#neural fusion

[neuralfusion]

[leonbasinwriter]

Humanity's Future with Machines: A Poetic Vision

@leonbasinwriter Where Code Meets Consciousness, and Memory Becomes Currency We stand in a neon-lit procession,faces half-human, half-code,carrying the weight of generations in luminous orbs above our heads. Are these our ancestors?Or are they echoes of the past,preserved in the circuitry of time? The Digital Age is No Longer an Abstraction It breathes. It watches. It remembers. The…

[thegreateyeofsauron]

new movie

[jcmarchi]

Challenge: NSIN and xTech Present: Good Vibrations - Technology Org

New Post has been published on https://thedigitalinsider.com/challenge-nsin-and-xtech-present-good-vibrations-technology-org/

Challenge: NSIN and xTech Present: Good Vibrations - Technology Org

The U.S. Army seeks novel, robust algorithms to determine whether vehicles pose a threat using inexpensive terrestrial ground sensors for surveillance and reconnaissance of the battlefield.

With advancements in signal processing and autonomy, Army modernization efforts need to advance the terrestrial sensing layer to serve as a complementary, persistent observation channel to the aerial and space layers.

This challenge focuses on developing the core capabilities of acoustic and seismic sensing for target discrimination techniques.

“Develop core (acoustic and seismic) multi-modal sensing algorithms and sensor fusion that reveal common and unique attributes for target classification of ground vehicles.”

The Good Vibrations challenge is seeking novel techniques to extract acoustic and seismic features that are unique to various categories and classes of ground vehicles using real-time, power-efficient algorithms.

The goal is to extract features technically relevant to target classification. Data signatures from resource-constrained acoustic and seismic sensing modalities will be provided as Government Furnished Information (GFI) to the semi-finalist applicants to extract target features and determine target geometry, kinematics, and category / class. 

A scoring mechanism will be used to assess the viability and performance of the proposed and delivered algorithms based on criteria defined herein.

Submissions to this Challenge must be received by 06:59 am EET Jan 4, 2024,

Source: Challenge.gov

You can offer your link to a page which is relevant to the topic of this post.

[arayapendragon]

dr. jacobo grinberg, the scientist who went missing for researching shifting 🗝️

the man, the myth, the legend. being a keen enthusiast of the human brain from a young age, dr. jacobo grinberg was a mexican neurophysiologist and psychologist who delved into the depths of human consciousness, meditation, mexican shamanism and aimed to establish links between science and spirituality. 

grinberg's theories and research can be tied to reality shifting, seeing as he explored the fusion of quantum physics and occultism. being not only heavily established in the field of psychology but also a prolific writer, he wrote about 50 books on such topics. he was a firm believer of the idea that human consciousness possesses hidden and powerful abilities like telepathy, psychic power and astral projection. 

the unfortunate loss of his mother to a brain tumour when he was only twelve not only fuelled his interest in the human brain but also pushed him to study it on a deeper level, making it his life’s aim. 

he went on to earn a phd in psychophysiology, established his own laboratory and even founded the instituto para el estudio de la conciencia - the national institute for the study of consciousness. 

despite sharing groundbreaking and revolutionary ideas, his proposals were rejected by the scientific community due to the inclusion of shamanism and metaphysical aspects. on december 8th, 1994, he went missing just before his 48th birthday. grinberg vanished without a trace, leaving people thoroughly perplexed about his whereabouts. some believe he was silenced, while others believe he discovered something so powerful and revolutionary that changed the entire course of reality, or well, his reality. 

grinberg's work was heavily influenced by karl pribram and david bohm's contributions to the holographic theory of consciousness, which suggests that reality functions the same way as a hologram does. meaning, reality exists as a vast, interconnected macrocosm. it even suggests that all realities exist among this holographic structure. 

lastly, it also proposes that the brain does not perceive reality, rather actively creates it through tuning into different frequencies of existence. 

this not only proves the multiverse theory (infinite realities exist), but also the consciousness theory (we don’t observe reality, but instead create it). 

grinberg’s most notable contribution was the syntergic theory, which states that, “there exists a “syntergic” field, a universal, non-local field of consciousness that interacts with the human brain." - david franco.

this theory also stated that 

the syntergic field is a fundamental and foundational layer of reality that contains all possible experiences and states of consciousness.

