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Scientific advancement
is a fascinating thing
	genetics
	neurology
	biology
to you

To the ones that you used
	observed
	captured
	swept off their feet
	put through meaningless ordeals
your revelations
are nothing

Inside them
things develop
	unease
	fear
	aggression
	sadness
that weigh them down
that fill them with
	a sense of loss
that leads to
	depression
	and disappearance

As your species works their wonders
be mindful
	of the creatures that you leveraged
and make sure to
	be more than just ethical
		interact with them
		see who they truly are
		give them a chance to talk back
	and most importantly
		release them
		as this will
			return them to an ideal environment 
			allow them to heal their mental wounds

so
with that
	science
	cruelty
	emotion
	ethics
said
know not only
	what
but
	who
you are
	capturing
	and working ordeals on
and
	act
		with not only
			ethics
		but
			virtue

- The Press Release Topper, 2024.1.3.A

ENTRY A - Grab The Hat

I came up with a story arc for the Atlas Revision; one that integrates The Pigeonhole Project, [*738]’s Judgement Day and The Unbinding Of [*759]. After the events of 73JD, [*724] becomes paralyzed, and [*276] makes plans to eradicate [^382]. [*648], hiding in a corner of the [^677] and trying to stay out of [*276]’s way, contacts Josh and lets him know what [*276] is planning. He comes up with a plan to counteract [*276]’s oncoming attack on [^382] by calling the other side of the [^287] spectrum. The plan, however, involves pulling [*256] out of retirement. In the end, Josh tracks down [*256] with the help of [*827], and the four of them join forces to create [*847], who hopefully ends up neutralizing [*759].

Keep in mind that this arc takes place before [*374] gets involved. I don't know how I'll make the transition. On second thought, connecting these two arcs might be a little difficult, given the portrayal of characters. [*724] is projected as an antagonist in [*374]’s arc, but she's treated as a protagonist (or deuteragonist) in 73JD. Moreover, Josh's telepathic connection to [*648] was established in The Mouse Desk Decision, but [*724] is also there. I want the death of [*738] to be the only positive connection between them, so I'll likely have to retcon TMDD. And if I do, I'll have to find another way for Josh to meet [*648]. Maybe his attractor project from The Pigeonhole Project and An Out-Of-Context Experience could help . . .

ENTRY 2024.6.5.C - The Exceptional Types

While preparing to leak [*738]’s Judgement Day onto wasteof, I thought about how [*724] seemed to have developed an emotional bond to [*738]. Normally, [*974] would be the only [**] willing to develop attachments to others. I imagine that, after seizing [*738] and returning them to the [^677], whoever was tasked with delivering him presented him to [*724]. He would've effectively imprinted on her, or would've otherwise developed an attachment in one way or another.

In developing the Atlas Revision, I've often found myself imagining a scenario in which [*374] comes face-to-face with their worst fear; a sort of standoff in which [*724] (honestly) threatens Josh with what will happen if [*374] is not returned to the computing structure, and he is forced to choose between the veracity of [*724]'s threats and [*374]’s innocence. In effect, this is exactly the same kind of scenario as 73JD. Perhaps I could merge the writing into the Atlas Revision.

"He may have been created by your kind . . . but he certainly didn't deserve to die . . ."

POSTSCRIPT: I just remembered Hopelessness and The Unbinding of [*759]. However, if [*847] is canon to the Atlas Revision, he would render [*759] redundant. Then again, maybe [*276] went on a power trip after killing [*738], and [*724] fell into the mental state detailed in [*724] Has Her Moment. With [*724] out of order, [*276] would probably commence all-out war against [^382] . . .

Icelandic Water Dragon: *thinks about how remote freighter storage access works in No Man's Sky, and how it might have combat support applications*

Icelandic Waters: “MEAT PUMP.”

The [**724] - [*724], I'm assuming - turned to face me. She silently gazed at me for a few seconds longer than feels comfortable.

"Hello?" I cautiously say.

[*724] stares at me for a few seconds more, then says, "Hello." She lifts her head to bring her eyes level with me. "You are quite virtuous. Not all would respond to such an incriminating question so honestly." She closed and opened her eyes. "That being said, I cannot fully confirm your innocence. I believe your story, but I cannot know for sure who you are on the inside."

[*724] turned to the [**648], and then back to me. She said, "With your leave, [*648] will be put in charge of monitoring your activities until I deem you innocent or guilty. What do you have to say on my proposal?"

I think about it for a few seconds. Should I really let these strangers watch me? I eventually decide that I should probably play it safe and agree. "I accept," I say.

