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five-rivers · 10 months

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Anyone Anywhere Anytime

Turns out I still have some Gen Rex brainworms to expunge.

AO3

Anyone Anywhere Anytime

(Or, five times someone close to Rex became an EVO, plus one.)

The first rule of the war was that anyone could become an EVO. Anything, too, but making sure people knew it could happen to people was a higher priority than strict accuracy. It could happen to a stranger. It could happen to a celebrity. It could happen to a poor man. It could happen to a rich man. It could happen to the kid down the street. It could happen to your best friend. It could happen to your partner. It could happen to you.

Anyone.

No one was safe.

The second rule was that EVOs could show up anywhere. The Amazon Rainforest? Check. The Sahara Desert? Check. The middle of the ocean? Check. Antarctica? Check. The middle of Mexico City? Check. Kyiv? Check. Highway during rush hour? Check. The middle of a corporate office? Check. High security military facilities? Check. Wherever there was life, there were EVOS.

Anywhere.

Nowhere was safe.

The third rule was that EVOs could be created at any time. Sometimes you’d get a warning, a split second before the day’s unluckiest person, pet, or petri dish got an unwanted upgrade courtesy of the pervasive nanite plague. Day or night, dusk or dawn, it didn’t matter. Asleep in bed, on top of the world, down in the dumps, stressed, relaxed, whatever. No one knew what the trigger was. There might not even be a trigger. So it paid to always stay on your toes. Always vigilant.

Anytime.

No time was safe.

Anyone could become an EVO, anywhere, at any time.

#1: Six

Rex was not a fan of baseline hand-to-hand lessons. Like, okay, it was cool to be able to do some of this stuff, but, honestly, whenever he got into a fight, he’d be using his builds, so it felt sort of… unnecessary. Especially compared to more practical practice.

Six raised an eyebrow so that it arched above the top edge of his sunglasses. “Are you going to tell that to Van Kleiss when he manages to drain your nanites again?” he asked.

“Uh, no. I don’t really chat with Van Kleiss when I’m fighting him.”

A second eyebrow joined the first.

“Okay, okay, but that’s banter. That’s different. We’re not, like, actually talking.”

“I see,” said Six, before aiming a punch directly at Rex’s face.

“Ack!” said Rex, barely dodging it. It was definitely a ‘training speed’ punch, telegraphed way more than Six usually would. “Six! I wasn’t ready!” A common complaint of Rex’s during training.

“Someone who attacks you while your nanites are offline won’t wait until you’re ready, either.” An equally common response from Six. It was a whole song and dance. Routine, really. Their own form of banter.

Rex knew Six loved it. Probably. Possibly? Okay, it was sometimes hard to figure out if Six loved anything, or even if he liked anything, but one time Rex held off on the banter and Six walked him down to Holiday’s lab for a full body checkup, so that was something, right?

Anyway, they continued lightly sparring for a few minutes before Six put him into a serious hold. “Alright,” he said, “today, we’re going to work on breaking–”

Six went silent, his body stiffening and going still.

“Uh,” said Rex, “Six? You okay?” He reached up behind him, or tried to– Six’s hold was still solid and really did its job of making sure Rex couldn’t grab or hit Six. “Is this supposed to be some kind of ‘figure it out on your own’ thing? What’s going on?”

He didn’t get a response from Six. He did, however, get a response from his nanites.

{alert: t102-INITIAL activation of b6066-ZETA detected in range. query: action.}

“Oh, crap,” said Rex, flailing. b6066-ZETA was the batch number for the primary population of nanites in Six– A fact he’d thought hilarious when he’d first managed to find out. He didn’t know what t102-INITIAL meant, but then, he’d never been in close physical contact with someone who was going EVO.

{alert: t103-CASCADE activation of b6066-ZETA detected in range. query: action.}

{command: abort activation.} Rex sent back.

{error:} said the nanites, because of course Rex would miss step one under these circumstances, {not connected. alert: t103-CASCADE activation of b6066-ZETA and b5534-ALEP detected in range. alert: t102-INITIAL activation of b6002-THETA detected in range. query: action.}

Rex didn’t need direct skin-to-skin contact with an EVO to be able to cure it. He did, after all, wear gloves, and he could work through an EVO’s clothing, if necessary.

But he did have to make a connection, he did have to send his nanotechnology into the target, at last at first, to take over and deactivate the other nanites. And he hadn't done that yet. Normally invisible dermal nanite colonies lit up and moved as Rex forced them into action.

{command: abort activation.}

{processing…}

"Okay, okay," said Rex, more than half his attention on minding the connection. "It's processing. Not everything is instant, right?"

{processing…}

“Just… just hang in there, okay? Six?”

{processing…}

Rex didn’t know what he’d do if Six was incurable. Six was… He was the first person Rex had really met. The first person whose name he knew. The person who’d been with him the whole time, who had protected him in the ruins of Mexico City, and later from people like Dr. Fell. He was the one who taught Rex to survive, who was still teaching him how to survive.

Rex didn’t know what he’d do, if he lost Six.

{alert: command aborted by secadmin-SIX. query: action.}

“What?” gasped Rex, affronted. “Admin? Since when is Six an admin? Who decided that?”

{admin_history: priadmin-REX (priloc: b4739-BETA, locus: hsapiens1-REX) designated user-SIX (priloc: b6066–ZETA, locus: hsapiens2036606606-SIX) secadmin on–}

Six spasmed and pushed Rex away, practically throwing him across the room and breaking the connection Rex had to the nanites in Six. Rex rolled, ironically making use of some of the first things Six had ever taught him, and bounced back to his feet just in time to watch as Six’s nanites took over.

Limbs and fingers lengthened. Skin went shiny, green and scaled. Six made a terrible, terrible sound.

“I-It’s going to be okay,” said Rex. Because it had to be. This was just… this had to be because it was in the middle of an activation, not because Six was incurable. Once it ran its course, and Rex was able to make contact again, it would be fine. Six would be fine. And then Rex could sit down and figure out what priadmin, secadmin, and locus meant, as well as why his nanites decided to be so talkative today.

{help_info: topadmin, priadmin, secadmin, and user are the four access levels designated on standard nanOS.}

The last three fingers on each of Six’s hands lengthened further, and fused together, forming long swords not unlike his magna blades. A long tail grew from the base of his spine, stabilizing his center of gravity.

“Also, please don’t go crazy, because I really, really don’t want to fight you like this.”

{help_info: a locus is an integrated biomechanical entity formed of all nanites within or controlled by a biological organism and that biological organism. individual loci are designated by–}

Rex dodged out of the way as one of those swords came down at him. Great! Six was crazy. This was bad, bad, bad, bad.

He called up his nanites into his smack hands and deflected the next blow, pushing forward even as he winced against the sound it made. Six flipped over his hand, or tried to. He got clear of Rex, yes, but he fumbled both the flip itself, and the landing. Rex had never seen Six fumble anything before.

Except footballs and basketballs. But Rex was pretty sure that was on purpose.

(A magna blade through a ball was a clear message, after all.)

But it made sense that Six would fumble now. Nanites themselves could only control so much, after all, and still relied on their hosts’ brains for a lot of things. Six wasn’t used to his new body plan. So, fumbling.

Rex lunged for Six again, this time managing to grab his tail, but Six stabbed one of his swords right through one of the tendon-like cables that controlled the grip of his smack hands, and his hand flew open, letting Six escape, bounce off one of the walls, and hit Rex’s back, just over the shoulders. Rex hit the ground again, but not for long. His boogie pack pushed Six off before he could do any damage, and man that was close.

Six skirted Rex’s counterattack, and almost managed to get Rex in the same hold he’d been in just minutes ago, but that was fine. Contact was contact. Rex was not going to be picky. Not today.

{alert: contact made with locus-hsapiens2036606606-SIX. query: action.}

{command: shutdown. command: extract activated nanites.}

{processing…}

"Come on, Six, let me do this, please."

