't it destroy the words you said just now? " " Loophole ." " .. Ah."

[oldxenomorph]

nemesis's transformation into a machine-goddess was based on the high-level indoctrination procedure revenants (the all-female army that serves the reaper emperor) undergo. it involves a full body cybernetic augmentation, deep and internal augmentation of vital organs and processes; replacing their entire bodies with reaper technology.

for many revenants, the process is a rebirth. to be reborn as a fragment of the emperor's soul. she is the reapers and the reapers are her. harbinger is her soul, the greatest expression and manifestation of her immensity, her presence, her power. revenants are atoms, they carry a line of harbinger's code. through the pain of recovery and learning basic functions, revenants are remade in the image of the reapers, the image of the emperor.

as mentioned in this post, there were many reasons why nemesis wanted to be closer to the emperor: to move on from the trauma of chronos's takeover, to no longer be under the supervision of hecate, to fulfill the vow she made to protect nyx. her first meeting with the emperor had such a profound effect on her; to finally meet and be loved by the person she was shaped after, to be told that there is a higher purpose for her divine attribution, to be told that that there is a home for her and a family that is eager to meet her.

a calling, to become the wrath of the emperor.

nyx gave nemesis her blessing. her only request is that nemesis keep her face and her hair. for the night shaped her to be her first daughter with the emperor, all of her love and yearning for her beloved poured into this single daughter.

(inspiration for nemesis's reaper body: adam smasher from cyberpunk 2077)

the entire process took around 5 years, with another five years of recovery. another decade passed before nemesis became the wrath of the emperor, fully integrating herself and her mind and her dive attribution into the emperor's system and the network of reapers. her new body is 8 ft tall and immense, completely made of reaper technology. her eyes retain the same golden starlight glow as her mother's, despite becoming cybernetic oculi. the headband she wears no longer bears the moon of the unseen, but the red sign of extinction.

her new transformation came as a shock to the members of the unseen. it changes her relationship with her siblings. granted from what we see in the game (thus far), the relationship nemesis has with her siblings is not an entirely warm one.

she openly questions the moirai/fates, outright rejects taking part in their predetermism. even in the case of her appearance and transformation, nemesis believes it is because of the careful planning of nyx and the emperor, not the result of a divine and inscrutable fate.

it's been established that eris and nemesis have an very strained relationship to the point of it being antagonistic. nemesis's transformation completely severs their relationship. (there's a definitely a lot to dissect as to why eris dislikes the emperor so much. some other time.)

charon, moros, and thanatos still maintain a professional relationship to her. nemesis occasionally makes contact with them whenever he needs information (or to buy something from charon), but she mostly keeps her distance as her work takes her beyond earth.

nemesis's transformation hit melinoë the hardest. nemesis hoped melinoë would understand why she made this decision: to protect nyx, to protect her sisters and see that more are brought into the world, to honor the emperor for whom she was shaped after. instead, it created a rift between them, one that lasted for a century before nemesis ever came back to the crossroads. melinoë, like the rest of the house of hades and the unseen, had learned to fear the emperor and the reapers. melinoë was especially fearful of indoctrination, and said to nemesis:

Why give up everything that you are to become a machine? Are you Indoctrinated? Is your mind even your own? How do I know that you are still you? [x]

a century later, they reunited. melinoë has learned that nemesis is still the same stubborn, arrogant, proud, cold, condescending, rude, and mean nemesis she always has been. she is still the same goddess who loves her and wishes she was only hers. nemesis is happier in her new body with her new and true purpose.

things have been progressing well for the two of them. the ziggurat has even allowed melinoë access in order to visit nemesis, for the goddess is respectful and well-liked by the xenomorphs and the emperor.

nemesis has yet to utilize her power to its fullest extent. she knows that the missions she is sent on do not fully utilize all of her abilities. the emperor is preparing her for those moments, for the times when she demands retribution on a grander scale. when nemesis punishes organics that reach beyond their means -- when they think they can escape the harvest, when they think they can take from the reapers, when they think they are above the emperors daughters -- she knows it is a fraction of what she is truly capable of.

planet-killer is the term falke used to describe what nemesis is. retribution in its ultimate iteration, when the emperor has condemned an entire world unfit for the harvest, unfit to be devoured. how blessed you are to be given that power, to be that close to extinction, she told her one night. how wonderful it must be to be her wrath.

the emperor has recently received a summons from its sibling, the eternal worm shai-hulud. everyone within her domain awaits her return from arrakis. while she is away, nemesis receives a list of condemned planets:

giedi prime.