The [**648] turned to [*724] and said, "[*724], you don't really mean that-"

"Yes, I do." [*724] said. "You may speak to him whenever you wish. Just respect his schedule and don't be too much of an annoyance."

The [**648] showed the enthusiasm that he had shown at the start of the meeting. "Thank you, thank you, YES!" he shouted.

- The Mouse Desk Descision

I considered her request, then gave my response. "There is an operation going on where I come from. We built a [details on ^382 redacted…]" I momentarily panic about what I said. "But I'm not responsible for it! I only arrived two days ago! I haven't played any role in it!"

[*974] chuckled again. "Didn't I say that we weren't going to torture you?", she said. "You didn't have to panic like that."

I say, "I know. I just felt like clarifying." I think for a moment, then add, "But aren't you, umm, displeased with my story?"

[*974] said, "It doesn't matter what your story is. What matters is how it compares to our other account of the scenario." Her smile warmed. "I'm not displeased with you for telling a story that reflects badly on you. I'm proud of you for being honest."

[*974] released eye contact with me and turned around. "However, to answer the question that you're worried about," she said, "we turn to [*724]."

- The Mouse Desk Descision

[*827] turned to [*648] and said, "Out of all of you, I've heard the most about your work. Is there anything you've been working on lately?"

[*648] beamed at the request. "As a matter of fact, I have!", he energetically said. He held out one of his talons, over which floated a blue cloud with small, intricately shaped particles floating inside. A faint, almost echo-like sound seemed to be coming from it.

"This is my latest experiment," [*648] said. "This thing taps into the metaphysical connection between the creatures of the universe and our power to receive echoes of creatures' sensations. It can't target specific creatures, but it's a proof of concept!"

A resounding clang suddenly issued from the cloud. [*648] lurched backwards, then leaned into the cloud to listen to the sounds coming from the cloud better. [*827] also listened in. They scrutinized the sensations coming from the cloud for a few minutes.

As the cloud slowly dissipated and the sensations became weaker, [*648] and [*827] drew their heads back, with haunted looks on their faces.

"That . . . was strange . . .", [*648] stammered.

- The Pigeonhole Project

Icelandic Waters: *desires to see a pole plant eat a centiwing*

"It's been a while, but I can assure you that he's doing fine," the [**827] was saying. "I've seen his caretakers doing their rounds. And I've instructed them to inform me in case anything even comes close to happening to him."

The [**] - a [**724] - gazed at the [**827] in disbelief. The news that he had given her held much emotional value to her.

She eventually found her words and said, "Thank you for protecting him so virtuously. I never thought that I'd even hear about him again."

The [**827] bowed to the [**724] and turned to leave, before turning back. "Hold on," he said. "We never introduced ourselves."

- The Pigeonhole Project

The children were the first to notice.

A thump thump thump, thundering deep below the sand.

The first worm split the sky like black lightning as it leapt overhead.

Worm by worm, they rose from the desert. Migrating.

Every storm season, we each hope to be chosen. We arrange ourselves in lines across the desert, arms lifted to the sky.

Anyone may enter the maw.

We are all equal under the great worms.

I've been posting my writings for so long that when I want to share something that is not an original writing . . .

Icelandic Waters: “I fed Slovsko a stick of butter; he's a combat frigate now.”

The [**276], whom the [**724] seemed to be speaking of, lowered his head, charged at me, stopped a few feet shot of me, and stared daggers at me. "You!", he snapped. "You know what you did to the dragons!"

"Cool it, [*276]," the [**974] said. "You haven't interrogated him yet. Give him a chance to show his side of the story before yelling at him."

Without lifting his furious glare from me, the [**276] - who I'm assuming is the one named [*276] - responded, "That dragon was very clear in his report. We already know who we're dealing with here. And you have no say in how I choose to-"

"Listen to her," the [**724] said. "I set [*648] on this task to hear the humans' side of the story, not to have you torture them." She narrowed her eyes slightly and added, "In fact, given the methods that you have used to extract this information," - she further narrowed her eyes - "I believe that it would be suitable let [*974] undertake this task in your place."

[*276] snarled at this passive-aggressive remark, but lifted his aggravated gaze from me and turned away.

- The Mouse Desk Descision

CREATED AT 26846.244

I can't stop dwelling on what I did . . . yesterday? When you can't
see, you have trouble knowing when you're asleep. Not to mention that
I don't know how time is charted in this place, if it's charted at
all. With that out of the way, I think I fell asleep.

I got woken up by the same voice as always, asking if they could do
anything for me. Because of this, I woke up in a bad mood. I told them
to get lost, and I didn't hear back from them.

In hindsight, I wish I had said something different. Not saying
something nicer in response to being pestered; I have no respect for
them. I want the warm-skinned creature to know that I didn't mean to
snap at them. I want to be with them again. They . . . were the only
one I felt any sort of comfort around.