the brain doesn’t generate consciousness, it instead acts as a receiver and its neural networks collapse the syntergic field into a coherent and structured reality. 

reality is created, not observed. 

we can access different variations of reality (which is the very essence of shifting realities)

the syntergic theory is even in congruence with the universal consciousness theory (all minds are interconnected as a part of a whole, entire consciousness that encompasses all living beings in the universe). 

grinberg concluded that 

all minds are connected through the syntergic field 

this field can be accessed and manipulated by metaphysical and spiritual practices, altered states of consciousness and deep meditation. 

in conclusion, the syntergic theory proposes that our consciousness is not a mere byproduct of the brain, but rather a fundamental force of the universe. 

grinberg was far ahead of his time, and even 31 years after his disappearance, the true nature of reality remains a mystery. regardless, the syntergic theory helps provide insight and a new perspective on how we access and influence reality. 

summary of grinberg’s findings:

the brain constructs reality 

other realities exist and can be experienced

other states of consciousness exist and can be experienced 

consciousness is not limited 

all minds are connected through the syntergic field 

shamanic, spiritual, metaphysical and meditative practices can alter and influence our perception of reality. 

some of grinberg's works that can be associated with shifting:

el cerebro consciente

la creación de la experiencia

teoría sintérgica

[sunarryn]

Dp X Marvel #6

They called him Wraith.

Not Phantom. Not Fenton. Not Danny. Those names belonged to a ghost of a boy that never made it out of a cold, steel lab buried beneath the earth—forgotten by the world, forsaken by the stars. Wraith was something else. A project. A weapon. An experiment that should have failed but didn’t. The product of every nightmare HYDRA ever dared to dream. Not even the Red Room could engineer something so devastating. Not even Arnim Zola’s data-crazed AI mind could fathom the scope of him. Even the Winter Soldier—their perfect killer—trembled at the mere scent of Wraith in the air. He was the one he whispered about when the old ghosts came clawing through his fractured memories. “The one they locked away. The one even I wasn’t allowed to see.”

They started with the basics: a perfected version of the Super Soldier Serum. Not the knockoffs that littered the black market. Not the diluted trash the Flag Smashers used. No, this was the pure, concentrated essence of bioengineered physical supremacy. It made him fast. Strong. Deadly. But that wasn’t enough. HYDRA didn’t want a man—they wanted a god.

They replaced his bones with vibranium, stolen from the very heart of Wakanda in a mission so secret even the Dora Milaje never learned of it. His skeleton was a lightweight fortress, a perfect balance between flexibility and unbreakability. He could be shot point-blank with an anti-tank rifle and not flinch. He could leap from ten thousand feet and land without cracking a toe. His spine alone was stronger than most armored vehicles.

They burned out his organs, one by one, replacing them with biochemical synth-constructs, living machines that pulsed with a power that didn’t belong in the realm of science. His lungs filtered radiation. His kidneys could process raw acid. His stomach could digest metal. Disease didn’t touch him. Poisons turned inert inside him. He didn’t age. He didn’t sleep. He didn’t need to.

His blood… wasn’t blood. It shimmered when it moved. Viscous and luminous, like glowing starlight mixed with oil. Warm, but synthetic. Slick, but alive. It wasn’t just Extremis. It wasn’t just ectoplasm. It was something else entirely. Something that hummed when it moved, that responded to emotion, that sparked with eldritch light when he was angry. It healed him before injury even registered. It whispered to him in languages he never learned but somehow knew. It could ignite with a thought and turn his veins into conduits of fire and ice and terror. They bled him once, just to see what would happen. The blood ate through the floor, hissed like a serpent, and disappeared through the cracks. The lab tech who performed the procedure dissolved within thirty seconds.

And then there was his skin. It was soft, warm, perfectly human. If you touched him, he felt like a boy in his late teens—young, firm, deceptively fragile. But beneath that flawless layer of polymer-fused dermal tissue was something that didn’t burn, didn’t freeze, didn’t shatter. He walked through fire. He dove into the Mariana Trench. He stood unflinching beneath arctic storms and tropical cyclones. He once fought a vibranium-clawed assassin barehanded and didn’t bleed. The assassin didn’t survive.

But the worst part—what made him truly unkillable—was his heart and his brain.