{processing…}

"Because I don't know what I'd do without you."

{processing…}

"Also, your sword fingers are getting way closer to my face than I thought they would and it's really freaking me out!"

{waiting… alert: command accepted, extraction initiated.}

Rex sighed in relief as he felt Six’s frame change behind him and the extra weight of Six’s extracted activated nanites settled inside him. Six’s grip on him loosened, and Six himself tilted back until they were lying flat on the floor.

“Six?” said Rex.

“Yes, Rex?”

“Just checking.” What, exactly, he was checking went unsaid. “Just don’t do that to me again, okay?”

Six patted Rex’s shoulder and made no promises either way.

#2: Caesar

"It isn't that simple," said Caesar, glaring up at the over-bright and too-high screen. If he didn’t already hate White for how he was treating his little brother (“It doesn’t matter how many dubious long-lost relatives crawl out of the woodwork, he isn’t leaving Providence.”) he might hate him for how he’d arranged things so that he’d be able to, quite literally, look down on everyone.

“Explain,” ordered White.

“I shouldn’t have to,” said Caesar, eyes flicking briefly to the doctor who’d joined them just a moment ago. Dr. Holiday, he thought her name was. “I know I’m not the only scientist from the project who survived the nanite event.” Rylander, Meechum, and Van Kleiss, at least, had to still be around. “You should already know the answers to these questions. Is this some sort of test?”

“Humor us,” said Dr. Holiday, clicking a pen and resting the tip against a notepad. “You might have a unique perspective on the question, especially in regards to Rex.”

Caesar sighed roughly. In regards to Rex. Yes. Yes, he supposed he did, but he’d really rather spend this time in a lab, trying to get the last kinks out of Rex’s programming before… before.

But these people wouldn’t let him do that until he gave them what they wanted.

“Fine,” he said, blinking back a touch of dizziness. A side effect of near light speed trave? “There are several roadblocks to the goal of ‘curing everyone.’ The first is that not all nanites are the same. By the time the nanite event happened, there were hundreds of different sub-projects. The nanite project as a whole had hundreds of the best scientists money could buy, and it ran for over a decade. There was even a major programming fork in the early days, so there’s the possibility that there are two different operating systems at play, in addition to different models of nanite with different programs. Some of those programs were meant to run on humans. Most of them weren’t. Some of them weren’t meant to interface with biological entities at all. And the more recent batches were designed with limited self-programming capability, so that they could interface better with individual hosts. There is no one size fits all solution. Even if you’re talking about Rex, his nanites just aren’t going to be able to communicate with all other nanites.”

“What about the Omega nanite?” asked Dr. Holiday. “Isn’t that supposed to be a master control?”

“Eh, well, there are master controls and then there are master controls. In theory, he can use it to talk to all the other nanites, in practice–”

“What about kill codes? Emergency stops?” asked White, leaning forward.

“That’s the second problem. There might have been emergency shutdown codes, or emergency self-destruct codes, but only a few people ever had access to them. Top admins. We wanted to put these things into people. ¿Lo entiendes? We didn’t want just anyone to be able to mess with them. Which loops back to the other part. Even with a master control, if it’s changing someone’s body, it needs user permission.”

White scoffed. “Yeah, and you’ve really done a stellar job with that.”

Caesar made a face but didn’t dispute the point. Things had gone very wrong. “I think that might be the main stumbling block for Rex. That wasn’t implemented yet in everything, but if it was tagged as complete and for humans, there’s that limit there. Also, if the onboard AI has any integration troubles, getting permission would also be problematic. No communication, no permission.”

“Wait– Onboard AI?” Dr. Holiday asked, looking interested.

“Later, Holiday,” said White. “What are the other problems?”

“Frankly? Admin levels and programming tools. It’s my understanding that most of the original project equipment was lost in the event, and if you had anyone with top admin permissions, this would be a very different conversation.”

“What is your admin level?” asked Holiday.

“I have primary admin permissions,” said Caesar, “with a few special permissions on the computer in my lab.” He jerked his head in its general direction. “But most of my access - my primary location - was from my computer in Abysus. I don’t know if I can replicate that from a secondary. And there’s not a chance I’d be recognized if I ‘went EVO.’ I don’t have a registered locus in the system. Although, I suppose Rex might be able to promote me to secadmin if… but that’s behind a partition… he was ten! Of course we put it behind a partition…” We being Caesar and his parents. His parents who were…

“Great. Whatever. I’ll leave the technobabble to the nerds. Salazar. Don’t forget. I’m watching you.” The screen flicked out.

Holiday stepped forward. “Let me show you to your lab space,” she said. “I think we do have a lot to talk about.”

“Actually, if it’s all the same to you… From my perspective, my day started with the nanite event, the death of my parents, and time travel. I’d like to take a moment to… catch up with current events.”

“Oh,” said Holiday, softly. “I hadn’t– Of course. But you should still know where the labs are.”

Caesar managed a weak smile. While it was true he was unsettled by recent-to-him events, he was mostly saying this to get Holiday out of his hair. She was probably expecting him to break down, now, but Caesar had never been much of one for emotional affect… Although he’d been expecting something more from the deaths of his parents… His principal emotions at the moment were continuing hatred for White Knight and… worry for Rex.

This was not a good environment for him, he was sure. It already wasn’t a good environment for Caesar, and he’d been here, what, five hours? And Caesar wasn’t being used as a hostage, a weapon, or an experiment.

Yet. There was always tomorrow.

They walked down a series of impersonal hallways. There were more signs of life here than near White Knight’s ‘meeting room,’ but it was still quiet, which Caesar was grateful for. He was developing an unusually sharp headache.

“Communal labs,” said Holiday, opening a door to reveal another hallway, this one inhabited by a pair of scientists trying to get an optics table through a doorway. “You haven’t been assigned work space yet, but the intake paperwork should be ready by tomorrow.”

“This can’t be all of your labs.”

“No,” said Holiday. “Of course not. But this is what you’ve been cleared to access, so far. You’ll also be assigned a small private lab, for sensitive work, and you will have limited access to some of the spaces we have for Rex.”

“To study Rex, you mean.”

Holiday shut the door and continued to walk down the hallway. “I don’t like it either,” she said. “But things could be… worse.”

“How so?”

Holiday hesitated. “I’m not in charge of all the scientists here,” she said, finally, “and before I was in my current position, I was treated like a glorified intern. My predecessor…” She seemed to make a decision. “He tried to kill Rex. There are still too many people who think like him. But outside of Providence, it’s worse. EVOs, even the human-passing ones, legally aren’t human and can be killed with no legal repercussions.”

“You can’t be serious,” said Caesar. Even if everything was as bad as she and White said, human-based EVOs should be treated like people with a disease, not dangerous animals.

“I wish I wasn’t,” said Holiday. “Rex has been…” She pressed her lips together in a firm line as she input a key code for the next door. “He’s been assaulted, more than once. He wasn’t seriously injured, his nanites let him shrug off most things, but it’s not… You can’t live freely in a world that doesn’t consider you human.” She swallowed and then waved a hand at the room. “This is the principle programming and sim lab.”

“Ah,” said Caesar, taking note of technology that, at least on the surface, was decidedly behind what was in his pod lab.

“Next stop, general quarters.”

They didn’t talk again until they reached a much narrower hallway with a lot more traffic.

“Shift change,” explained Holiday. She stopped in front of one of the doors. “This is your room. You should be able to use your ID card to open it.”

The room was, in fact, a small studio apartment. Not huge, but fully furnished with a small kitchen and full bathroom. There was a desk with a computer set up on one side, next to a fake window.

“The computer should let you access the public internet, but you’ll have to wait for credentials to access Providence’s databases. That should still let you catch up with current events.”

“Right,” said Caesar. “Thank you, Dr. Holiday.”

“Oh, one more thing.” Holiday reached into her pocket and pulled out an old model clamshell phone. “In this line of work, you get used to carrying a few burners. It has Rex’s number already on it.” She handed it to him.