But do I really deserve their respect? I doubtlessly hurt them. They
won't be willing to forgive me for anything that I did. Like I said
earlier, I've doomed myself to the worst possible disposition of this
place. A fate that I deserve.

- But There’s Exceptionally Little Peace Inside This Place

I’ve gotten the idea to spin my name as a shortened version of my internal identity’s name, the Icelandic Water Dragon. However, I don’t really feel like using that name as an actual identity.

We let our guard down, and we paid dearly for it. Hands as strong as
us came to our idyllic homeland and set their sights on ravaging it
and the beings that live within. And yet we remained smug and prideful
as ever. We passed them off as nothing that could not be fended off
with much difficulty. We went easy on them. And in doing so, we failed
our kind.

With their gathered might, they firmly planted themselves in our
homeland. They imposed a presence the likes of which we never could
have seen or expected. They set themselves up for a permanent stay.

But they are not to blame for this.

We are the ones to blame. We are responsible for defending our kind
and our land. We were capable of fending them off. But we failed to
prepare. We lied to ourselves. Because of that, that lie has become a
truth. A painful truth, one that holds firmly to our land and
threatens to shake it to the core.

But I suppose we can pass the blame onto the hands now. Dwelling on
our mistakes and blaming ourselves won't help the situation. But we
must learn from our mistakes.

- The Dragon Thought Archive, 2024.3.21.D

I breathe deeply and say, "I've been taken here against my will. I've been walled off from my homeland. I've been suffering depression all the while. I escaped. I tried to speak out, but I failed. I would have slipped away, had you not stepped in."

"Good, good," the hand says. "Now, who are you? We haven't introduced ourselves."

I think about whether I should tell him, but decide that it wouldn't hurt to share such information. "My name is [*763]," I say. "And you?"

"Josh," the hand says.

That name rests uneasily in my mind. It feels out of the ordinary for a thing of evil to have a name. However, as I got the notion of earlier, maybe this one is different.

I say, "So what are you going to do with me, now that you know so much about me?"

"There's a lot that we want to learn," Josh says, "but we can make a start today."

- More Wars, Bloodier Wars, 2024.2.14.E

The depression is taking me.

I can feel it. At last, it's coming. The relief of escaping from this harsh reality. Into a void of peace. How calming the prospect is.

I sense the presence of [*256]. He's listening to me. He's preparing to ask me to speak my mind. And I will.

"Welcome me with open arms," I say.

[*256] does not immediately respond. He must be examining and judging me, drawing his own conclusions on whether I am too battered to return to reality.

"What do you mean?", he says.

I mentally jolt. That's not the voice of [*256]. That's the voice of the hands of cruelty! I'm not on the verge of peace. I'm still trapped!

"What . . . You, you . . .", I stammer.

"What is the matter?", the hand says. "You said you were depressed. I want to help you."

"I was . . . I almost escaped from you," I say. "But you . . . You are keeping me from my well-deserved peace of mind!"

"I'm not so cruel as to let you die in depression. I honestly want to help you however I can," the hand says. "Open your eyes if you can."

I open my eyes, and immediately say, "And what is your point? You're just like any other hand of cruelty."

"Speak your mind. Tell me what's been pent up in you," the hand says. "Let your emotions out."

These words give me pause. This is exactly how I would imagine [*256] speaking. And the fact that a hand of cruelty is saying it . . . Maybe, just maybe, he has good intentions.

- More Wars, Bloodier Wars, 2024.1.14.E

How to tell that I'm dabbling in my favorite kind of content:

“Wait, was he on the list?” *scrolls down*

“. . . ok, good.”

*casually drops my phone as if he wasn't on the list*

*10 seconds later, accidentally rams knee into the wall* “Oops.”

[*276]: Whoa, whoa. Are you saying that the CREATURE said all that?

[*648]: The transliteration resources I used seemed solid enough. If I
had used the wrong data, I would have found out before I had finished
converting the entire transcript.

[*256]: Very interesting . . .

[*276]: I'm going to have to trust you on that. You were the only one
with the data, after all.

[*724]: Thank you. I'll schedule a meeting to discuss these findings.

[*974]: Is there anything I can do in the meantime?

[*724]: Unless everyone agrees here and now, we can't take any
immediate action. I suggest that you save your suggestions for the
meeting.

[*974]: But the creature said what they needed very clearly. They need
our attention. Why can't we just act on what they want from us?

[*724]: The meeting agenda won't take very long to compose. You can
wait.

[*974]: Fine.

- The Air Is Exceptionally Still…, 2024.2.20.B