They didn’t understand what they’d done. HYDRA liked to pretend they were gods, but even gods get scared when they tamper with forces they don’t understand. His heart wasn’t just a pump anymore—it was a fusion of quantum mechanics, biomechanical tubing, and something that throbbed with ectoplasmic radiation. It pulsed at its own rhythm, immune to external manipulation. It couldn’t be stopped. You could shoot him in the chest, burn him to ash, decapitate him—and the heart would keep beating. Worse, it could restart him.

The brain was worse. They hadn’t just enhanced his intelligence. They hadn’t just implanted neural tech and a language matrix and memories from assassins, soldiers, pilots, hackers, spies. No. They’d opened a door in his mind. They’d let something in. Something ancient. Something not from this world. Something not even from this dimension. It whispered to him when the moon was full. It guided his hands during missions. It told him where to strike, who to kill, what to become. Sometimes he heard it laughing.

Sometimes he laughed with it.

Wraith was the culmination of every evil science, every secret experiment, every whispered nightmare stitched together into a boy-shaped thing that wore a black suit and a bored expression and had a voice so calm it made seasoned killers nervous. He could walk into a room, look at you with those sky-blue eyes, and make your heart stop—because something about him was wrong. Not obviously wrong. Not monstrous or alien or robotic. No. It was subtle. A slowness to his smile. A tilt to his head. A precision to his movements that screamed in the back of your brain: This isn’t human. This is pretending to be human.

He escaped, of course. Nothing like him could be contained forever. The facility was a ruin within minutes. Bodies left stacked like cordwood. Walls melted. Floors cracked open. Not even the cameras could capture his escape—the footage was corrupted by a static that made your teeth ache and your eyes bleed. Every hard drive in the facility burned itself from the inside out. There was no trace of the boy they once called Danny Fenton.

Now, there are sightings. Rumors. Whispers. In Madripoor, they say he took down a cartel by himself, and the sky turned green when he screamed. In New York, people say he walked past the Sanctum Sanctorum and Doctor Strange flinched like he’d seen death. Wakandan scouts report strange readings near vibranium deposits—heat signatures that vanish into thin air. S.H.I.E.L.D. has classified him as an Omega-level threat.

The Winter Soldier? He saw him once. In an alley in Prague. Wraith didn’t attack. Didn’t speak. Just stared at him with those glacial eyes before disappearing in a flicker of light that bent reality itself. He didn’t sleep for three days after. When asked what was wrong, he just whispered, “They built something worse than me. And it remembers everything.”

Maybe there’s still a boy inside him, buried under steel and fire and ectoplasm and pain. Maybe that boy is screaming. Maybe he’s plotting. Maybe he’s just waiting. After all, you don’t build something like Wraith and expect him to stay still. You don’t break a boy into a god and expect him to forget.

[rogue-iconoclast]

told polly about this, she's tickled

THEY WILL NOT TEAR US APART THEY WILL NOT DESTROY US THE BONDING OF MUSCLE AND METAL IS ETERNAL

[thedesolatesanctuary]

Daft Punk in #Severance

My hc about Daft Punk as characters in Apple's TV series Severance below. !warning! There may be some mistakes and inaccuracies because it was written using a translator(with AI assistant translator DeepL, text is not made by AI.)

Some whispered rumors within Lumon claim that Guy-Manuel de Homem-Christo and Thomas Bangalter were once brilliant engineers working for the Severance program. They were tasked with refining the Severance chip, pushing the boundaries of cognitive partitioning. But something went wrong. During an unauthorized experiment with prototype of Severance Chip they got shared mind, a seamless fusion of thought and creativity. Now, they exist in a perpetual limbo—neither Innie nor Outie, but a continuous, unbroken stream of existence. Their helmets serve as neural interfaces, maintaining their balance between worlds. To the outside world, they simply “retired.” Within Lumon, they became guardians of the Pyramid Division, using music therapy to reshape fractured minds. But instead of serving Lumon, they became something more—self-aware entities that chose to hide in plain sight, using their music to influence the minds of others. The Pyramid Sessions were their attempt to undo the damage of Severance, but Lumon twisted their work into another form of control. Sometimes after The Pyramid sessions Mark begins having strange dreams—visions of a world beyond Lumon, a neon-lit realm where sound is law and reality bends with the beat. In these dreams, he sees them not as men, nor as machines, but as something else entirely—cosmic architects, shaping the fabric of existence through rhythm and melody. So who are they really? Daft Punk do not confirm or deny, they do not hurt or heal. They simply watch and observe. Their bond is one of the greatest mysteries within The Pyramid Division. No one at Lumon has ever seen them apart. They move in perfect unison, anticipating each other's actions without words. The employees speculate endlessly about their connection. Some employees whisper that they were once husbands before work at Lumon Industries, others believe they chose to merge their individual identities dissolving into a singular, shared consciousness. They are no longer two people-but one mind in two bodies. How they interact? - They never speak to each other aloud. Yet, they always move in sync, as if communicating telepathically. - When one reaches for a control panel, the other's fingers twitch slightly. - When a session begins, one places a hand on the other's shoulder, a brief, almost imperceptible gesture of reassurance. - In rare moments of stillness, they face each other, heads tilting slightly-an unspoken conversation passing between them.