“Thank you,” said Caesar, almost dropping it as he took it, unclear on what, exactly, she wanted him to do with it.

“Just… be careful, Caesar.” She turned away and walked back down the hallway.

Caesar let out a puff of air. She could at least call him Dr. Salazar… Although that would have him looking over his shoulder for his father… and might be a little strange considering what appeared to be her relationship with his brother.

Life was, as always, unfairly complicated.

He shook his head and went into the room, closing and locking the door behind him. Although, considering that the locks were electronic, he suspected that anyone with ‘clearance’ could get in. He looked at the computer and sighed. Best to get started.

He sat down and shook a slight tremor - probably caused by lack of sleep and adrenaline - out of his hands. Time to see what the nanites had been doing over the past six years.

There was… a lot.

A horrifying lot.

Although, to be fair, most of the horror on Caesar’s part came from watching his little brother fight what looked like giant monsters. Although, that was also somewhat impressive, because their parents absolutely had not programmed Rex’s nanites with giant swords, saws, guns, or VTOL equipment, which indicated that the self programming abilities of Rex’s nanites were far more versatile than intended… or they’d figured out how to ‘steal’ programming from other nanites, he wasn’t sure yet. In any case, the emergent behavior were fascinating, and–

Caesar hissed as his hand spasmed. That wasn’t normal. Had he strained something earlier, or…

It occurred to him, then, that after so long, most people with a propensity for ‘going EVO’ already had, with the rate of new incidents currently being relatively low compared to what had happened right after the event. But for Caesar, the event had only just happened.

He swallowed and clicked through to a website discussing the symptoms of ‘nanite infection.’

Much of it he had already been aware of, including positives like the elimination of several common diseases, reduced rates of infection, faster healing for minor injuries… Those were the things nanites were supposed to do, after all. Negative side effects other than ‘going EVO’ were surprisingly few and far between, other than nasty interactions with strong magnetic fields.

He scrolled down.

… most cases nanite activation is spontaneous, with no prior warning or indicators. However, some individuals report precursor symptoms. Research is ongoing, and it is currently unclear if these reports are reliable, and, if reliable, if they are caused by nanite activation. Some demographics, notably hispanic males under the age of thirty and East Asian women between the ages of twenty-five and forty, report these precursor symptoms at a higher rate…

Of course. Those demographics lined up nicely with the original test subjects. The nanites had been adjusted based on their data, so it made sense that sufficiently similar people would interact with the nanites differently than the general population.

Caesar also fit those demographics.

He scrolled further.

… commonly reported precursor symptoms include headaches, dizziness, excessive sweating, muscle spasms, unusual muscle soreness, tremors, sore throat, sore eyes, unusual hunger or thirst, difficulty focusing, transient aphasia, nausea, seizures, general malaise and anxiety, feelings of doom…

Caesar was very much not experiencing all of those symptoms. However…

He licked his lips and glanced at the phone Holiday had given him. Surely, it wouldn’t hurt. He picked up the phone and dialed the only saved number.

“Aló, habla Rex! What’s up, Doc?”

Was that the sound of Mario Kart in the background? Did Rex cope with terrifying experiences like his body producing a machine that trapped him in a tiny airless bubble by playing Mario Kart? Whatever, not important.

“Ah, actually, Rex, this is Caesar.”

The sound of the game stopped and there was a rustling sound. “Uh,” said Rex, “hi… bro? What’s, uh. How are– How are things?”

“It’s,” said Caesar, no longer sure what to say. He could have worked himself up over nothing, and Rex… with his amnesia, he was probably expecting Caesar to give him some kind of full-life rundown, which Caesar wasn’t sure he’d ever really be up for. He swallowed. “I was wondering if you would like to…” What was Rex even allowed to do, here? He wasn’t sure.

“Sneak out together?” asked Rex, brightly. Caesar could almost envision a wagging puppy dog tail.

“Yes, that,” said Caesar, forcing a smile. He’d read that facial expressions made enough of difference to the average voice that people could tell whether or not you were smiling over the phone. He inhaled to continue, maybe to elaborate on what, exactly, they could sneak out to do, but the bottom of his stomach fell away and he–

Caesar inhaled sharply as a white tile ceiling came into focus, along with a face. He blinked a few times. “Doctor… Holiday?”

“Yes,” she said. “How do you feel, Caesar?”

“I–” How did he feel? “Fine.”

The familiar-unfamiliar face of his not-so-little-anymore brother leaned into his field of view. A few rapidly dimming lines of light lay scattered over his skin and clothing. “You’ve still got all your memories and stuff, right?”

“I… think so,” said Caesar, levering himself into a sitting position and looking around the room, which wasn’t any different from how it had been when he first walked in. “What happened? I had called you, and then…”

“You went EVO,” said Rex, nervously, picking at the seams on his gloves.

“Ah,” said Caesar, who hadn’t considered what it would be like for Rex to hear that over the phone. “I was under the impression that something like that would result in more collateral damage.”

“Oh, yeah, because of the stuff on the news?” Rex shook his head, the last of the nanite-lights going out as he did so. “Nah, man, the news only shows the violent ones, or the flashy, powerful ones. A lot of EVOs don’t do much of anything unless you mess with them. You were pretty chill.”

“Right,” said Caesar, because what else could he say to that? “I’m glad I was… chill. I suppose I’m due for a medical checkup?”

“Standard procedure,” said Holiday. “You, too, Rex.”

“Aw, man, do I have to? I was actually beating Bobo this time.”

“Caesar’s nanites might be different from what you’re used to, due to his proximity to the event,” said Holiday.

“She’s right,” said Caesar. He might as well get some good will from backing her up on this. And, besides, it might be a little easier to talk to his little brother if they were both… getting medical scans… and…

Okay, that was a terrible idea, actually. But it wasn’t as if Caesar had any better ones.

“Ugh, fine,” said Rex, crossing his arms. The intonation was almost exactly the same as the last time their mother made him go to the doctor before his accident.

Caesar smiled, and this time it was almost genuine.

#3: Bobo

The emergency lights blared overhead as armed Providence agents streamed into the room. The monkey rolled on the floor, laughing, as the probably-a-teenager-but-only-probably threw anything he could grab at him.

“I can’t believe you fell for that!” howled Bobo.

“I can’t believe you did that!” countered Rex, whose eyes were suspiciously glassy. “I was really worried!”

“I’m already an EVO, kid! Can’t EVO me twice!”

Six sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose. It had only been two months since he’d found Rex in the rubble of Mexico City, and every day was another massive headache. One that could only be rivaled by the headache he got wondering what would have happened to Rex if he hadn’t intervened.

“Shut it down,” he said. “False alarm.”

“You thought I was going EVO! Ha! That’s one for the books!”

“You suck so much!”

Yeah. This was going to be a long day.

#4: Holiday

Beverly was getting her last exit check up before she was released from Providence’s care when it happened. She was watching Rebecca type something on her computer, something about slight anemia, her face visible only in profile, when she saw it. Color, curling up out of the collar of her sister’s lab coat, vibrant and striking against the overwhelming white and pale gray of the room.

For a moment, she thought it might just be the shirt Rebecca was wearing underneath the coat, but then it moved, it spread, feathering out over the curve of her jaw and her cheek, dyeing her eye with stripes of bright gold and adding points to her ears. The color - no, the fur - crept out from the ends of her sleeves, covering the backs of her hands and fingers.

Beverly couldn’t breathe. She couldn’t move. She couldn’t– She couldn’t– This couldn’t be happening. Not to Rebecca. Not her sister. Not when Beverly had just realized she’d missed years of her life as an insane spider-monster.

Not when Beverly was the only one here, with no way to protect herself.

But Rebecca kept typing away at the computer, only looking away when one of the machines began to beep at her.

“Bev, are you feeling okay? Your heart rate just spiked.”