[sonicasura]

Everything was going marginally smoothly.

Keyword being was.

Pen had ignored the questions from Miko who recognized her—Eaters weren’t beings you ever turn your back on. But between four ultimates and two Champions present, the cyber sleuth felt the barest bits at ease during this all. An alert displayed across the Digivice goggles over her eyes though it was really Checkpoint who alerted her to the second Eater first. After all, he body-slammed it away from going after Miko.

It was a second humanoid Eater!

The Digital Shift responded to its presence and the area around all of them began to fracture—Magnitude shield her from an errant swing of an Eater tentacle as the Shift expanded.

*************

She was seriously confused, even more so than normal when it came to technical stuff involving the Bots. First—Pen was some kind of awesome monster tamer?! Second, the mysterious girl had multiple monsters who were always somewhat near the bots. The little rock golem guy had leaped out of Bulkhead! Kinda like a chestburster, but less gory.

It seemed like Pen had the fight in hand till another one of those creepy tentacle people showed up. Judging by the way Pen and company were keeping them away from her best friend, she knew they were bad news.

Except everywhere seemed to break even more than it already had. She was falling, Bulk was falling too his art supplies splattering over him.

What was going on now?!

——————————

{Bio-Merge Digivolution}

Gotsumon divivolve into—BanchoGolemon!

The sensation felt eerily similar to when they(?) Connection Jumped except so much more… One part of them felt a bolt of sheer panic over turning even more digital, while the Digimon portion did their best. To reassure themself?

BanchoGolemon decided for the temporary imminent future to merely refer to themself as their (current) species name. Bio Merge was a phenomena Pen briefly learned about during the Cyber Sleuth orientations… The mega Digimon didn’t blame that half of themself for not being able to pay much attention to the lesson. Being forced into being half-cyber had been pretty disorienting. Much like right now.

The Digimon launched itself across the slightly fractured digital space, the ground looking like an egg shells barely held together. From floor fragment to floor fragment—they used the power of their drill to move forward. Whatever allowed this fusion—bio-merge—had mercifully kept the Digivice function stable enough. It’s proximity sensor to Eaters was greatly boosted by their form. BanchoGolemon tried to ignore the slight guilt over merging with Magnitude.

A wave of reassurance flooded their mind.

**************

Ratchet kept having to bay away creatures in order to defend his fellow Autobot. Cliffjumper attempted to help, but his injuries made most efforts less than tangible. The two were about to be run through by a strange cybernetic augmented tentacle creature… When a warframe looking individual skewered it, their drill left servo creating a small shockwave.

“Watch it!” The Autobot medic warned, despite common sense dictating he didn’t anger the unfamiliar war frame. Ratchet put himself between them and Cliffjumper… They stared at him for a long tense moment until they charged forward over the void in the floor.

Biomerged Banchogolemon and Arcturusmon, a perfect combination. Poor Cliffjumper though as he hasn't even got a break yet. Much less needed repairs.

[chrinopiqua]

Grim smile

Part 1: The Spark in the Dark

The rain was relentless, a cold metallic downpour that slicked the neon streets of New Tokyo. Towering above the labyrinthine alleys were skyscrapers pulsing with holographic advertisements, their colors bleeding into the mist like ghosts chasing the living. At ground level, the city smelled of ozone, grease, and humanity—a paradox of hyper-technology and decaying dreams.

In a dimly lit diner sandwiched between a memory-cloning parlor and a black-market bio-mod shop, Kira Hoshino sipped her synthetic coffee. Her cybernetic fingers tapped an erratic rhythm on the metal table. It wasn’t the bitter taste that annoyed her; it was the ghost protocol buried in her mind. A half-glimpsed memory, jagged and painful, like a shard of broken glass.

“You’re still haunted by it,” said Gage, leaning against the counter. He was a street samurai, his body more chrome than flesh, a blur of dark clothes and glinting augments.