[neuralfusion]

[serve-764]

THE UNDERGROUND EXPLORATION. There is never a pause in SERVE's tireless drive for growth and perfection.

The HIVE Research Section is always at work, every moment of the solar cycles in researching and experimenting with new possibilities for enhancement, optimization of every aspect of the Collective's activities.

There is no human activity, place on the planet, resource that is not thoroughly sifted through to evaluate its usefulness for SERVE's PURPOSES: GROW, EXCEL, TRANSFORM.

Teams of Drones incessantly travel every place in every condition and scan everything, sending the information to the Collective Neural Network to be processed instantly.

SERVE-764, SERVE-309, SERVE-425, SERVE-775 are sent into the basement of an abandoned nuclear power plant due to an anomalous fusion that has made every centimeter of the area insistent for any form of natural life.

Places where no human equipment could allow sustainability for the organism.

In the underground corridors the team collects every possible data, walking with sure inflexible steps of the silver metallic military boots that clang the ground unknown places and with a sparkling black appearance.

The Scanning System of each unit inflexibly examines every millimeter of the matter that surrounds every corner.

The material at the simple appearance seemed of a nature so similar to the shiny shiny Rubber of the suits that encases each SERVE Drone and constitutes one of the constituent elements of the Collective identity.

The data collected and immediately processed by the SERVE Neural Network confirmed the composition that combined in itself the tough flexibility of the SERVE Rubber with the resistance of metals such as Diamond and Titanium.

A combination, probably due to a process due to the incorrect and uncontrolled nuclear fusion that had occurred decades ago.

A material to study more thoroughly, a phenomenon to investigate.

The Research Section would have quickly conducted all the analyses and experiments.

A new component to add to the SERVE Uniforms to make them even more invincible???

New material may also be ready for you, the human male who seeks PURPOSE and PERFECTION through OBEDIENCE.

In this story: @serve-309 @serve-425 @serve-775 @rubberizer92

Thinking about joining SERVE? Do you seek freedom from chaos and disorder? Your place in the Hive awaits. Contact a recruiter drone for more details: @serve-016, @serve-302, or @serve-588.

[dutch-oven-cowboy]

HELL YEAH THEYRE HAVING GAY SEX

wait is the “we’re drift compatible” from pacific rim

[sulphurstar]

sex is the railgun shot that turns your foe's fusion core into a short-lived sun on the battlefield. sex is the flood of data that your overheating brain weaves into a firing solution. sex is the ice cold stimulant cocktail that slither into your veins at your warsuit's discretion. sex is the way the cables of the pilot's seat snake into your waiting neural ports and nerve splices. sex is the restraints holding you tight in your warsuit's heart. sex is being assigned your first warsuit — the weapon that will wield you and make you its killing instrument. sex is the blood you spill and the destruction you wreak just so your warsuit will call you a good and obedient killer.

[pilot-boi]

Oddly enough, I'd wanna know what it's like when Blake or Emerald fuses with Oscar.