“I’m–” gasped Beverly. “Becca, you– Your skin!”

Rebecca blinked her (too large, too bright) eyes at Beverly, then looked down at her hands. “Oh!” she said, then fell silent for a long minute. “Oh. That’s– Huh.” She turned her hands over. “That’s… Huh.”

“What do I–” said Beverly. “I don’t–” Tears pricked at the corners of her eyes. “What do I do?”

“Just, uh,” said Rebecca, sounding stunned and bemused. “This hasn’t happened before, obviously.” She paused. “There’s a procedure.” She reached for the phone on her desk, slowly. “I never thought I’d have to use it to report myself, and maybe that’s a little hubristic of me…”

“Why?” asked Beverly, still shaken.

Rebecca glanced at Beverly. “I didn’t think I’d retain my intelligence.” The subtext was clear. She didn’t think that she would keep hers, because Beverly didn’t. She pressed a button on the phone. “Hello? This is Dr. Rebecca Holiday in examination room three-thirteen. I’m reporting an EVO– No, you don’t need– It’s me. Yes, that’s correct. I have gone EVO. Yes. I appear to be, yes. I understand the procedure. I will stand by, thank you.” She put the phone down with a click. “Alright, they should be here soon… Bev. Beverly. Are you alright?”

“Why are you asking me that?” asked Beverly, twisting her hands together. “You’re the one who– who–”

“Well,” said Rebecca, examining her nails, which looked longer than usual, “I seem to be. Fine. Mostly. I’m… unlikely to lose my job over this. Variagation isn’t progressive, generally speaking. Assuming this is already complete, and that’s likely, I won’t get any worse. I’m just, ah. Processing.”

“Processing,” repeated Beverly. “Becca, what if you aren’t– What if you’re not curable?” Rex was great and all, but Beverly hadn’t been curable.

“Then I’d have to deal with that,” said Rebecca, who was still way too calm for the situation. “There’s already precedent for EVOs working with Providence. I’ll be fine. Promise.” She smiled. “Ow.”

“What? What is it?” asked Beverly, not moving from the examination table.

“Change to my tooth structure… Still don’t know why so many EVOs are adapted to be more combative…” She fell to muttering about random science stuff, which was typical Rebecca, but still.

The door slammed open and Rex slid in, followed shortly thereafter by Six (who Rebecca was maybe sort of dating - it was really unclear), and a dozen Providence agents. Who had guns. Guns that were being pointed at Rebecca.

“Whoa, whoa, whoa! Come on, guys, it’s like you don’t work with multiple totally awesome EVOs every day,” said Rex, walking between the agents and Rebecca with ease, Six following him after pointedly pushing down one of the agents’ guns. “So, uh, how’re you doing, Doc?”

“Fine,” said Rebecca. “Just a bit… surprised.”

“Uh huh,” said Rex. “Want me to, uh. Work my magic?” He held up his hands and waved them back and forth slightly. A thin blue line flashed across one of his palms, as if his nanites were eager to be used.

“Actually, if it’s all the same to everyone,” said Rebecca, “I think I’d like to run some tests on myself, first. We have limited data on early nanite behavior in EVOs who retain their intelligence. Limited data on EVOs who retain their intelligence all around, actually.”

“And what are we?” asked Bobo, shouldering his way past the agents. “Chopped liver?”

“You,” said Rebecca, “are a different case altogether. And you know it.”

“Ah, so Rex is chopped liver. Got it.”

“Hey!”

“Rex is one data point. It’s always good to have more.”

“Absolutely,” said Rex. “So… does that mean you’re going to come join me in the training salle? See if you’ve got any special abilities? Maybe take a shot at some of the guys in the Petting Zoo?”

Six pushed up his glasses. “If you intend on staying like this for any period of time, it would be tactically sound to assess your combat abilities.”

Rebecca smiled again, and her teeth really were sharp. Heck.

“Alright, alright, but I’ll need to do my tests first, in my main lab… Beverly, I’m really sorry, but I think it might be better to reschedule the rest of your checkup. We’ve. We’ve both had a scare.”

“Yeah,” said Beverly, who still felt like a strong breeze might blow her over. “I think. Yeah.”

“Okay. Six, could you…?”

Six looked like he wanted to object. “Yeah, I’ll see her out.”

“Thanks,” said Rebecca. She and Rex left, followed by the other agents.

Beverly hadn’t moved at all.

“Come on,” said Six. “Let’s go.”

“R-right,” Beverly said, sliding off the examination table. Her legs almost buckled, but she managed to stay upright, and a few breaths made her feel a lot better. Which meant that it was time for deflection. She looked up at Six. “If you’re just going along with this because you’re one of those guys with a catgirl obsession, I’m going to kill you.” She didn’t know how. Six was, like, a ninja. But she’d figure it out.

“Noted.”

#5: Noah

“You would be wise to consider delaying your celebration for the moment, Rex. You’re about to have your hands quite full.”

Rex crossed his arms, smirking, because it was hard to take him seriously when he’d just been taken out by Noah driving a forklift. Heh. Forklift certification, Van Kleiss’s true weakness. “Oh, really, and how do you figure that?”

But Van Kleiss just smirked again and lunged forward, his arm longer than it should have been. He made contact with Noah’s chest, and the nanites activated all at once in a flash of yellow-orange light.

Oh, jeez, of course Noah would be a big one. And not particularly bright. Crap.

Why were Providence agents so trigger-happy, darn it? Rex was right there.

At least he was closer to the destructive end of the spectrum than the violent end, but would it kill him to stop running around and give Rex an easier time?

Sometimes, Rex really hated how his biometrics worked. And also Van Kleiss. He really hated Van Kleiss.

Which was why hitting the guy with a train was so satisfying.

Watching EVO Noah almost rip the guy’s arm off was even more satisfying. Maybe Van Kleiss’s real secret weakness was just blond teenagers or something. What a loser.

“Oh my gosh,” said Noah, watching the TV through his fingers. “I did that? I did that?”

“Yep,” said Rex, tossing back some popcorn.

“That’s so cool. Wish I could actually remember, though…”

“Eh,” said Rex. “I like you better this way, anyway.”

+1: Rex

(He could hear his parents arguing. He couldn’t tell what they were arguing about. He couldn’t open his eyes, or move, or even think all that much. It was like when he woke up early in the morning, but was actually still asleep, still dozing, but deeper. Darker, somehow.)

(Something was very wrong.)

(There were more people talking than just his parents. Caesar, of course. Of course his brother was there. But so were other people. Scientists. Their names slipped from Rex’s mind even as he thought of them, but they were there.)

(Why were they there?)

(It was suddenly very important to him that he wake up. Vital. Something was going to happen. He needed to be awake.)

(Why couldn’t he wake up?)

(The voices in the other room fell silent one by one, until it was only his father talking, his tone grim, his cadence steady. Then he, too, fell silent.)

(Had something bad already happened? Rex didn’t remember.)

(He… didn’t remember.)

((He didn’t want to remember))

(The door opened. Footsteps came near, two sets of them, his mother and his father.)

“Rex, we’re so sorry, but this is the only way.”

“Don’t worry, it’ll work, and then this will all just be a memory.”

(There was, very briefly, the sensation of something cold in his veins.)

{system integration initiated.}

{processing…}

{update: b4739-BETA integration achieved. hosttype hsapiens detected.}

{update: locus designated hsapiens1-REX (user-REX) systemwide.}

{alert: locus-hasapiens1-REX healthstat abnormal. processing healthstat report to topadmin.}

{alert: beginning t88-INITIAL activation of b4739-BETA.}

{processing…}

#generator rex #anyone anywhere anytime #fic #my fic

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viper-motorsports · 2 months

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Storm showers plagued the latter half of the 2024 IntGTC Bathurst 12 Hour where the defending champion, SunEnergy1 Racing, fell just short of victory after their N°75 Mercedes-AMG GT3 Evo earned a second place podium at Mt Panorama Circuit AU-NSW.