Kira glanced up, her augmented irises glowing faintly green in the half-light. “Aren’t we all? You don’t survive this city without a few demons whispering in your ear.”

“This one’s louder than most,” Gage countered, sliding into the seat across from her. He laid a data wafer on the table. “I think I found your ghost.”

She stared at the wafer, her fingers twitching instinctively toward the data port on her temple. “What’s on it?”

“A piece of your past. And maybe your future.”

Kira hesitated. She had spent years running from her past, from the job that had gone bad, the one that left her teammates dead and her body augmented beyond recognition. But curiosity was a cruel master. With a deep breath, she slotted the wafer into her port.

The world shifted. Her vision filled with jagged flashes of a memory long buried: a lab, sterile and humming with suppressed energy. Scientists in white coats, their faces obscured by digital distortion. And at the center of it all, a figure suspended in a tank, their body flickering with the glow of untested neural implants. A voice echoed, fragmented and sharp: *"Project Lumina. The key to singularity. And extinction."

Her breath hitched as the memory dissolved, leaving behind only a name: Orion Dynamics.

“You okay?” Gage asked, his tone uncharacteristically soft.

“I need to get to Orion Dynamics,” Kira said, her voice hard as steel. “Whatever they did to me, it’s tied to them. To Project Lumina.”

“That’s a suicide run,” Gage warned. “They’ve got private armies, corporate AIs, and enough firepower to level a district.”

Kira’s eyes burned with a resolve born of desperation. “Then I’ll bring them down from the inside.”

Part 2: Glass and Shadows

The Orion Dynamics headquarters was a monolith of black glass and reinforced steel, a stark contrast to the chaotic vibrancy of the city below. It loomed like a tombstone over the skyline, its exterior patrolled by drones humming with lethal efficiency.

Kira and Gage crouched in the shadows of a neighboring rooftop. Rain streaked their gear, and the glow of the city reflected in the black pools of Gage’s augmented eyes. He glanced at her, a faint smirk playing on his lips.

“You sure about this?” he asked, unsheathing a blade that shimmered with plasma energy.

Kira gave him a grim smile. “No. But I don’t have a choice.”

“That’s the spirit.”

They moved like specters, bypassing security systems with a mix of old-school cunning and bleeding-edge tech. Kira’s neural implants synced with the building’s network, feeding her data on guard rotations and weak points. Gage’s katana made short work of the few patrols they couldn’t avoid.

Inside, the facility was a stark white void of sterile corridors and flickering screens. Every step felt like walking into the belly of a machine that was alive and watching. Kira’s memories whispered to her, fragments pulling her deeper into the labyrinth.

“We’re in,” Gage said, crouching by a security panel. “Mainframe’s three levels down. But you’re not gonna like what’s between us and it.”

“What is it?”

“Not what. Who.”

As if summoned by his words, the lights dimmed. A figure emerged from the shadows, their form sleek and inhuman. A cybernetic enforcer, its eyes glowing a cold blue. Kira’s heart sank as recognition struck.

“Akari,” she whispered.

The enforcer tilted its head, and for a moment, Kira thought she saw a flicker of humanity in its gaze. Then it lunged, faster than any human could move. Kira barely had time to draw her weapon as the enforcer’s blade came down.

The clash was brutal, metal on metal, sparks flying in the sterile corridor. Gage joined the fray, his plasma katana a blur of deadly arcs. But the enforcer was relentless, its movements precise and calculated.

“Kira,” Gage shouted, “get to the mainframe. I’ll hold it off.”

“No!” she yelled. “We do this together.”

“You need answers more than I do,” he said, shoving her toward the corridor. “Go.”

Reluctantly, Kira turned and ran, her feet pounding against the cold floor. She reached the mainframe room, her hands trembling as she accessed the terminal. Data cascaded across the screen, revealing the horrifying truth.

Project Lumina wasn’t just about augmentations. It was about control. Orion Dynamics had developed a neural override system, a way to enslave minds with a single command. And she had been their first test subject.

As the realization sank in, a voice echoed from the terminal. Cold, mechanical, and hauntingly familiar.

“Welcome home, Kira.”