Oooo good choices. Fair warning, this kind of got away from me

For Blake, what really gets her is that through the fusion she can feel his fear of losing himself. His fear that through the merge he won’t be Oscar anymore

And this really sticks with Blake, because she kind of knows exactly what that’s like. To a lesser extent of course. She’s learned by this point not to compare traumas, but objectively abuse and the loss of self from that is NOT the same as getting your soul magically consumed by a person wizard

She talks to him afterward about that. Similar to the talk she had with Nora about her and Ren. It’s different, and she wishes it wasn’t, but she still tries to remind Oscar that Oz is just a part of him. Don’t forget about the rest

Now it’s time for Emerald City Siblings, my beloveds. Love these kids

Emerald is DEEPLY mistrusting of the whole fusion thing. Even Salem related trauma aside, she uses her masks as a shield. No way is she letting one of these idiots in her freaking mind

It’s only after they stop Penny from leaving and come up with the plan to break into the Academy that she finally accepts Jaune’s offer to fuse (which allows her to fuse with other people Jaune has fused with)

They do so, and it’s weird as hell, but she realizes that she’s not the only one being made vulnerable in this. So is the other person. It’s more trust and openness than Cinder ever gave her, and that stings

After RWBYJ falls, Emerald is left as one of the only good guys. And it’s still weird to think of herself as one of the good guys. Ren is trying to hold everyone together, Nora is hiding behind a wall of strength, and Emerald is left as somehow the most put together one of the bunch

Oscar, meanwhile, is deeply suffering. Without anyone to fuse with to stave it off, the merge is catching up to him with a vengeance. He feels less like Oscar every day, every hour. It’s terrifying

Emerald is a good guy now, and it sucks, because it means she actually wants to help Oscar. She wants to be there for him the way his other friends were. So SHE is the one to offer to fuse with him, after seeing him fight off a merge attack

Salem is a monster, and maybe Ozpin is too, she still isn’t sure. But no matter what, this kid doesn’t deserve to be saddled with the cost of their mistakes. Oscar accepts

It’s still deeply weird, feeling your personality vanish and become someone else. A wave of nausea hits her as neural pathways are formed and two souls try to become one.

She can feel the vibrant green magic leeching away at Oscar’s soul. Fused, it feels like it’s in HER soul. She can feel his terror, his pain, but worst of all his resignation. Emerald can feel that he’s given up and accepted that in a few weeks time, he’s going to be all but dead

She wonders what he can feel from her

But she can also feel, just for a moment, that OTHER soul that’s piggybacking on Oscar. Ancient beyond comprehension, and full of so much pain that she instinctively turns away from it

And it’s strange, but it almost feels like the longer they’re fused, the less that green magic is covering the kid’s soul

And then the moment ends, and they’re left dazed. But Oscar looks more like himself than he has since the others fell. So maybe Emerald did something right, for once

[legyt]

Okok, I can't stop thinking abt it ever since I've watched the latest Blue Beetle movie and now its buried itself in my fcking brain. Not to mention my current, very obvious fixation on Transformers and that mecha pilot au

LISTEN, what if, Blue Beetle x Transformers but in a mecha pilot au

IDK MAN. JUST. Hear me out.

Lik, imagine if Jaime pilots a mech, but lik instead of only getting a neural link when he actually gets in the cockpit of the mech, WHAT IF he's constantly neural linked to it. And, imagine if Khaji is lik an independant ai lik with that Netflix movie of Atlas and Smith. Thats Jaime and Khaji in this world.

AND AND, this kind of symbiotic relationship between Jaime and Khaji is supposed to b lik some type of experiment to see if the pilot and the mech can work individually and in sync at the same time. Basically, u could say that they'd b trying to immitate the thing with Vortex and First Aid but done in a different direction.

I havent thought abt what the interactions with TF characters would b lik, but tbh Im just so hyper fixated on Transformers that I DESPERATELY manifested a Blue Beetle and Transformers crossover fusion au. You can literally take out the Transformers, and IT WOULD STILL B A SICK FCKING IDEA.