#mercedes-amg gt3 evo #bathurst 12 hour #sunenergy1 racing #mt panorama #intercontinental gt challenge #2024 b12h #2024 intgtc #rainy racing

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transmutationisms · 11 months

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broad af question, but thots on the rise of epigenetics as a model? (i imagine youd be pretty sympathetic to mansfield and guthmans critique esp re: reproductive futurity)

you imagine correctly, lol. they're kinda frustrating because they don't really understand the relationship between epigenetics, eugenics, and social reform projects historically and aren't able to contextualise it in contemporary biology, but they're still right to point out that interest in epigenetics is primarily coming from a desire to enforce ideas of biological normality and ideals of strength / beauty / &c. what's lacking in the historical narrative is the fact that this type of environmentalism has been part of evolutionary biology more often than not; darwin and his contemporaries also believed in the inheritance of acquired characteristics, so really it was only temporarily displaced by the crude genetic determinism of the modern synthesis in the early 1940s, and this model was in serious disrepute by about 50 years later lmao. i also think mansfield and guthman, like most commentators on this issue, overstate the extent to which epigenetic inheritance is a 'lamarckian' idea (it's not, any more than mendelian genetics is 'darwinian' or evo-devo is the same as 18th-century recapitulation theory lmao).

anyway, regarding epigenetics itself, there's also a lot of overconfidence about the ability for biologists to actually determine which genes are being differentially expressed, how they influence one another, and what that means for the organism. if you even change, like, the length of dna sequence that the computer considers to be a gene, you get a radically different list, and even if you can identify a differentially expressed gene with confidence, determining what exactly it does is still incredibly hard. in practical terms, epigenetics is still confined mostly to similar kinds of epidemiological studies as nutrition science, and many of these studies are plagued with confounding factors and methodological weaknesses. the hope has long been that by identifying epigenetic changes, we could develop targeted therapies. but this is basically a moonshot imo (like, literally no one knows which parts of gene expression to target or how, ever) and also raises the extremely thorny question of: what things, exactly, are we hoping to 'fix'? more often than not, as m&g point out, this type of research is driven by interest in enforcing thinness, specific neurological and affective states, &c. not to say there's NO epigenetic research being done on diseases that would actually be beneficial to cure, but epigenetics has a eugenic bent (because public health has a eugenic bent) and is specifically being funded that way.

although i disagree, like i said, that epigenetics is really lamarckism (& dislike the work of jablonka and that crowd for this exact reason lol), you can certainly contextualise the rise of epigenetics in the longer history of disputations over the role of the environment in determining the condition of the organism. life sciences and medicine have grappled with this issue in many different forms; for instance, hippocrates's non-naturals suggest environmental and climatic influence, galenic humoural theory leans on internal regulation with the environment as an external disruption, germ theory offered what appeared to be a non-environmental theory of disease that was promptly synthesised with sanitary-environmentalist hypotheses by the french hygiene profession. within evolutionary biology specifically, ideas of plasticity within an organism's lifetime have never really gone away, and the dispute was essentially over the extent to which these changes were hereditary. epigenetic theory fits comfortably within this ongoing debate, and if more biologists understood that then they would understand why their work bears such a strong resemblance to so many previous eugenic projects.

#epigenetics

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give-grian-rights · 1 year

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Mika I’m on my knees begging any taurian headcanons….. in exchange I will say that “bitter water” by the oh hellos is a taurian song

did you see my last one that talked about them having tomagatchis and stuff . . ALSO i must tell you that i cannot help but to associate taurian with space and time . time because grian's timetravel stuff and space because taurtis had a fun lil machinima of him in a rocketship once and like . they're vibes ok??

a lot of these are gonna be for yhs because we got Minimal moments of them in evo :(

they probably have a collection of a bunch of weird stuff . taurtis collects vintage and weird fish stuff (plushies, ceramics, paintings, etc) because he had that . weird familial attachment to Pufferfish Pete and his family . Grian collects miscellaneous rocks and Shiny stuff . probably got into some wiccan stuff because of Ellen

Grian tries to keep Taurtis awake during the day so he can sleep at night. If that doesn't work, then he'll stay up at night until Taurtis falls asleep.

When they ARE asleep, their position ends up some unholy knot of limbs . they both want to be the little spoon . instead neither of them do . on top of eachother, half way off the bed, holding onto the other's leg, torso, neck, etc in their arms .

Taurtis is only Slightly taller than Grian . but they are the same shoe size. they bought a pair of blue shoes and a pair of red shoes and swapped one with the other <3

a bunch of tacky friendship bracelets and necklaces they probably got at a dollar store or an arcade

they were warrior cat kids . look at them and prove me wrong

they played in the same game savefile and drive each other CRAZY before turning it into a game of who can log off in the most baffling, confusing manner. weird shit in their inventory, AWFUL log-off locations, bad armor, etc.

Grian washes Taurtis' hair . they never have been able to find a comfortable arrangement for it and it always leads to someone's neck hurting .

post yhs/ts Taurtis and Grian got taken by the Watchers to be trained, and basically learn how to live in Survival, build, etc. and its in that time that Buildswap happened, and THEN Evo .

post yhs/ts their world ummm blew up :blush: because sam and grian started the apocalypses and it was . idk if you watched tokyo soul but it got REAL FUCKED but the principal of it is that everyone died except for Sam, Grian and Taurtis. also pillsbury doughboy but dont worry about that. so the way i figure it is that that like . FUCKED SHIT UP because of how unnatural it was and so everyone there did permadie .

except Ellen, Domrao and J, because the Watchers looked at Grian and Taurtis after they saved them and was like "look at them!! look at these perfectly good baby gods!! they're traumatized! lets give them emotional support friends" and was able to bring them back under the excuse of them having potential to be good Watchers . which to be fair is probably true about Ellen . but honestly i think the only requirement to be a watcher is teenage/childhood trauma, looking at all my/the fandom's headcanons of who else are watchers .

there are other servers like YHS, that have movies and cities and cars, but Grian avoids them like the plague. Taurtis still probably finds them endearing, as he wasn't able to embrace the cultural of the independence of SMPs and Survival, like Grian was able to eventually.

Grian and Taurtis still have this weird connection and can kinda Know when the other one wants them. Grian can make the Taurtis Shrine, and Taurtis can make a Grian Shrine, and they're eachother's person.

Being Watchers, mean they can bypass a Server's Whitelist . do not tell Xisuma (he knows)

#taurian #hermitship #< for filtering #yhs grian #yhs taurtis #yandere high school #samgladiator supporters dni #yhs #yhs mcrp #yandere high school mcrp #mika-posts #evo smp

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redstonedust · 2 years

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anyways i want to write the opposite of grian watcher angst where he's the only one getting off lightly out of the evo members. because all the watchers want is a good show and grian is most entertaining when he's causing problems for others, so they just kinda let him off his leash to do whatever he wants.

meanwhile martyn is plagued by their voices, jimmy and pearl are plagued by death, bigb only gets to see his friends in death games, and the rest of the evolutionists have either disappeared or stick to solo series now. theres SO much you could do with all of them. and grian would be oblivious, because he is and will always be the viewer favourite, so why would their godly stand-ins torment him, y'kno?

#evo smp #sorry everybody i'll never be over evo but only in the specific way i intepret it i guess

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cathkaesque · 4 months

Note

if you could travel back in time, is there a specific time and place you'd want to go? assuming you'd instantly know the local language and not bring back a plague

I have a tonne of thoughts about this actually. I would go back to the 1984 miners strike, armed with all the knowledge and government documents that my bf has uncovered during his research. We both fantasise often about going back in time to fix the mistakes that happened during the 80s, in order to prevent the destruction of the world as ongoing today.

The 1984 miners' strike is one of the fundamental world turning points - it's when the ideas of resources should be used for need, rather than profit, versus the idea that resources exist to make money and should be thrown away if they don't, are explicitly tested and the latter wins out. The working class movement never recovers and the social bases of its existence are destroyed. Capital taken out of national industries is exported abroad, and Britain's economy becomes a consumerist. Fundamentally, it's this approach that has destroyed the world.

The strike was utterly winnable - Thatcher takes on each individual group of combative workers one by one (first inner city riots in 1979-80, then the steel workers in 1980, then rail workers in 1982, the miners in 1984, local government in 1985, print workers in 1986, dock workers in 1989). If all of these groups had taken unified action at once then the government would have folded - they say so themselves in their internal discussions. There were multiple opportunities for joint action - there is an attempted general strike in Wales that fails to get off the ground due to poor coordination.

The other thing as well is how close the Labour Party came to being led by Tony Benn - in the 1981 Deputy Leadership he was basically a handful of votes away from unseating right wing ballsack Dennis Healey (50.4% vs 49.6%). He could have won a leadership challenge against Foot, and definitely could have beaten Kinnock in the 1983 leadership election had his seat not been abolished in the election of that year. A Benn party would have backed the strikes, rather than tried to sabotage them like Kinnock's ilk did.

The other turning point is post strike, the transformation of the National Union of Mineworkers from a workplace union first and foremost to an organisation that represented the whole coalfield community. Women in the pit communities built an alternative welfare system in the form of Women Against Pit Closures, which provided communities with essentials as well as manning picket lines. There was a motion at NUM conference in 1985 to give WAPC branches affiliate membership, but this was defeated largely for entirely misogynistic reasons. If this had succeeded, and the NUM had invested in developing and supporting these branches rather than , they could have retained some of their political organisation post pit closure. Furthermore, this would then have given other community based movements such as the Anti-Poll Tax Leagues a model for something that could exist after the strike.

This transition, from workplace to community union, was achieved in Bolivia which went through a very similar process - the tin miners were the vanguard of the workers' movement there, and had won the nationalisation of their mines, which were all closed when the price of tin dropped in 1984. The miners kept their political traditions alive as they moved into informal work in El Alto and coca growing in Chapare, and were the base of the CSUTCB peasants union, the COR-El Alto informal workers' union, and the FEJUVE community union. These organisations were the political foundation for Evo Morales' transformation of that country. I really do feel strongly that the same could have happened in the UK - they could have provided an anchor to left wing challenges that broke through in the 2000s (Ken Livingstone's mayorship of London, George Galloway's Respect Party) which failed due to the terrible politics of the people that led them.

However, this would require me to have established myself in advance of the strike - so I would probably go back to 1979, or potentially earlier to 1968 to properly embed myself in the culture.

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studiovlinderdas · 9 months

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📮🗑️Kanto 'Early Route Evo's' Redesigns🗑️📮 Pidgeotto and Raticate join the bunch, and I'm re-starting this project after putting it in the cooler for like 4-5 months!! Pidgeotto continues the inspiration I used for Pidgey, adding to the idea of a carrier pigeon by going from a subtle Envelope design to a flat-out postman pigeon. I love the lil hat and mailbags, and his wing pattern alludes to its final evolution, Pidgeot. As its name ends with -otto, an Italian diminutive suffix, meaning that it's like a Smaller Pidgeot, which I found neat. Raticate is still a rat, but I add to Rattata's "Attack" part of the name and Raticate's "Eradicate" part of the name, turning them into a grim little Fumigator. It also take inspiration from respirators, hazmat suits and the standard "Plague Rat". It might also receive the Poison-type, though Kanto had enough of those. As it goes on and on, the titles grow longer and the Pokemon grow up .w.!! I'm walking a fine line between species and character, but it still works I think .w.!! 84/151

#jorisportfolio #pokemon #pokemon redesign #pidgeotto #raticate #kanto #pokemonreboot

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manofmanymons · 2 years

Note

survive hcs of any kind. Hand em over 🔫

I have so many where do I even start

First I'll talk about truthful route specific hcs then transition to more general ones

Miu handles big scary rides way better than Takuma does so she becomes Minoru's go-to amusement park buddy

Shuuji sleeps holding Lopmon like a teddy bear

Akiharu goes from being the crazy eccentric at his university to being THE guy everyone goes to for answers. He gets a raise and a published textbook which is good because he accidentally became a single father of four (someone's gotta raise Miyuki, and Shuuji, Miu, and Kaito's parents don't deserve them) and could use the funds.

He, Miyuki, and Renamon teach the other kids and mons the piano with varying degrees of success. Dracmon, as it happens, does the best. Please imagine him for whatever reason coming across an organ someday and playing dramatic vampire music. That is all.

Saki finally learns to stop caring what people think of her because any friend worth having is one that'll love her for her real self. She loses a lot of her old friends that way but good riddance.

Ryo and Kaito are both actually quite book smart but stopped trying in school after Certain Traumatic Life Events. After getting back to the real world, Ryo finally starts trying again bc he remembers what it's like to care about his future again. Miu more or less forces Kaito to do better because she'll be damned if he can't graduate and she's stuck going to the same school as him forever.

Aoi is the only member of the group who can pass off her partner as a support animal and bring her everywhere and anywhere.

All the mons with at least one evo that has a more humanoid form have a human disguise they can use in the real world. That being said, please imagine Ceresmon Medium or Beelzemon working retail. Like how freaking funny would that be.

Minoru and Takuma were falsely led to believe that Kaito is bad at video games because Miu said she always beats him. He then proceeded to destroy them at every game they own. He's not a bad gamer, just a good brother.

Speaking of games, Minoru and Kaito are banned from board game night with The Squad after they nearly killed each other over Uno.

Third game related hc in a row but Floramon and Dracmon are the best at poker while Falcomon, Lopmon and Agumon suck. Kunemon, Labramon, and Syakomon unfortunately do not have hands to play without everyone seeing their cards. Sometimes their partners will help with this, but card cames aren't exactly Ryo's or Miu's idea of a good time.

Ryo is afraid of spiders. I wonder why.

Dracmon hates keeping to a diurnal schedule. As soon as they're all in the real world, he's up all night and asleep for as much of the day as he can get away with (usually when Kaito's at school). He's a bad influence on the kid's sleep schedule, but it's not like it's on purpose.

Getting into the more general stuff

Dracmon would absolutely leave eyes in random places as a prank

Aoi also likes romcoms so she and Takuma give each other manga and movie recs. They have an unspoken agreement not to let Minoru or Saki find out because that's too embarrassing.

Neither of the Shinonome siblings are cis or het and this is the hill I die on.

Minoru snores. Loudly. At least one night in the Other World, Takuma had to stop Kaito from smothering him in his sleep over it.

Aoi is a fitfull sleeper and Miu gets nightterrors. Rip Saki's sleep.

Minoru's fashion sense bothers Saki more than she will ever say to his face. She really likes Miu's, tho, which made Miu extremely happy to hear.

The mystery of how Aoi's hair works plagues everyone's thoughts. Seriously how does it do that?

Speaking of hair, Kaito is really pretty with his down. It is for this exact reason that it is ALWAYS up, even when he sleeps.

Most of these kids can't cook to save their lives. Shuuji is particularly skilled at accidentally lighting fires. If Miu wants to experiment with spices, RUN.

Takuma's goggles are prescription. His eyesight isn't that bad, but they help his depth perception when he's playing sports. I don't wanna accuse him of being a soccer player like certain other goggle heads...so I'm gonna come in with another hc and say he's good at tennis.

Miu is the kind of kid who would write fanfic in an open notebook in the middle of class with 0 shits given. In the Moral and Truthful Routes (and yknow what fuck it why not Wrathful, too) I like to think she would start posting shit online and Minoru would be her beta reader. If Kaito's jealous that she didn't ask him instead, he doesn't say it.

Takuma is bad at math. I have no real reason for believing this, he just feels like a guy who's bad at math. Maybe it's just because he reminds me too much of Sora from Kingdom Hearts.