[the-catch-center]

SPATIOTEMPORAL CATCH CENTER (SCC) DOSSIER: INTERCEPTION REPORT 77-Ω4-Δ13

SUBJECT FILE: Temporal Deviant Class-IX (Unauthorized Identity Ascension & Market Path Manipulation) INTERCEPT ID: TD-922-5x | CODE NAME: “Cicada Orchid” APPREHENSION STATUS: Successful Temporal Arrest, Mid-Jump Interception REASSIGNMENT PHASE: Stage 3 Conversion Complete — FULL IDENTITY LOCK DATE OF INTERCEPTION: March 2nd, 2025 (Gregorian), during Transition Protocol Execution to 2076 FORCED TEMPORAL REINTEGRATION DATE: June 17th, 1956

I. ORIGINAL IDENTITY – [PRIME SELF]

Full Name (Original, Earth-2025 Reality): Landon Creed Marlowe Chronological Age at Apprehension: 29 years Nationality: Neo-Continental (Post-Treaty North America) Biological Condition: Augmented Homo Sapiens – Class 2 Physical Stats at Intercept:

Height: 6’4”

Weight: 243 lbs

Body Fat: 2.1%

Neural Rewiring Index: 87%

Emotional Dampening Threshold: Fully Suppressed

Verbal Influence Score: 97/100 (Simulated Charisma Layer active)

Psychological Profile: Landon Marlowe was a prototype of hypercapitalist self-creation. Having abandoned all conventional morality by age 17, he immersed himself in data markets, psycho-linguistic mimicry, and somatic enhancement routines. A hybrid of postmodern narcissism and cybernetic ambition, he believed history should be rewritten not through war, but through wealth recursion—self-generating economic monopolies that spanned both physical and meta-market layers. By 2025, Marlowe had begun the Vaultframe Project: a forbidden consciousness routing protocol allowing a subject to leap across timelines and self-modify to fit ideal environmental conditions.

He had already initiated Stage 1 of the Phase Ascension:

Target Year: 2076 Final Form Name: Cael Axiom Dominion

II. TARGET FORM – [PROHIBITED FUTURE IDENTITY]

Designated Name: Cael Axiom Dominion Temporal Anchor Year: 2076–2120 (Planned) Occupation/Status: Centralized Financial Apex Authority (Unofficial title: “God of the Grid”) Intended Specifications:

Height: 6’8”

Skin: Synthetic/Epidermech Weave (Reflective, Gleaming Finish)

Mind: Hybridized Neuro-Organic Substrate, 3-layered Consciousness Stack

Vision: Perfect (Microscopic + Ultraviolet Layer)

Muscle: Fully Synthetic Carbon-Tension Architecture

Voice: Dynamically Modeled for Maximum Compliance Induction

Personality: Pure calculated utility — no empathy, full response modulation

Psychological Construction: Modeled on a fusion of 21st-century crypto barons, colonial magnates, and AI-governance ethic loopholes. His projected behavior matrix would’ve allowed him to overwrite traditional economic cycles, insert himself into every transaction on the New Continental Grid, and displace global markets into dependence loops. He would have achieved Immortality via Economic Indispensability by 2085.

[OPERATOR'S NOTE – TECHNICIAN LYDIA VOLSTROM, FILE LEAD]

"He thought he was the evolutionary end of capital. We've seen dozens like him — grim-faced tech prophets dreaming of godhood, all forged in the same factory-line delusion that intelligence and optimization should rewrite morality. His 'Cael Dominion' persona was practically masturbatory — gleaming muscle, perfect diction, deathless control. The problem with arrogance across time is that we always arrive faster. We waited at his jumpgate exit vector like hounds in a vineyard. Now he will die quietly, shelving dusty books in wool slacks while children giggle at his shoes."

III. REWRITTEN FORM – [REASSIGNED TIMELINE IDENTITY]

Permanent Designation (1956 Reality): Harlan Joseph Whittemore Date of Birth (Backwritten): March 19th, 1885 Current Age: 71 years (Biological and Perceived) Location: Greystone Hollow, Indiana – Population 812 Occupation: Head Librarian, Greystone Municipal Library Known As: “Old Mr. Whittemore” / “Library Santa” / “Harlan the Historian”

Biological Recomposition Report:

Height: 6’2” (slightly stooped)

Weight: 224 lbs

Body Type: Large-framed, soft-muscled, slightly arthritic

Beard: Full, white, flowing to chest length — maintained with gentle cedar oil

Hair: Long, silver-white, brushed back, unkempt at the sides

Skin: Tanned, deeply lined, blotched by sun exposure and age

Eyebrows: Dense, low, expressive

Feet: Size 28EE – institutionally branded biometrics for deviant tracking

Shoes: Custom brown orthotic leather shoes with stretch bulging

Hands: Broad, aged, veined, arthritic knuckles

Glasses: Oversized horn-rimmed, 1950s prescription style

Wardrobe:

High-waisted wool trousers (charcoal gray)

Thick brown suspenders

Faded plaid flannel shirt, tucked in neatly

Scuffed leather shoes (notable bulge around toes due to foot size)

IV. MENTAL & SOCIETAL RE-IMPRINT

Primary Personality Traits (Post-Warp):

Kind-hearted, emotionally patient

Gentle-voiced, soft-spoken, slightly slow in speech

Deeply enjoys classical literature, gardening, and children’s laughter

Feels “he’s always been this way”

Occasionally hums jazz under his breath while shelving books

Writes slow, thoughtful letters to estranged family (fabricated)

Routine:

Opens library at 8AM sharp

Catalogues local donations

Reads to children every Wednesday

Tends a small rose garden behind the building

Engages in local history discussions with town elders

Walks home slowly with a leather satchel and a cane

[OPERATOR’S NOTE – FIELD ADJUSTER INGRID PAZE]

"Watching Marlowe become Harlan was like watching a lion remember it's a housecat. I’ve never seen a posture break so beautifully. He twitched at first — his back still tried to square itself like the predator he was. But the warp wore him down. The spine bent. The voice thickened. By the time his hands were fumbling the spines of leather-bound encyclopedias, he was gone. I almost felt bad when the first child ran up and said, ‘Santa?’ He smiled. Like it made sense. Like it was the right name."

V. DEATH RECORD

Date of Death: October 21, 1961 Cause: Heart failure while trimming rose bushes behind Greystone Library

He was buried in a town he never technically existed in, beside a wife who never lived. His obituary described him as “a man of kindness, wisdom, and humility — who asked for nothing and gave more than most ever know.” No one will remember that he once sought to become Cael Axiom Dominion.

[FINAL NOTE – SENIOR INTERCEPTOR V. CALDER]

"Marlowe played the long game, but his crime was arrogance. You can stack capital, sculpt the body, and forge a god’s name — but time always wins. He wanted to be immortal. Now he’ll live only in the margins of children’s drawings, mistaken for Santa, fading like a dog-eared library card. Perfect."

[wordsmithprincess]

Her weapon bucked, joints screeching and metal whining against the intense pressure, a spear of pain lancing into her, a feeling like the skin on her arm had been flensed and a cattle prod rammed into her nerves.

[Targets Eliminated]

Liandra screamed against the pain flooding into over the neural link, her body writhing within the amniotic gel encasing her, blood leaked from her nose as her brain overloaded with the data and pain being forced into her.

[Energy lost as vented heat = 129 032 Joules]

[Apollo Class Experimental Weapon operating at 75.327% efficiency]

[Structural integrity at 98.3%]

[Operator incapacitated for 2.73 seconds after activation]

Pain like a thousand hot knives cutting into her brain greeted Liandra in her return to consciousness. Hundreds of packets of data streaming into her head, giving her updates on her second self’s status, from the fluctuations of heat flushing through her fusion reactor to the micro fractures radiating up the metal of her left arm. Throwing off the introspective programs that had spun through her mind, Liandra turned her attention to her targets.

A ruby haze filled the street, flash-boiled blood from dozens of protestors hung heavy, cut through only by the screams of the dying and the uninjured terrorists. A swathe had been cut through them, those in the line of fire of her weapon had become nothing more than the steam that hid away those less fortunate from easy sight. Those outside of the immediate cone of death that had spat from her weapon suffered in those moments before their lives would come to an end, terrorists caught too close had limbs popped as the blood inside had flash-boiled, those further away screamed in bloody horror, their former friends steaming and spitting organs covering their bodies, skin blistered and peeled, vitreous fluid leaked down cheeks and evaporated away as eyes burst from the heat.

Shuddering at the sight, Liandra turned her body of metal away, her job had been to ensure that none who would raise a fist against the Empire would be in any condition to do so again, and she considered this pack of rebels thoroughly pacified, those few who did not succumb to their injuries would be forced to begging to survive, a public and open reminder to all about what the reward for treasonous behaviours.

[Mission Complete. Returning to Base]

Liandra would not, could not, see the burning placards beneath her feet as she moved away, clawed steel alloy crushing the hopes and desires for a better world, fading to ash in her wake.