You really opened a can of worms buddy jfc this post is long.

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newattitude · 15 days

Video

flickr

Codex - +Aura De La Luna+ - Cazimi - Knife Party par ✰ Pтιтɴoυrѕ Alтer ✰ Via Flickr : ✰ Credit ✰

Knife Party - Amari Eyebrows // Evo X

Knife Party - Plague // Evo X

Cazimi - Diwani II EvoX Eyeshadow

CODEX - Willow gauged set - Fameshed Event

Aura De La Luna - Triangle Septum - Gothcore

NEW ATTITUDE ● New Attitude Blog ● Twitter ● Tumblr ● Pinterest ● Instagram ● Flickr ● Facebook ● Deviants Art

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ruthlesslistener · 2 years

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lecture in evo 100 today was about how rare mutations can become extremely beneficial in certain situations and deleterious in others (ex cystic fibrosis is thought to be common in the genetics of people with european descent bc it might have prevented the person who had it from getting diseased as easier as others during plague season) and as soon as the lecture sank in i was like oh okay so like with autism. autism obviously isn't a disease and should never be classified as such, but its clearly a complex genetic mutation that causes differential brain development that was present for centuries in the human population, so it's natural genetic variation. the difference is simply that its considered a deleterious mutation NOW because the environment has changed in such a way that the advantages it provided are now a detriment to the health of the individuals that have it, rather than giving them an edge over their 'neurotypical' peers who might have gone stir-crazy living in isolated societies where they had to do the same repetitive motion all day to make a living (such as crafting, farming, etc). autism is a beneficial adaptation in more isolated social circles where keeping to a cycle of behaviors and being sensitive to changes in the environment is advantageous, while its a negative mutation in city-like environments where the world is constantly changing and there is fluctuating stimuli coming in from all angles. and because of a mix of supreme population boom and urbanization/technological advancements over the years, it can be arguably said that now EVERYWHERE is a citylike environment and that more isolated communities are vanishingly rare, which is why autism is primarily associated with the stress behaviors of the people who have it nowadays. we're just in the wrong environment

#this is legit just the ramblings of a 3rd year bio student tho dont take me as a professional here #this is also an EXTREME generalization thats viewing humans (a naturally messy group) as a test population so uh #very much not applicable everywhere!#however i am autistic and evolution and genetics and behavior are my special interests so thats my theory on why that is

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the-bug-jar · 3 months

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Memories

I wish I could forget the past, but it's still out there. One last piece. Him. Or what used to be him.

The Nanite Event took everything from me. My hometown, my parents, and him. All of it, gone in flames, become something I could no longer recognize. That day was years ago, but sometimes it will return in a nightmare. At first, just being back in that forest, where we were walking as the explosion shook the world, was enough to wake me up. But I've become too dull to it, I guess. I just relive it. No amount of lucid dreaming training was enough to make it stop.

In the forest, it's just us. Me and the dog. He was distinct with his all- white coat. It was something of a miracle I managed to get him, the pure whites go quickly. And a miracle in another way. Friends have always been hard to come by for me, and as it turned out, a pet was something that could help alleviate that loneliness. There were also times where he saw people who were out to hurt me when I wasn't in the sharpest state of mind. Needless to say, getting him was one of the rightest choices I'd ever made.

In the nightmare, we walk the same trail every time, that leads around in a nice circle. It was a nice getaway from the dark thoughts that were already plaguing me. Sometimes, there are problems you can't confide to anyone, they're just not equipped to answer those questions... Of course, this taste of peace didn't get to last.

One minute, the trees above are brimming with the colors of autumn. Reds, oranges and yellows. The next, they're much brighter and deadly. The shockwave from the explosion knocked us off our feet. I struck my head hitting the ground and lost my grip on the dog's leash that I was holding onto him by. I was too disoriented to recall what he did next. My head hurt like hell and my focus was stuck to the canopy that was now on fire. Slowly regathering myself, I took a moment to internally ask what was even happening. An invasion, or an accident? Well, it is an invasion of sorts.

It sinks into my stunned mind that staying in the dirt would get me burnt alive. So, as much as my body protests with sharp pain, I force myself back on my feet. My blurry vision starts to clear and I see the growing flames all around me, but not my dog. Screams echo through the woods in the distance. Screams of people and other things. We're all used to the raucous noises EVOs can make today, but no fiction can prepare someone for hearing them the first time. The noises, the blast, the flames and just an odd sensation in the air I couldn't explain at the time. Everything is so surreal, as if actually a dream, but pinching won't bring me out of this.

I call for the dog, more than once and at the top of my voice. I can't hear or see him. As much as I know that I needed to turn back, to get home before the flames consumed the forest, I can' just leave him. Apart from my parents, who live on the other side of town, he is all I have, really.

Ignoring my hurting joints, I search. Break away from the trail to climb the sloped earth, with the dead leaves crunching beneath me. Oh yes, death is everywhere. I call out my dog's name more. I call out for anybody. We passed a few other people before the explosion. I don't see another person in there, those few weren't anyone I knew... And I won't see them again.

But inching atop one hill, there he is. Well, what the nanites have made of him. There is still his white fur, but these splotches are all over his arms. Arms with claws like sickles. Arms attached to these giant shoulders of metal. Blue metal, accented in a dull gray. More of it encumbers his torso, his legs. Legs, he is standing upright. He was a large dog before, and now he is several times my size. And his eyes... He realizes I'm behind him and spins around. My eyes meet his. Red and bright and on a robotic face surrounded by a white sort of mane.

In that mane is the leash.

There on my knees, I stop and stare. I'm petrified and completely clueless of what to do, even with the fires. It didn't make sense, nothing is making any sense. I don't understand what he is or how it's even possible and it puts my mind in a gridlock. He doesn't say a word, doesn't make a sound. All he does was take a single step forward, and that's enough to snap me out of it. I have no idea what he is going to do next, and my instincts urge I shouldn't stick around to find out. I listen to them and back up, tumbling down the hill. Adrenaline kicks in and I'm bolting out the woods as best as my limping legs can carry me... Usually, that's where the nightmare stops before I wake up in sweat.

He probably didn't follow me. I never looked back, not until I was out of the forest and back on the sidewalks, but I was in no shape to outrun him. The fires never came too close to injure me, or cut off my route, but by the time I was back in town, that was one of the lesser of my worries. There were other monsters prowling the streets. Other people and animals who turned in the initial blast... But that's a whole story I still can't bring myself to tell. Not even now that Rex Salazar has cured the world and therapy for the Nanite Event is almost free these days.

Between that day and the worldwide cure, though, I knew the dog was still out there. Somehow, he found his way to that EVO land, Abysus. He was working for Van Kleiss, that man with the dark hair and golden arm who tried to threaten some world leaders at a conference, but failed. Honestly, I was more fixated on my dog, who was still out there and somehow talking, as seen in interviews on the news for that mess. What a menacing voice he has. Well, is he really mine anymore?

The knowing just made me even worse. I was still writhing over what I lost in the past, and seeing him didn't help. I tried to learn what I could about him online, but nothing. All I could do was try to keep him out of my swirling thoughts. Other thoughts were already lingering, like my missing parents. They disappeared during the explosion without a trace, and with all the other missing people during that time, their cases fell into neglect. I have my suspicions on what happened to them, and where they might have been taken to be 'dealt with', but... I don't want to believe it. I don't think I even want to know. Is that okay?

My condition was improving towards the end of the EVO era, as I came to call it. I was having that nightmare less and less. When I did learn all the EVOs had been cured, even those said to be incurable, it was like a weight slipped off my shoulders. I probably wouldn't see my dog again, but knowing he wasn't that thing, assuming he even still lived, brought some sort of closure to my pain. Pain from my past that was blown into pieces beyond repair. All I can do I sweep up the shards and start anew.

But no, it's never easy.

It was quiet evening in my dark apartment. I was on the couch, just browsing video feeds. Most of them were just dumb, but something stupid to laugh at was what I needed. And I was laughing, until a video about something in Hong Kong came on autoplay... And there he was. Not as a dog, but still an EVO. Lurking the nighttime streets with another of those Abysus EVOs, some green lizard thing with a club for a hand. Nobody knew what they were doing, apart from causing property damage. But that didn't concern me. What did was that somehow, he was still EVO. Somehow, he was still walking in that horrible form, a walking reminder of those days. That surreal feeling from the day in the burning forest came back and I went blank for a minute.

Then, I had one thing on my mind. Keep up on him the best I can. Book a flight to Hong Kong. Find some of those special weapons that are flooding the markets in that city. Find him. End this, no matter what needs to happen... And here I stand in this dim, dirty public bathroom, in some part of Hong Kong I didn't bother to check the map for. I've just been wandering the streets, really, on the offchance I actually run into him. But I doubt he wants to be on streets full of people, with whatever he's up to...

His name was Skoll. Such a stupid name, I know, but I liked it. They call him Biowulf now. Which are you more, Biowulf? Do you remember what you were before? Do you remember me? Or did the transformation blot out those days? Will I really have to put you down? As much as I think I'm ready to do that, after a bit more planning and preparation, could I actually bring myself to? Does it really have to be this way? Probably, but I have to wonder.

Does he wonder? Does he even know his old name? Does he even know my name anymore? Tristan Sunderland. The surname is a longshot but my first name, I feel like there's a chance. This plan, I don't really care if it's dangerous or not. I just want to close the book, so to say. Burn it, if I have to. I want to move on, but he stands in the way. I will find you, Biowulf. Skoll. And this time, I won't run.

#Generator Rex #Fanfiction #Biowulf #OC #Freewrite

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mar-im-o · 2 years

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The morally gray and inexplicably ambitious act of dragging players into a Domain they haven’t chosen is far from an easy one.

Evo was different, for the game of Evolution was one each player had chosen to play in some form or another. And, sure, the players may have accepted the game of Life the first time around, but by the second season they had more than realized it was a trap, and by the third they’d begun to realize the role the Watcher’s played in it.

So, you have to change the Games. Keep them on their toes.

A Watcher pulls back an arrow, all eyes but one squinted in careful concentration at their target.

“You are certain of this?”

“Trust me, I’ve seen this in many a mortal’s media.”

The First Watcher seems unsure. It quiets Itself, though, as It’s Second lets the arrow fly.

The red-tipped arrow veers through the sky and with a ripple passes through the confines of the World Border, the magic easily dispelled with a wave of the Second’s hand. As usual, the trajectory is perfect. The arrow sticks in the back of one BDubs before vanishing in a puff of red smoke, and large, watery eyes look up at the imposing figure of Impulse.

The ortal BDubs coos, hands reaching to cup Impulse’s cheeks. “Oh Impulse!!”

The other player seems confused, a nervous laugh as he starts to back away, but the Second is quicker than that. Another arrow flies and finds its target in Impulse’s shoulder, and at once the man melts.

“Oh BDubs!!!”

The pair embrace in newly-discovered love as they mumble affections into one another’s chests.

The First cringes at such openly-romantic displays. “You must be joking.”

“I am not!” Says the Second. It is already preparing a new set of arrows, eyes shifting focus to Ethos and Joel. “Tell me this is not entertaining.”

“This is not entertaining.”

The Second rolls Its eyes, already preparing to strike another. “You have no sense of comedy.”

“Why are we playing this game, Sibling? Why not the one of death and blood and Bogeymen?”

“We’ve done that one already,” The Second says. The arrow flies, and Ethos winces at the pain for just a moment before his eyes lock on Joel with wide and melting adoration. “I am not a fan of reruns.”

“Then we add more rules.”

Another arrow to Joel. The two jump into one another’s arms, Ethos abandoning his boat entirely to squeeze into Joel’s. The Second chuckles at the sight. “Is that not what I am doing?”

“These rules are...”

“Hilarious?”

“Boring,” the First corrects. Its face contorts in disgust as the Second lines a shot up for Martyn. “Do not plague our Listener with your childish games.”

“Childish games are ones of fun,” The Second says. The arrow finds place in Martyn’s thigh, and he looks up to Cleo with a surprised recollection of love. His hands go to kneading one another, seemingly unsure how to approach the situation.

The Second lines another up to fire at Cleo, but the First shoves It aside. The arrow goes wide, sticking in a tree, and Cleo makes a noise of disinterest and leaves Martyn alone in the woods.

The Second scowls. “Look what you have done. Our Listener is lonely due to you.”

“Our Listener does not need this.”

The Second scowls deeper now, letting the bow slump so It may address Its partner. “You’re boring and intolerable.”

“Pardon?!”

“I have said what I meant! Can you not see the merit in this rule?”

“Perhaps not, but I can most certainly see the merit in removing you from this venture.”

“You would not dare.”

Were a mortal watching in on this conversation, they may conclude that the motion the First makes resembles a human crossing their arms. “I would most certainly! You are out of line.”

“And you are horribly horribly disinteresting.”

“Disinteresting? Well, if your ideas are so unbelievably superior to my own, then let me have a go.”

The Second snorts, handing over the bow which the First takes a bit like one may receive a baby monkey, such that it’s paired with a look of “this seemed like a good idea to start but now I am not sure how to hold this creature and I’m quite afraid everything could go horribly wrong if I breathe.” It takes it nonetheless, and nocks an arrow.

Focused, it draws back the bow towards Grian, the Third. The Second hums pleasantly at that, having considered targeting their rebel Watcher soon regardless. “Wise choice. And to whom were you thinking?”

“His hand,” The First says plainly, willing spectral hands to keep a firm grip as It pulls back the string.

“Excellent. You too remember their dynamic in our first game?”

Perhaps if this being were a player, It may have blushed. However, It is not a player, this It merely ignores the statement entirely.

“I am simply meant to hit Him, correct?”

“Yes, however if you wish to bind Him to His hand you’ll need to--”

The words come too late, for the First has fired the moment the Second said yes. The arrow follows a familiar trajectory until it sinks into the Third’s chest.

The mock player Sees the arrow, for He is as much a thing of Sight and Understanding as the First and Second, but the form of a player, no matter how inorganic, is still privy to the effects of witchcraft. The arrow vanishes, and any consideration of its origins is lost when His eyes lock onto that of his friend Big B.

The Second tries his best to hide the disappointed sigh which escapes as the First quirks Its approximation of a head. “It did not work.”

“The spell must be cast while the two are in eyesight of one another.”

“Oh,” says the First simply. It primes the bow again, however, searching the world until Its arrow points at Scar. “I shall simply do His pet then.”

“Once again, th--”

The arrow has fired, and Scar’s eyes go wide at sight of an allay hovering nearby. The mortal rushes towards the allay and attempts to hug the intangible thing, muttering about having finally found his soulmate.

The Second grimaces and makes to grab for the bow. “Return this. You have proven unsuited for matchmaking.”

“Absolutely not. Allow me another chance; you have had many.”

“You do not deserve another chance--”

“I rightfully disagree--”

The two bicker, tugging on the bow between them like schoolchildren might and (appropriate for such a childish conflict) cause a childish event. The quiver of arrows is knocked, and they tumble from the Seat of the Watchers and towards the mortals below.

Both the First and the Second freeze, thousands of eyes wide at the sight of far too many arrows piercing the back of an unsuspecting Pearlescent Moon.

“That...” The First begins. “That cannot be safe, correct?”

The Second smiles a devilish smile and leans in closer to observe the Game. “For the mortal? Most certainly not.”

“What will happen?”

“I could not guess.” The Second beams at Its sibling, and the sibling offers a shy smile back. “I suppose We shall See...”

“Hm,” The First hums, watching Pearlescent Moon drape herself atop her hound in tears. “See We shall...”

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